[Hand Of Thrawn] - 01(149)

A minute later they were flying in tight parade-flight formation, the twin lasers on Wedge’s starboard wingtips nearly brushing the underside of Rogue’ Nine’s fuselage. “All right,” he said, easing in another couple of centimeters. “You’ve got my starboard flank; I’ve got your portside. Give it a fast look and see if you can spot anything that shouldn’t be there. If you don’t, we’ll switch sides.”

“No need,” Rogue Nine said, his voice taut. “There it is: a thin cylinder running vertically between the S-foils, just forward of the laser power line.”

“You’ve got one, too,” Wedge growled. Now that he knew where to look, the add-on was obvious. “Ten to one the whole squadron’s been booby-trapped.”

“All right, so we don’t lock S-foils,” Rogue Two said. “We can still fire, can’t we?”

“I don’t think we should try it,” Wedge warned, frowning hard at the innocent-looking cylinder. “In fact-Corran, roll starboard a couple of degrees, will you?”

Rogue Nine’s fuselage rolled away slowly from him. “I was right,” Wedge bit out, thoroughly disgusted now. “The top of the cylinder’s got two branches. One runs into the wing’s servo -line, the other looks like it feeds right into the laser power line. My guess is that either locking or firing will knock out the lasers. Or worse.”

Rogue Twelve cursed feelingly. “Has to have been those two Leresai in the Di’tai’ni maintenance crew who were always hanging around,” he said. “So what do we do, try to bluff them?”

Wedge looked out at the Leresen ships. They were on the move now, starting to form up around the manufacturing station speeding helplessly toward them. “No point,” be said quietly. “They already know we’re out of it.”

And so they watched helplessly as the Leresai set about quickly, efficiently, and systematically demolishing the station. Taking their toll of twenty innocent lives in payment for the guilty.

By the time the rest of the Peregrine task force arrived, it was all over.

Or, perhaps more accurately, it had just begun.

***

“It’s finally started,” Leia announced bleakly as she locked the apartment door behind her and sank down onto the couch next to Han. “The shooting has finally started.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Han said grimly, radiating concern as be slipped his arm around her. “What’s the Senate doing about it?”

“Mostly trying to figure out what they can do,” Leia told him.

“What’s to figure?” Han asked. “The Leresai slaughtered twenty-one Bothans, not to mention shredding a perfectly good space station. Can’t Gavrisom just order the Leresen government brought up on charges?”

“I wish it were that easy,” Leia said. “Unfortunately, it’s not. Three of the High Councilors have already stated they’ll vote against any such resolution, on the grounds that we haven’t made similar reparation demands on the Bothan government over the destruction of Caamas.”

“But they’re not the same thing,” Han insisted. “In fact, they’re exactly opposite. The Leresai killed innocent people; the Caamas thing is about not punishing innocent people.”

“We didn’t demand that the Bothans punish the surviving guards who fired on the rioters, either,” Leia reminded him.

She sensed his flash of gruff embarrassment. “Yeah,” be growled. “Because of me.”

Leia squeezed his knee reassuringly. “Not just because of you, dear,” she said. “The Council’s position is that the guards’ action qualified as self-defense. Unfortunately, not everyone sees it that way.”

Han sniffed. “Clan thinking.”

“Yes, I know,” Leia said. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either, to hold a relative or clansman responsible for someone else’s actions. But the reality is that family or clan accountability is a central tenet of a lot of cultures out there.”

“Maybe,” Han conceded. “But you still have to slap down the Leresai. If you don’t, it’ll just encourage everyone else who has a grudge against the Bothans.”

“It already has,” Leia said, a shiver running through her. “A dozen other governments have filed notice with the Senate that they’re going to be presenting their own lists of demands against the Bothans.”

“Or else?”

Leia shrugged. “That’s the implied threat.”

Han made a rude noise in the back of his throat “You know what high esteem I hold the Bothans in, hon, but this is getting ridiculous. I suppose Fey’lya’s screaming to Gavrisom for protection?”