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    Star Wars - X-Wing - The Bacta War

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      before Coruscant had fallen. Though he wished it otherwise, as his

      consciousness faded, Corran knew there was only one explanation for what he

      saw. I am dying because only the dead can see the dead. He knew that made little

      sense, but he was beyond caring as he realized the dead really have little use

      for logic as well.

      14

      Wedge shivered as he waited for the shuttle from the Twi'lek freighter dock at

      the Yag'Dhul station. His shiver had less to do with apprehension about the

      Twi'leks' arrival at the station than it did the temperature on the station.

      Lowering it by an average of five degrees was just one of the few changes

      Booster Terrik had made since he'd taken over.

      Wedge slowly shook his head. Booster had long been legendary for being

      tightfisted. He's left dermal ridge indentations on every credit that has

      passed through his hands. While Booster was more than generous with his friends,

      in business he was shrewd and capable of saving money in any situation where he

      found himself. By lowering the station temp, and by refusing to heat unoccupied

      portions of the station, he lowered its operating costs rather significantly.

      More important, by leaving the tapcafs and cantinas on the central levels warmer

      than any other place, he encouraged people to congregate there and patronize

      those establishments. Since the station's vendors were paying him a percentage

      of their profits and were funneling all their supply needs through Booster, the

      old man was making credits hand over fist.

      Credits that are going to get us the things we need. Booster had put the word

      out through his network of contacts that he'd taken over the station and deals

      were to be had and made there. Traffic to and from the station had begun to

      increase and while Booster told Wedge there were some suppliers he'd have to

      visit to make deals with, the vast majority of the items they needed would be

      delivered straight to them at Yag'Dhul.

      The Twi'lek shuttle, an octagonal tube that lacked all the elegance of the

      Imperial Lambda-class shuttle, looked as if it had been extruded from the

      freighter. It moved sluggishly onto the landing platform. It settled down onto a

      docking collar, which rose up to meet it and formed itself to the ship's hull.

      Lights on the exterior of the collar went from red to yellow and then green,

      signifying an atmospheric seal had been achieved.

      A lighted panel near the viewport through which Wedge was watching showed the

      progress of a personnel-mover heading out to the Twi'lek ship. Outside, slowly

      moving across the loading platform area, droid-driven grav-sleds approached the

      ship to begin to offload cargo. Wedge had no idea what Booster had asked the

      Twi'leks to bring, but he knew from his visits to Ryloth that an exchange of

      gifts was customary. He hoped the Twi'leks brought ryll so it could be shipped

      to the rylca production facility on Borleias and transformed into the medicine

      that was vital for curing the Krytos epidemic on Coruscant.

      The personnel-mover started its trip back to the station's hub. Wedge walked

      over to the doorway where it would arrive and positioned himself in front of

      it. He tugged at the sleeves and waist of his jumpsuit. He knew it might have

      been good form to wear the Twi'lek! warrior togs he'd worn on Ryloth, but they

      were designed as warm-weather clothes and Booster's habitat adjustments made it

      a bit too cool to wear them with comfort.

      The doorway opened to admit an obese Twi'lek wearing a robe made from a shiny

      gold fabric and held closed by a thick red sash. A coral ornament secured a gold

      cloak at his throat and the cloak's reflected light jaundiced his pink flesh,

      especially the flesh of his lekku, which he wore draped over his shoulders. He

      clasped his black-taloned hands before his belly and executed a short bow.

      Wedge returned it. "I am pleased to be able to greet you here, Koh'shak."

      "It is my pleasure to accept the invitation of Booster-ter'rik to visit you,

      Wedgan'tilles." The bulbous Twi'lek moved through the doorway. "You recall

      Tal'dira?"

      A second Twi'lek filled the doorway and had to bow his head to make it through.

      The black flightsuit he wore had been supplemented with a scarlet loincloth and

      cloak as well as a golden bandoleer running from right shoulder to left hip. The

      hugely muscled Twi'lek's lekku had been tattooed with a whole host of designs,

      the significance of which Wedge could only guess at. He wore a blaster on his

      right hip and Wedge knew from prior experience that the bandoleer concealed a

      pair of vibroblades.

      "It is an honor to see you again, Tal'dira."

      "And you, Wedgan'tilles." The Twi'lek warrior gave Wedge a smile full of sharp

      teeth. "Koh'shak will run off and find his trading partners, leaving warriors to

      speak among themselves."

      Wedge nodded in the fat merchant's direction and Koh'shak immediately headed off

      toward the lift-tubes to find Booster. While Wedge looked forward to spending

      time with Tal'dira and learning why the warrior had come to the station, he

      regretted not being able to sit in on the conversations Booster and Koh'shak

      would have together. They might not be warriors, but the battles they will wage

      to strike a bargain will be of epic proportions.

      Wedge waved a hand toward the threshold of the cantina on that level. "May I

      offer you the hospitality of the station?"

      The warrior nodded. "You honor me."

      "Say that after we get served. Our selections are rather limited here." Wedge

      led him into the darkened cantina and wove a serpentine path through small

      tables to an open booth in the back. The reserved hologram drifting above it

      proclaimed its glowing message in a multitude of scripts and stood almost as

      tall as a Jawa. Wedge held his hand over the

      holoprojector and let it do a quick scan of his palm. The message changed to one

      of welcome, then morphed into a bill of fare. Wedge sighed and slid into the

      booth. "Having a table held for me here is about the only benefit of command."

      "Warriors must take pleasure in even the slightest of benefits, because death

      is ever our companion." Tal'dira sat opposite Wedge, interlacing his fingers

      and placing his hands on the table. His lekku flopped over inside his elbows.

      "You deserve more than this for your great victory." Wedge raised an eyebrow.

      "Great victory?" The Twi'lek chuckled in a manner that seemed almost menacing.

      "You took from Iceheart a convoy of bacta." "It wasn't exactly defended very

      heavily." "It matters not. You did what no one would dare to do you struck at

      the Bacta Cartel. What you did is memorable and worthy of praise."

      "Thank you." Wedge glanced at the serving droid that approached the table.

      "Corellian whisky for me, Whyren's Reserve, if you have it. Tal'dira?"

      "This Whyr'rensreserve will suffice for me as well." The droid beeped an

      understanding of the order and rolled away. Wedge smiled at the Twi'lek. "You

      did not come here to tell me what you thought of the raid against Iceheart."

      "Ah, but I did." Tal'dira leaned forward and raised his hands so his chin could

      rest on his outstretched thumbs. "The galaxy is changing. I am not old enough to


      remember the prior Republican era, but I have heard tales of the Clone Wars.

      Since its birth, the Empire sought to maintain peace, but there was much

      conflict that they ignored, conflict in which a warrior could find a career and

      build himself into a legend. And then there was the Rebellion . . ."

      The Twi'lek fell silent as the droid returned with their drinks. Wedge plucked

      the tumblers of the amber liquid from the serving tray and set one before his

      guest. Hoisting his own glass aloft he offered a toast. "To warriors and their

      legends." Tal'dira nodded and added, "And to those skilled enough to become

      living legends."

      Wedge touched his tumbler to Tal'dira's and drank. He let the whisky linger on

      his tongue for a moment, then let it

      trail fire down his throat and into his belly. He gave himself a moment to

      consider what Tal'dira had said and he thought he had a glimmering of where the

      Twi'lek meant the conversation to go. The thought that he might be right

      threatened to plant a smile on his face, so he deliberately narrowed his eyes.

      "The Rebellion was very much a place where warriors were able to build

      reputations. Too many of them have become posthumous legends, but that was one

      conflict that fav ored the courageous and devoured the weak." Wedge kept his

      voice even, but found his words surprising him. It felt natural to refer to the

      Rebellion in the past tense, as if it were over even before the last bits of the

      Empire had been smashed. He realized that this thought was not wholly wrong, for

      the conquest of Coruscant had elevated the Rebellion from being a movement to

      being a government almost overnight. That's a transformation I never thought I'd

      see.

      Tal'dira's black talons clicked gently against the duraplast tabletop. "It is my

      profound wish I had been possessed of the foresight to join the Rebellion."

      Wedge shrugged his shoulders. "You had responsibilities as a Twi'lek warrior. I

      had no such responsibilities and could therefore join the Rebellion."

      "True, but to acquit my duties to my people I should have opposed the Empire."

      Wedge frowned for a moment. The political makeup of the Empire had been such

      that the nonhuman populations always knew they existed at the sufferance of the

      Emperor. For many of them, remaining unnoticed by the Empire seemed the best way

      to make sure they were not destroyed. Historically, the Twi'leks found

      negotiation and deal making preferable to direct confrontation, and this

      preference had served them well during the time of the Rebellion. They seemed to

      view both the Empire and the Rebellion as rival heat storms that would

      annihilate each other, leaving the Twi'leks in a position to thrive afterward.

      The victory of one side over the other had not been predictedespecially not the

      Rebellion's victory. Tal'dira's lament is genuine, but the product of

      hindsight.

      "I would have been happy to have you fighting beside

      me, and Nawar'aven has been a boon to my squadron, but you did what was required

      of you." Wedge smiled. "Until you put together those fighters I saw on Ryloth, I

      know you had very little in the way of hyperspace-capable ships native to

      Ryloth. I have to imagine the Empire deliberately suppressed such technology on

      Ryloth so they would not have to deal with you as a force."

      "It is kind of you to say so."

      "To even think otherwise would be to do you a disservice. While many think of

      Twi'leks as traders, I know you have a proud warrior tradition."

      "But our warriors are unproven to the galaxy." Tal'dira waved a hand toward the

      half of the station above his head. "As you have said, to most of the galaxy

      Twi'leks are merchants like Koh'shak or criminals like Bib Fortuna. You have

      been to Ryloth. You know this is not true, but such is the impression that has

      been made on the galaxy. Thinking that sapient beings believe all of us to be

      merchants and thieves preys on my mind."

      Wedge glanced down at his tumbler of whisky. "I thought the fighters you have

      created were impressive." The Twi'leks had taken a TIE fighter's ball cockpit

      and married to it the S-foils of an X-wing fighter. The S-foils were connected

      to a collar that allowed them to rotate independently of the cockpit, much in

      the way the cruciform stabilizers on the B-wing rotated around its cockpit. The

      design provided stability for the pilot and had proved very effective with the

      B-wing. "Their maneuverability, I would imagine, makes them very formidable."

      Tal'dira straightened up and smiled with genuine pleasure. "The Twi'leki

      designation for them is Chir'daki. In your Basic it would be Deathseed. It

      recalls the spores of a parasitic fungus that invades a larger creature and

      destroys it. Most unpleasant, as would be facing our Chir'daki in combat."

      Wedge sipped a bit more whisky. "They are hyperspace capable?"

      "Indeed. The twin-ion engines are used for main propulsion. The engines on the

      S-foils are smaller than those in your X-wings, but they provide power for the

      hyperdrive mo-

      tivators and shield generators. We have quad lasers for our weaponryno proton

      torpedoes because we decided obtaining supplies of them might be difficult."

      "Wise decisionproton torps and concussion missiles are the only things we're

      having trouble finding. Booster is using up a lot of favors to get them." Wedge

      gave Tal'dira a curt nod. "I envy you your ships."

      "And I envy you your ability to win victories." Tal'dira played with his tumbler

      of whisky in a most unwarriorly fashion. "You have proven yourself time and

      again a most dangerous enemy."

      Wedge glanced down for a moment and stroked his chin with his right hand. "It

      occurs to me, Tal'dira, that it would be a waste for your ships to go untested."

      A light sparked deep in the Twi'lek's dark eyes. "Indeed, a great waste."

      "Perhaps it would be possible for you and some of your pilots to join us." Wedge

      spread his hands open. "The work is dangerous, and we will find ourselves

      outcasts everywhere if we fail."

      Tal'dira's lekku twitched nonchalantly. "Twi'leks have been outcasts before."

      "Can you give me a squadron?"

      The warrior nodded. "Fearful that pirates might prey upon Koh'shak's freighter,

      we shipped with a dozen Death-seeds and pilots. We would be honored to join your

      battle against Iceheart."

      Which is what you wanted the instant you heard we were fighting her, but you

      could never have asked. You wanted to be invited. Wedge sat back. "I know you

      are aware of how serious this is, but there really are fairly grand problems

      here. If you join us, Iceheart could cut the bacta supply to Ryloth."

      "Ryll may not be bacta, but it suffices for many of our needs." Tal'dira

      shrugged. "Twi'leks pride themselves on being hearty, and bacta is seen in some

      quarters as a means for the weak to survive. If we are deprived of it we will

      lose people, but if we do not oppose Iceheart and take our place in the galaxy,

      what is the reason for living?"

      "And you know Iceheart isn't going to forgive you if we lose."

      The Twi'lek smiled easily. "The implacable foe is the only one worth facing. If

      we know we have lost everything we will fight that much harder. S
    uch are the

      battles worth winning and worth taking pride in."

      Wedge raised his tumbler again and clinked it against Tal'dira's. "Welcome to

      the Bacta War, Tal'dira. Here's hoping Iceheart and her people choke on your

      Deathseeds."

      15

      The thing Corran hated the most about floating in the bacta tank was that he

      could see blurred figures outside the tank, but he couldn't communicate with

      them. Even when one or more got close enough to press a hand to the

      transparisteel window into the tank, he couldn't make out who was at the far end

      of the arm. He could guess, but since the room outside the tank was kept dim

      and lit mostly by a yellow-green glow from within the tank itself, confirming

      his guesses was impossible.

      He had no way of knowing how long he'd been in the tank, but he found the

      duration of his stay both too long and too short. Pain in his back and guts had

      been overwhelming at first, but it subsided after a while. In its wake came a

      tingling in his legs, which was good since he'd not felt anything in them at

      first. Only after feeling returned to them did Corran allow himself to think

      about how badly he had been hurt and how close he'd come to death.

      / probably broke my pelvis in the fall, then when the stormtroopers landed on me

      I broke my back and probably ruptured internal organs. Had bacta not been

      available, those injuries would have been fatal.

      That realization sobered Corran and gave him a clarity of mind that allowed him

      to go back over what he had done at the spaceport. His two mistakes were very

      clear and gnawed at him. / should have known better. I am not a Jedi. Trying to

      use Jedi methods without proper training is stupid, as I found out. I'm as bad

      as wannabe policea Jedi vigilante. If Jedi techniques were just parlor tricks

      and illusions, the Emperor wouldn't have hunted all the Jedi down and had them

      destroyed. If these abilities are that dangerous, they shouldn't be used without

      proper training.

      While that line of thought made certain he'd never again try to warp the brain

      of a stormtrooper, Corran was not as harsh in his self-judgment concerning the

      fight on the catwalk. Lacking a blaster and pinned down by crossfire, to do

      nothing would have meant both he and Mirax would be dead. Escaping that trap

      required action and he'd taken action. His mistake in the fight had been the

     


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