Star Wars X-Wing: Chasing Phantoms, Chapter One

    Takes place concurrently to From the Ashes.

CHAPTER ONE

  Admiral Rae Sloane released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as the Star Destroyer Vigilance dropped out of hyperspace.

The planet Akiva was an unassuming world, its surface covered with jungles and canyons. Its only city sprawl was concentrated in its capital Myrra, which had once been host to a droid factory for the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars. Nowadays, the planet was firmly under the Empire’s rule, although it laid dangerously close between both Mandalorian Space and the Quelii Oversector, the latter of which had become a power base for the warlord Zsinj. Although Zsinj’s faction remained nominally loyal to the greater Empire, many—including Sloane—were just waiting for the day when he declared his own independence just as so many other warlords already had in the wake of the Emperor’s death. The recent loss of Grand Vizier Pestage and the shakeup of the Imperial Ruling Council had only further strengthened such fears.

That was, of course, a large part of why Sloane was here. With the Empire’s future in doubt, she had taken the initiative of calling for a secret summit here at Akiva, summoning representatives of the various Imperial factions to convene here and, hopefully, reach an agreement that would unify the fragmented Empire and allow them to crush the Rebellion that now called itself a “New Republic.”

Sloane realized she was taking a huge risk by being here. She was still loyal to the greater Empire that continued to rule from Coruscant, which was now in the hands of Director Ysanne Isard of Imperial Intelligence after she had taken stewardship from the disposed Grand Vizier. But Sloane had not told Isard about the summit. She would probably find out eventually, given her role as head of Intelligence, but anything that happened here was off the record. And if any of Isard’s agents found out that Sloane was convening with representatives of other warlords, they would surely have her arrested for treason and collusion.

The very thought of being accused of such things troubled her to her very core, as well as made her question her own loyalty to the Empire that she had been devoted to for so much of her life. Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have even conceived of the idea for this summit, knowing how dangerous and risky it was.

But other factors had convinced her to play her hand. There was no turning back now.

No more than a minute had passed since their arrival at Akiva that her executive officer Nymos Lyle reported to her. “We are detecting the arrival of other other ships. Star Destroyers Ascent and Vanquish. RTV liner Golden Harp.”

“All right on schedule,” Sloane murmured. “Prepare my shuttle and alert the satrap of my impending arrival.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Sloane took one last look at the approaching world of Akiva, taking in a sharp breath as she witnessed the other ships dropping out of hyperspace, taking position close to where the Vigilance was. When none of them made a move to attach her own vessel, she released her breath before turning on her heel and departing from the bridge, hoping that she had made the right decision.

*  *  *

“That don’t look good.”

Temmin Wexley nearly hit his head on the underside of the landspeeder he had been operating on as he rolled out from beneath it. He cast his gaze to the old Lutrillian sitting nearby, staring up at the sky as he chewed on a strand of wheat. Floating among the clouds were the silhouettes of at least three Star Destroyers. Not exactly an uncommon sight on Akiva.

“Looks like an average Taungsday to me,” Temmin muttered, about to get back to work.

“This time’s different.” There was no change to Flewel’s consistent monotone, no indication of fear or dread, which made Temmin wonder if the old man was messing with him. “Can feel it in my bones.”

Temmin snorted, shaking his head. “What are you, a Jedi? The Empire shows up like this all the time, just trying to make a big show to remind us that they’re still the ones in charge. Don’t worry about it.”

Shaking his head, Flewel dug into the pockets of his overalls and fished out a handful of credichips, which he dropped into Temmin’s hand. “Best get home, son. Lock down the hatches. Things are gonna get rough around here.”

Temmin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? I haven’t even finished—”

But the Lutrillian wasn’t listening to him, already pushing him out of the open garage. “I can handle it myself. See you tomorrow, son. If there is a tomorrow.”

Temmin shook his head but decided not to argue any further, knowing that it would be useless. He had always found Flewel to be strange, ever since he had first started working for him to make a quick credit after his mother had left to join the Rebellion. He made most of his money from the junk shop that he operated out of their old family home, but business had been tough lately ever since news of the Emperor’s death reached Akiva. People were afraid to leave their houses now, afraid that the Imperials already present on the planet were going to double-down in their crackdowns to maintain control, or because the criminal elements of Akiva were going to take the opportunity to incite some anarchy. So far, the local crime boss Surat Nuat hadn’t cause any problems for the Empire, already having them in his pockets, but he also hadn’t passed up the opportunity to harass small businesses, including Temmin’s.

In the meantime, Temmin had been able to make some extra money by doing house calls for people he knew he could trust, such as Flewel. In fact, Flewel was pretty much the only person he could bring himself to trust these days, having already had a close call with Nuat’s gang after some of his other contacts had tried to sell him out to the Sullustan crime lord. But with the old Lutrillian acting strange all of a sudden, he now wasn’t sure how much longer that contract was going to last.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Temmin walked through the streets of Myrra, keeping his head low as he made his way back towards his junk shop—his home. It had been four years since his mother had left him to fight for the Rebellion, leaving him in the care of aunts. It wasn’t long after that he decided to strike out on his own, choosing to fend for himself. On the surface, he had done this out of sheer youthful rebellion, but deep down it had been to protect his dear aunts. Before his mother had left, his father had been arrested by Imperials for working with the Rebel Alliance, and now that his mother was fighting for them, he had begun to worry that the Empire would soon come for him next, perhaps to indoctrinate him or keep him quiet or some other means of taking him out of the picture. Since he did not want his aunts to get into any trouble, he had decided to return to his parent’s home, which he then converted into a junk shop.

It hadn’t been easy, but so far his new independent life had been working out for him. Better yet, it was just him, meaning that if the Empire did crackdown on local businesses, he would be the only one affected. He hated depending on others, and having others depend on him. It was not a burden he wanted weighing on his shoulders. Better that he be the one to suffer for his actions than anyone else.

As he turned the corner that led to his shop, he looked up in the sky at the three Star Destroyers that had gotten Flewel acting all strange. While Star Destroyers weren’t an uncommon sight on Akiva, it was strange seeing three of them in this sort of formation. They didn’t seem to be part of the usual fleet and instead had come from different directions. Were they just visiting? Or were changes being made? 

Akiva didn’t get much news about the galaxy outside thanks to the Satrap cracking down on transmissions, but from what he had heard from visiting spacers, things weren’t looking good for the Empire. The Rebellion had since established a new Republic and was making great strides against the Empire, which was now fragmented and divided between various splinter factions. Temmin wasn’t sure if Akiva was still under the control of the greater Empire or if it had since fallen to one of the many warlords. Perhaps the three Star Destroyers had something to do with that. Whatever the case, he didn’t have high hopes about the New Republic liberating Akiva anytime soon; as planets went, it was as backwater and of low importance as one got.

As he got closer to his shop, Temmin saw that he appeared to have a customer waiting outside, although she didn’t look like his usual clientele. The woman looked to be in her thirties, and was also strikingly beautiful, even  in the drab gray clothes she wore. Her swelled stomach indicated she was pregnant, and probably only months if not weeks away from delivery. She appeared to be lost, and when she noticed Temmin approaching her, she offered him a polite smile.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I was wondering if you could point me to the nearest shelter.”

Temmin shrugged. “I don’t know of any shelters around here.” He eyed the woman carefully, wondering if she was one of Surat Nuat’s people, sent to lure him into some sort of trap. She certainly didn’t sound like she was from around here, no matter how much she tried to hide her Core accent. Was she Imperial, perhaps?

“You could try going to the community center,” he suggested, reaching for the keycard to his house and huddling close to the door so that the woman didn’t try to grab it from him.

“I’m not sure that’s an option for me.” The barely disguised fear in her voice prompted Temmin to look back at the woman. Her eyes, which were very blue, were not focused on him but instead on the three Star Destroyers looming in the sky. “Please. If you could just let me spend the night here. I promise I won’t bother you, and I’ll be gone in the morning. I’ve already brought my own food as well.” She held up a small case in her hands, which was probably only big enough to carry a couple of ration packs.

Temmin’s gut was telling him to turn her away, convinced that she was trying to get his guard down in order to rob him. A pregnant woman was practically the perfect ploy. But something in her voice caused him to think twice, and the way she was looking at those Star Destroyers was starting to make him think that Flewel might have been on to something.

Against his better judgment, he opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. The woman was still thanking him even after she had dashed inside and he followed her in, closing and locking the door behind them.

“Thank you so much,” she was saying. “I promise I’ll only be here for the night.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Temmin muttered. “There’s a spare cot right next to the refresher. You can sleep there.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

Temmin hesitated. He still wasn’t sure who this lady was or where she was from—she definitely wasn’t local. In case she did turn out to be a spy for Surat Nuat or worse the Empire, he decided not to give her his true name.

“People sometimes call me Snap,” he said. “You can use that if you’d like.”

The woman nodded, seeming to pick up on his apprehension and perhaps even understanding. “Nice to meet you, Snap. You can call me Syal.”

Something in her tone indicated she was being guarded about her identity as well, which made Temmin more curious rather than suspicious. Shrugging it off, he left her to get settled while he walked over to his workplace. As soon as he stepped into the room, a loud tinny voice spoke out from the darkness.

“WELCOME HOME, MASTER TEMMIN.”

Temmin winced and wondered if Syal had been startled by it. He was used to it, of course, but not everyone had a repurposed B1 battle droid as a companion.

“Hi to you, too, Mister Bones,” he said. “Listen, we’ve got company tonight. A woman named Syal.”

The battle droid stepped out of the darkness, its red and black chassis covered in makeshift bone armor. It raised an arm and its right servo sprung back to reveal a blade. “DO YOU WANT ME TO REMOVE THE COMPANY?”

“No!” Temmin hissed, slapping a hand over the droid’s mouthpiece (not that it did anything to silence the machine). “She’s a friend—for now. And keep it down, will you? She’s only in the next room.”

Mister Bones nodded its head. “ROGER ROGER. I WILL NOT KILL THE WOMAN NAMED SYAL.”

Temmin sighed as he rolled his eyes before looking back over to where Syal had been. He could see that the door to the room he had given her was closed, indicating she had already got settled in. He knew that the doors were reinforced enough to muffle most sounds. Of course, Mister Bones’s voice was not “most sounds.”

In many ways, having a battle droid for a best friend was as much a blessing as it was a curse. He had built the droid out of spare parts he had recovered from the abandoned droid factory found in the catacombs beneath Myrra, mainly for the purposes of serving as a bodyguard to protect him from Nuat’s people. But the droid had proved to be much more than that, in ways that even Temmin couldn’t explain.

Mister Bones was pretty much the only being that he could consider a friend. Certainly the only being he could trust his life with. There was no one else he would rather have by his side—especially tonight when everyone and everything was acting so strangely.

“Stay alert, buddy,” Temmin said aloud to his trusted companion. “I get the feeling that tonight is going to be a strange one.”

Mister Bones nodded and saluted with his knife-hand. “ROGER ROGER.”

*  *  *

Syal had been startled when she heard the battle droid’s loud voice but forced herself to relax when she had overheard Snap’s hushed comments. She knew she still had to be on her guard, even if the young boy seemed to be trustworthy. She wouldn’t be safe until she was found by the New Republic and back in the arms of her husband.

She wasn’t sure what the presence of the three Star Destroyers in the sky meant. The timing seemed to be too coincidental for her liking, having appeared less than an hour after she had arrived on Akiva. Had Isard already managed to track her down? Or was she just being paranoid?

Of course, it’s not really paranoia when they really are after you.

Syal shook her head to clear her thoughts and laid down on the bed Snap had let her have. She would stay here for the night and pray that no one came knocking on the door. When the morning came, she would leave and hopefully find somewhere else to stay or otherwise find a means off Akiva. It didn’t do well to stay in one place when you were on the run; no matter what happened, she was leaving tomorrow, no matter the risks.

Resting a hand on her stomach, Syal wished her unborn child sweet dreams as she herself tried to get some much needed rest.

Despite the dark thoughts swimming in her mind, sleep was eventually able to claim her.

*  *  *

Because of the dark thoughts swimming in his mind, Wedge Antilles could not sleep.

He had tried to tell himself that it was anything but that. The bunks on the Lodestar weren’t exactly anything like the ones found on Home One; as an Acclamator-class assault ship, it was very much a relic of the Clone Wars that felt very Old Republic and not at all like the Mon Calamari cruisers he was used to. Even the flight simulators that he and his Rogues had been practicing with were better designed for V-wings and ARC-170s rather than the X-wings they were accustomed to. Sometimes, walking down one of the corridors made him feel like he was on an Imperial ship rather than a New Republic one, the aesthetics not having evolved much between the Old Republic and Imperial periods when it came to interior design.

But he knew he was kidding himself. All of those things were trivial compared to the thing that was really weighing on his mind. The thing that had haunted him ever since he learned the truth.

His sister was alive.

Syal was somewhere out there, and he vowed to find her. It was promise he had made not only to himself but to her husband—his brother-in-law—who had defected from the Empire in exchange for the New Republic’s help in finding Syal.

But little progress had been made. It certainly didn’t help that the New Republic was preoccupied with an increasing number of warlords, a situation that had only worsened with the failed extraction of Grand Vizier Sate Pestage and subsequent reports of his death. While they had just dealt with the wicked Lord Shadowspawn at Mindor, there were still others to account for, from Delvardus and Zsinj to the Teradoc brothers and Harrsk… it was an ongoing fight that did not seem to have an end in sight. And Wedge could only guess when they would ever get around to finding Syal, seeing as the Rogues were constantly being called to different assignments across the galaxy.

As of now, they had been given a brief respite after the defeat of Shadowspawn. They had since been transferred to the Barma Battle Group, a task force commanded by General Hera Syndulla. Wedge was familiar with General Syndulla, having worked with her during his early days as a member of the Rebel Alliance. It was perhaps only because of their mutual familiarity that General Syndulla and her people had tolerated the presence of his brother-in-law aboard the Lodestar.

Baron Soontir Fel’s reputation was undoubtedly one that preceded him, having shot down enough rebel pilots that odds were high the friends of those pilots were likely serving with the Barma Battle Group. It had already been a struggle to get the likes of Admiral Ackbar to accept Fel’s defection, and the former Imperial ace had certainly proved himself at Ciutric and Mindor. But it was still an uphill battle that Wedge felt he was still fighting, especially with the time table of Syal’s rescue constantly being pushed back. How long was it before Fel decided that the New Republic wouldn’t pull through on their end of the bargain and he sought help elsewhere, or worse returned to the Empire?

Wedge shook his head to dispel such notions from his mind. He knew better than that. He trusted Fel. He needed to trust Fel. Just as Fel needed to trust him.

“Glad I’m not the only having trouble sleeping.”

Wedge moved with a start as he turned around. He thought he had been alone in the deserted cafeteria area of the Lodestar, but the sight of Wes Janson standing there in the darkness told him otherwise.

Shoulders sagging, Wedge blew out his breath. “Don’t scare me like that, Janson.”

Wes shrugged as he walked over to take the seat across from him. “You gave me a bit of fright as well. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be down here.”

“Why are you down here?” Wedge asked. “Here to grab a midnight snack?”

Wes shook his head, propping his feet up on the table. “Like I said, couldn’t sleep. Those bunks are more cramped than a Swokes Swokes bathhouse.”

“Thanks for that mental image,” Wedge muttered. “Guess comfort wasn’t exactly a priority for Republic soldiers during the Clone Wars.”

“We’ve been spoiled.” Wes paused to look directly at Wedge. Despite the darkness, he could no doubt see the harrowed look in his commanding officer’s eyes. “Something tells me that the bunks aren’t the reason for your lack of sleep.”

Wedge sighed, knowing there would be no point in hiding it. “General Syndulla knows about the search for Syal, but I’ve tried not to push the matter with her. The more times passes though, the more I’m afraid she’s going to slip away from us.”

“Maybe you should push the matter with her. Because if you don’t, I’m sure Fel will. And I’m not sure how well that’s going to go down. You’ve felt the tension here.”

“I’ve felt it ever since Brentaal.”

“Then the sooner we find Syal, the sooner Fel can double-down on his loyalty to us. Because if we don’t find her—”

“I know,” Wedge cut him off. “I’ve thought the same thing. I don’t want to believe it….”

“But it’s still a possibility,” Wes finished for him. He threw a glance at the chronometer mounted on the wall. “Well, it’ll be waking hours in a few. If you catch General Syndulla early, you might be able to make your case for her.”

“Right,” Wedge nodded, not exactly feeling confident.

Wes continued to stare at him for a moment before leaning back, casually changing topics. “Have you taken a gander at the hangar bay lately?”

Wedge frowned in thought. “Not since we first got here. Why?”

“They’ve got quite the variety of ships. Some even I don’t see that often. Like, when was the last time you saw anyone fly a V-wing?”

“This ship is from the Clone Wars,” Wedge pointed out. “It doesn’t surprise me that it would carry a couple of fighters from that period.”

“Okay. What about a K-wing? Or a D-wing? Kark it, they’ve even got a T-wing. I thought High Command sold all of those pieces of junk.”

Wedge furrowed his brows. That was quite the odd selection of fighters. And there was a pattern to all of them. “They’re all letter wings.”

“Yeah, I went to school, too, Wedge.”

“No, I mean… does that not seem deliberate? Like, did you see more than one of a particular fighter?”

Wes thought for a moment. “Besides the usual X-wings, Y-wings, and the like? I don’t think so.”

Wedge tapped his chin for a moment before saying, “I have heard… rumors about a new unit that’s been in operation since just after Endor. I think they’ve been hunting down the 204th Imperial Wing.”

Wes’s eyes went wide. “The Shadow Wing? They’re one of the Empire’s best, next to the 181st. Well, Fel’s 181st.”

Wedge nodded. It might have even explained some of the animosity directed towards Fel aboard the Lodestar. He might not have ever been with the Shadow Wing, but when one was hunting down TIE pilots… the sight of someone who used to be one might as well rub salt in wounds.

“Well,” he said eventually, “if it’s anything General Syndulla wants us to know, I’m sure she’ll tell us eventually.”

“Sure.” This time it was Wes’s turn to nod with some amount of uncertainty. “How do you know her, anyway?”

“When I first joined the Rebellion, I was part of a mission to extract defecting Imperial cadets from the Skystrike Academy on Montross. General Syndulla was in command of that operation.”

“And was it a success?”

Wedge’s face fell. “No. One of the cadets was killed during the attempt and the others withdrew, forcing us to leave without them. We did leave with one cadet, but it turned out she was another infiltrator sent in ahead of the rest of us.”

“Do you recall her name?”

“Her alias at the academy was Ria Talla. Her real name was Sabine, I think.”

Wes nodded absently before letting out a yawn and taking his feet off the table. “Welp. Might as well try to get some shut eye before it’s back to work. You should probably do the same, Commander.”

“Yeah,” Wedge muttered. “Probably.”

But even after Wes had left, he was still sitting there in the cafeteria. He was still awake and alert when he heard the morning alarm on the ship go off.

X-WING

CHASING PHANTOMS