Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [80]
The Gamorrean pilot nodded. “I can dress up as a barbarian and simply be appropriate scenery.”
“Correct. Though Zsinj, as a product of the Imperial school of thought, may be unhappy with the presence of a nonhuman in the Hawk-bat party. We’ll have to think that one over. Dia, Shalla, Tyria, Lara, all of you are distinct possibilities. I’ll need a little time to work out the best mix for the greeting party.”
Shalla said, “But it sounds as though it’s a go.”
Wedge nodded. “It is. This is what we’re here for. Such a mission would have to be a volunteer operation, though, so anyone who does not wish to be included, send me a note. Dismissed, everybody.”
Wedge noticed that they filed out with their backs a little straighter, with more energy in their steps, than they’d had when they arrived for the conference. Yes, they’d probably lost friends down on Halmad … but they hadn’t lost their sense of purpose.
Castin Donn was the last in line to leave, but he shut the door before him and turned back to face Wedge. “Sir, I’d like to be part of this operation.”
“Castin, you yourself agreed that you were probably too well known in Imperial records.”
“That’s right, sir. But I want to go in unknown, undetected. I have an idea.”
Wedge gestured for him to sit. “Let’s hear it.”
Castin took a chair again. “I’m familiar with a wide variety of Imperial computer systems.”
“I know.”
“What if I put together a program that induced Iron Fist’s computer to broadcast an occasional signal saying, ‘Here I am, come and get me’?”
“One that Zsinj wouldn’t detect?”
“Correct, sir. This program would piggyback its message to outgoing signals so there would be no extraneous broadcasts for the ship’s crew to detect. Now, given a capital ship’s protocols for scans of its programs, for frequent memory flushes, and so forth, even with maximum stealth characteristics, a program like this couldn’t last too long. Maybe a month, maybe a week or two less or more. But in that time, we could build up a database of the ship’s movements.”
“Like Admiral Trigit tried to do to us with his Morrt Project.”
“Correct. We might even get a break. Find the Iron Fist staying in one place long enough for elements of the fleet to arrive and hit it.”
“What would you need?”
“Well, I already have the programming simulators here. I’d just need a full set of stormtrooper armor for disguise, and a datapad portable terminal with a standard ship’s computer interface. I’d go in Narra’s smuggling compartment—if it can hold Piggy in a pilot’s suit, it can hold me in stormtrooper armor.”
Wedge considered for a long moment. “Castin, I want you to work up this program.”
“Thank you, sir!” Castin saluted and started to rise.
“Wait, now. I’m not going to authorize your mission, not this time.”
“What?” Castin sank back into place, looking as angry as though he’d been slapped.
“Zsinj is no fool. We’re already flying in a crew of pirates he doesn’t know. They are going to be under constant scrutiny. This first encounter is not the time to try such a stunt. Later, when meetings become more routine and security gets lax, that’s when we try your plan.”
“Sir …” Castin’s jaw trembled as he visibly tried to bring himself under control. “Sir, I’m better than any security they can offer. I don’t tell you how to fly—you’re the best at that. Please don’t tell me what sort of security I can and can’t breach.”
“Now you’re being impertinent. Tell me the name of Zsinj’s chief security man.”
“I don’t know that, sir.”
“Then how do you know that you’re better than he is? That he doesn’t have measures in place against the sort of program you’re planning to introduce?”
“Because I’m better than everybody, sir.”
Wedge sighed. “Flight Officer Donn, I’m giving you a direct order. Design your code. But take your time and do a very clean job on it. Because you will not be accompanying this mission to Iron Fist.