Part 32 (1/2)

”That is an invasion fleet?”

Wedge looked at his tactical readout, shaking his head in silent agreement. Two forty-year-old Kruk battle-wagons, five Lancer-cla.s.s frigates probably half that age, and maybe thirty modern Jompers customs pursuit s.h.i.+ps.

”So much for the big bad threat,” Rogue Eight commented contemptuously. ”We could probably chase them out of here all by ourselves.”

”I don't know,” Rogue Eleven said. ”Someone seems plenty worried about them. Take a look at the far planetary rim-must be twenty freighters scurrying for cover.”

”And another hundred who aren't going to make it,” Rogue Seven pointed out. ”There to portside-the Frezhlix force has got them cut off.”

”I get it,” Rogue Nine said. ”Those clever little sc.u.mrots. That must be the annual pommwomm plant s.h.i.+pment.”

”Frezhlix attack force, this is General Bel Iblis of the New Republic,” Bel Iblis's voice announced. ”Please state your intentions.”

”I am Plarx,” a thickly accented voice shot back. ”I speak for the Frezhlix. Our intentions do not concern the New Republic. This is a private matter between ourselves and the Sif'kries.”

”I'm afraid I cannot accept that,” Bel Iblis said. ”Any aggression against a New Republic member is our concern.”

”This is not aggression, General Bel Iblis,” the Frezh countered. ”We are a delegation come to discuss the Sif'krie vote on the Drashtine Initiative.”

There was a pause, Bel Iblis no doubt having someone look up what exactly the Drashtine Initiative was. ”Corran, what are these pommwomm plants you mentioned?” Wedge asked.

”They're a type of hot-world shrub that grows on the system's inner planet,” Rogue Nine said. ”You can get about eight different exotic medicines and twice that number of food flavorings out of them. Problem is, they have to be processed within thirty hours of picking or they're useless.”

”So that's what the Frezhlix are doing,” Rogue Seven growled. ”They don't have to invade anyone or set up a long-term blockade ring. All they have to do is keep those freighters back for a few hours, and the Sif'kries are out a bunch of money.”

”Try about twenty percent of their annual gross product,” Rogue Nine put in. ”We're talking serious economic warfare here. No wonder they sounded panicked when they called.”

The main channel crackled to life again. ”Speaker Plan, this is General Bel Iblis. I've reviewed the Drashtine Initiative, and I see no justification for this kind of confrontation.”

”Then you did not review it closely,” the Frezh snarled. ”The Sif'krie government cast the deciding vote that prevented our sector's Senator from adding his voice to the growing condemnation of the Bothan government and people.”

”The vote was legally taken-”

”The vote was wrong!” Plan snapped. ”To allow the Bothans to escape proper punishment will merely encourage further atrocities like Caamas in the future. The Sif'krie government must be made aware of that and given the opportunity to change its vote.”

”A convenient enough excuse,” Rogue Two muttered.

”He's got a point, though,” Rogue Five said. ”Heavily wrapped in local politics and blackmail, but a point.”

”I understand your feelings on this matter,” Bel Iblis said. ”But at the same time we cannot stand by and allow you to interfere with interstellar commerce this way.”

”Untrue,” the Frezh said. ”I encourage you to review New Republic regulations on such matters, General Eel Iblis.”

There was another pause. ”He's right,” Rogue Twelve said grimly. ”This is intrasystem, not interstellar. We can't move in unless and until we get an official invitation to do so.”

”Which means it's all in the government's shockball court now,” Rogue Five muttered. What do you think, Corran? Can they move fast enough to save the plants?”

”I don't know,” Rogue Nine said. ”But I'd be willing to lay odds the Frezhlix picked a time to pull this stunt when some key Sif'krie official is off-planet or otherwise out of touch.”

There was a click on the private channel. ”Rogue Squadron, this is Bel Iblis. Commander Horn?”

”Yes, sir?” Rogue Nine said.

”I was given to understand that Booster Terrik has some interests in this sector. Is that true?”

There was just the briefest of pauses. ”Yes, General, he does.”

”Would those interests occasionally include legitimate s.h.i.+pping? Say, when the need and fees are high enough, such as during the annual pommwomm s.h.i.+pment?”

There was a longer pause this time. ”I really don't know, sir,” Rogue Nine said, sounding puzzled.

”I think it reasonable that they would,” Bel Iblis continued. ”Given that a.s.sumption, do you suppose one of those stalled freighters out there might belong to him?”

And suddenly, Wedge understood. The legendary General Eel Iblis was going to pull this one off, all right. Maybe. ”Do we have IDs on the s.h.i.+ps, General?” he asked.

”I'm sending the data across now,” Bel Iblis said. ”Commander Horn, take a look, please.”

”Understood, sir,” Rogue Nine said, his voice no longer puzzled. So he'd caught on, too.

”Yes. That freighter listed as the Sycophant Jolly&mdashover at the far side of the pack?

I believe that could actually be the Hoopster's Prank, one of Booster's s.h.i.+ps.”

”I see,” Bel Iblis said, his voice suddenly heavy with official weight. ”I recognize your familial relations.h.i.+p with Captain Terrik, Commander, and I realize that this is going to be personally painful for you. But you're an officer of the New Republic Fleet; and we cannot and will not bend the rules against smuggling for anyone.”

”We understand, sir,” Wedge said, pitching his tone to the same seriousness level.

”Request permission to check out this suspect s.h.i.+p.”

”Permission granted, Rogue Squadron,” Bel. Iblis said. ”Be careful not to accidentally engage the Frezhlix forces.”

”Understood, sir,” Wedge said. ”Rogue Squadron, form up around me.”

Kicking power to the drive, he swung the X-wing away from the Peregrine. ”Looks like the most direct route to the Sycophant Jolly is right through the middle of the Frezhlix blockade force,” Rogue Eight commented.

”And we certainly don't want to give them time to dump any contraband while we fly around,” Rogue Nine agreed.

”I guess we'll have to go through the blockade, then,” Rogue Two concluded. ”Just everyone be careful not to accidentally engage.”

”Very careful,” Wedge said. ”Let's do it.”

They were halfway to the Frezhlix forces before the alien commander suddenly seemed to notice what was happening. ”General Bel Iblis, what are your starfighters doing?” he demanded. ”You have no legal justification for an attack on my s.h.i.+ps.”

”Your s.h.i.+ps are not under attack, Speaker Plarx,” Bel Iblis a.s.sured him. ”We've identified one of the freighters waiting beyond your delegation as a smuggler flying under a false ID. By New Republic law, we have both the right and the duty to board any such s.h.i.+p and impound its cargo.”

It was forever afterward unclear to Wedge just what exactly the Frezhlix commander thought was going to happen next. Whether he thought Bel Iblis was planning to transfer the perishable cargo from all hundred-odd freighters to the Peregrine, or just declare all the freighters suspect and insist they be escorted down to the planet for a proper search. But whichever it was, he leaped to the wrong conclusion-and the bait-with both hands. ”No!”