The Krytos Trap (23 page)

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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Star Wars, #X Wing, #Rogue Squadron series, #6.5-13 ABY

BOOK: The Krytos Trap
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Asyr appeared at his side. “What happened?”

Gavin shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

Herrit smiled. “Just a couple of boys getting some exercise.”

Asyr looked up at Gavin. “Exercise?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I gave that maturity you were talking about a workout. Felt pretty good, too.”

“If you want to leave, we can.”

Gavin shook his head. “No, stay and see your friends. Have fun. I don’t think there’s going to be any more excitement tonight.”

The fact that Borsk Fey’lya was nowhere to be seen heartened Admiral Ackbar greatly as he entered Mon Mothma’s living quarters. The presence of General Cracken confirmed that the reason he had been summoned was business, but that everything would be conducted informally. Whatever action needed to be referred to the Provisional Council would be in its own good time.

Had he thought Mon Mothma possessed a Bothan’s sense of subtlety, he would have assumed the way her apartments had been redecorated were designed to encourage a sense of well-being in him. Diaphanous blue and green drapes rippled gently in front of the windows—the movement being caused by the air conditioning, though it did suggest the windows behind the drapes were open. The carpeting had a rich aquamarine hue to it, and the tile pattern used to decorate the lower half of the wall had a nautical motif. The upper part of the wall matched the carpet in color, but the recessed oscillating lights in the ceiling gently picked up and sparkled from the rainbow pinpoints worked into the paint.

Even the furnishings were more to his liking than most. Painted in greens, browns, and blues, they had an organic and flowing shape to them. They lacked the pure symmetry that most humans seemed to prefer. The table in the center of the room, for example, could have been water that had been poured out on the ground, frozen, and then placed atop legs. The lack of sharp edges and jagged corners somehow drained tension from the room, and Ackbar felt himself relaxing.

Mon Mothma smiled in warm welcome. “I thank you for coming so quickly after I sent for you. I know the trial is your primary concern and is occupying much of your time.”

“The trial is indeed a concern of mine, but I consider it a cove, when my real concern is the ocean of security for the New Republic.” Ackbar opened his hands. “I must compliment you on the decor—I find it most pleasing. You grew up in one of Chandrila’s port cities, did you not?”

“Yes, my mother was the governor there. I learned to love the Silver Sea. I find that making my home over in the image of where I lived in better times is good for my sanity.”

“You have done a wonderful job.” Ackbar looked around the room again. “It is a pity to bring the discussion of difficult times into such a beautiful place.”

“There are always compromises that become necessary.” Mon Mothma waved Ackbar to a floating chair fashioned after a fan of blue seaweed. She seated herself in a similar chair, and General Cracken joined them by dragging over a green coral chair. “There are some things that have come up that could require Council activity, but I think it would be better to present them to the Council as
fait accompli
.”

Ackbar’s barbels twitched. “Insulating the Council from a backlash?”

“And preventing the chance for people to profit from what we are going to be doing, materially or politically.” Mon Mothma sighed heavily. “There are times I can see glimmers of what made the Emperor decide to dissolve the Senate. I reject that course of action, but I can certainly feel its allure. I especially hate it when action that is necessary is delayed so various individuals can set themselves up to reap the benefits of doing what they have no choice but to do. Not the way it was when we had to deal directly with the Empire.”

“I have ridden the crest of that wave myself, Mon Mothma. Being a rebellion was much more simple than being a government.” Ackbar settled back into his chair and folded his hands into his lap. “What is it you would have of me?”

Mon Mothma looked at General Cracken. “You might want to give the Admiral some of the background on this.”

Cracken nodded. “Though the pro-Palpatine terrorists
last struck ten days ago, that attack has had a chilling effect on our bacta distribution efforts. The Krytos virus is beginning to spread a bit more quickly than we projected when we got the bacta from Warlord Zsinj. People are balancing their fear of the disease against their fear of being at ground zero of a terrorist attack. Black market prices for bacta are beginning to climb again because, in effect, the PCF attack has made our bacta off-limits to a lot of people. The demand for bacta from other sources is thus increasing, and so are the prices.”

Ackbar gave Cracken a wall-eyed stare. “Vorru and his militia have not been able to crack down on the black marketeers?”

“Vorru claims his people are concentrating on keeping the PCF under wraps. They’re reacting to every rumor they get and, though we have not released this information to the public, they
have
uncovered a couple of bombs that our people think were created by the PCF. I do not for a minute think Vorru is playing everything entirely straight, but his people are maintaining order in a sector we had no chance of controlling.”

“And how does this concern me?”

Mon Mothma nodded. “General Cracken has been in charge of some ultra-secret researches into the Krytos virus. Details of them have been kept even from me, but their continuation requires a quantity of ryll.”

The Mon Calamari pressed his hands together. “And that will require an expedition to Ryloth.”

“Precisely. Aside from getting the ryll, I think this will be an excellent opportunity for us to open some diplomatic channels with the Twi’leks, even if it is only at a very low level.”

“And you will want Counselor Ven to go.”

“Yes.” Mon Mothma smiled. “All of Rogue Squadron, in fact. Commander Antilles made quite an impression there several years ago, and the contribution of Nawara Ven to the taking of Coruscant has attracted a lot of attention on Ryloth. This notoriety will add weight to our negotiating position.”

“So you need me to delay the trial
and
release Rogue Squadron to this duty.”

The leader of the New Republic narrowed her eyes. “Is there a problem with this? Surely you can find a reason to grant a continuance in the case.”

Ackbar’s mouth dropped open in a silent laugh. “Find
a
reason? I could find a school of them, Chief Councilor. I applaud General Cracken’s ability to uncover so much so quickly about Captain Celchu’s involvement with the Empire—the pace of discovery is remarkable. The trial is moving with such alacrity that there is no way the defense has adequate time to prepare. Counselor Ven is doing his best, but this is clearly the most difficult assignment he’s been given since joining Rogue Squadron.”

“So this is not a problem?”

“No, though I suppose the continuance cannot be granted on the grounds that Rogue Squadron is going off on a secret mission to Ryloth?” When silence met his question, Ackbar opened his mouth in a smile. “I was being facetious. It was a joke.”

Cracken laughed, but Mon Mothma just smiled. “Forgive me, my friend, but as General Cracken will attest, I have not heard many things that make me laugh of late.”

“I understand.” Ackbar sat forward. “I will, of course, clear Rogue Squadron for the mission. Will you be wanting Erisi Dlarit to fly that mission?”

“I should think so. Is there a reason we would not want her on it?”

Ackbar shrugged. “Since she is involved in pushing the Xucphra corporation to sell us a great deal of bacta, I would think putting her in jeopardy on a mission would be contra-indicative.”

Mon Mothma looked at her Intelligence director. “Is she in danger on this run, General?”

Cracken frowned. “We anticipate no trouble.”

Ackbar blinked his eyes. “And if the mission is betrayed to the PCF?”

“We have the Imperial spy, don’t we? Isn’t that why Captain Celchu is on trial?”

“Yes, Chief Councilor.” Cracken’s dark eyes sharpened. “What the Admiral is suggesting is that we cannot be certain Captain Celchu was the
only
spy in service to the Empire. The potential for betrayal does exist here
and
on the Ryloth side of things. While sending her out might endanger her, holding her back might be taken incorrectly by officials on Thyferra, dooming that deal.”

“But if she dies, that could also hurt us.” Mon Mothma shook her head. “The lack of clear-cut decisions is what makes this job so difficult. The Thyferrans seem to set great store by Erisi Dlarit’s flying with Rogue Squadron. I suppose we will have to let her go.”

Ackbar nodded. “I concur. That is the tide on which you should sail.”

“And you, General Cracken,” Mon Mothma said, “will have to make certain security around this mission is not breached. We cannot afford to have the mission disrupted, nor can we afford to lose Erisi Dlarit.”

“Of this, I am aware.” General Cracken nodded solemnly. “I understand the gravity of the situation. If there is a leak, we’ll find it—find it and eliminate it. The New Republic can afford for us to do nothing less.”

20

“I am fairly certain, Colonel Vorru, that I do not like this turn of events at all.” Kirtan Loor peered down at the smaller man but clearly did not have quite the intimidating effect on him that Loor wanted. “I invited you here to inform you of my plan as a
courtesy
, not to allow you to veto it.”

Fliry Vorru shrugged. “Ah, but I
have
vetoed it.”

No!
“No! I cannot allow this.” Loor’s hands balled into fists. “My agreement with you was to let you select domestic targets that help weaken the New Republic’s government. I have abided by your decisions in any case where the target was of that sort. This is not one of those cases.”

Loor stalked around his darkened office, flitting like a moth around the circle of light that anointed Fliry Vorru and made his white hair shine brilliantly. “The destruction of Rogue Squadron has been a priority with me since well before they took Imperial Center, and now,
now
they are within my grasp. I have a squadron of X-wings here on Imperial Center that I will use to attack Rogue Squadron’s base and destroy them on the ground. It will be perfect and will allow me to finish a mission that has taken far too long to complete.”

Vorru leaned back in Loor’s tall chair and put his booted
feet up on the surface of the desk, scattering a stack of datacards. “What were once your priorities do not matter to me. I deem this attack too risky. Cracken will suspect I leaked information about Rogue Squadron’s impending mission to you.”

“No, no he won’t.” Loor’s fingers itched to be punching data up on his datapad—
or to be strangling you, Vorru
. “I uncovered evidence of a run to Ryloth based on fluctuations in the secondary ryll-derivatives black market. I traced it back to a woman in the medical corps who’s been making extra money producing her own brand of patent medicine. It’s mostly lum, with ryll and a drop or two of bacta in it—useless, of course, but she’s begun to raise the price. It’s assumed that when Rogue Squadron brings the ryll back to Coruscant, its effectiveness against the virus will be touted and her medicine will be in high demand. I can give her to you and you can point her out as the leak.”

“Suggesting that a quack producing a folk remedy led you to Rogue Squadron is what will get me implicated.”

“Nonsense.” Loor slapped his hands against his hips in frustration. “You know as well as I do that Ryloth is as dark a den of
iniquity
as exists this side of Varl. The Twi’leks have not supported the Rebellion in any great numbers, so the most prominent Twi’lek in the New Republic is Nawara Ven. The Republic has to use him as their negotiator and, lo and behold, the prosecution asks for and gets a continuance of the case. That leaves plenty of time for Rogue Squadron to make the trip to Ryloth and back. The only obvious assumption is that they’re going to make the trip.”

Loor shook his head. “I’ve known
where
Rogue Squadron has been stationed for a while now. This is my opportunity to hit them right at a time when the failure of their mission will severely hurt the New Republic.”

“Your reasoning is flawless, Agent Loor, but that concerns me not at all.” Vorru’s dark eyes glittered. “I even find your devotion toward the elimination of Rogue Squadron admirable. However, your taking action against Rogue Squadron does not suit me at this time; therefore you cannot launch your assault.”

“And if I choose to ignore your
advice
?”

Vorru twisted his head slightly sideways. “Do you really want to test me, Kirtan Loor?”

Loor hesitated, losing his chance to snap back a defiant answer. Anyone else asking that question would have filled the words with impending doom, but Vorru asked it in an easy tone, as if asking a child if she were certain she wanted to do something that was obviously dangerous. His expression, his posture, bore no obvious menace, and yet Loor found himself more fearful of Vorru than he would be of a buzzadder coiled and ready to strike in his place.

“Testing you would get neither of us anywhere.”

“I always thought you were more than reasonable.” Vorru swung his feet off the desk and swiveled the chair around so he could stand. He withdrew a datacard from inside his militia tunic and tossed it on the desk. “You and your people have been good and have done nothing of import for nearly two weeks. I have found you a new target.”

Loor exchanged places with Vorru, spun the chair around, and dropped into it. He pulled himself around to face the desk and saw Vorru’s shadowed form standing opposite him. Loor shoved the datacard into his datapad, punched up a directory, then opened the file labeled “target.die.” The architectural renderings of a building showing stress points filled the small screen.

The Intelligence agent looked up. “It’s small. I don’t see bacta storage areas or barracks facilities. What is it?”

“A school.”

“School?” Loor frowned. “You mean a training academy?”

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