Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap

  drinks, so that's not a big surprise, I guess.

  The shorter man offered Gavin his hand. "Herrit

  Gordon, Ministry of State."

  "Gavin Darklighter, Rogue Squadron."

  Herrit shook his hand firmly. "Glad to meet you. I did a

  tour of duty with the Diplomatic Corps on Bothawui, so they

  felt they had to invite me." He pointed off toward a woman

  who looked positively dowdy amid a circle of Bothan fe-

  males. "That's my wife, Tatavan. She learned to speak

  Bothan, so she's quite popular among the Bothans."

  "A useful skill, I have no doubt. I only know a few

  words." Gavin sipped his ale again. "I came with Asyr

  Sei'lar. She's a friend of Liska Dan'kre."

  "I know the family. I liaised with her father on

  Bothawui. Minor nobles, but they have a thriving trade busi-

  ness to support them, so they wield a bit more power than

  might be imagined by their place in the formal hierarchy."

  "Powerful, really?"

  "She was able to bring you, wasn't she?"

  Gavin frowned and drank again, killing the need for an

  immediate reply. I know she didn't bring me as a trophy--

  she told me that much and I believe her. "You make it sound

  as if she's trying to annoy some of the folks here."

  "Not the impression I meant to make, I'm afraid. Asyr is

  something of a renegade. She went to school with Liska and

  some of the others."

  "I know. She told me."

  "I'm sure she did. That school, however, was meant to

  prepare her for a life as a trader or in a governmental posi-

  tion. Without her family's permission she transmitted an ap-

  plication to the Bothan Martial Academy and was accepted.

  She did very well there, and her family is very proud of her

  accomplishments, but they wonder when she will abandon

  what they see as adventurism and get a real career."

  Gavin's smile returned to his face. "I doubt that will

  happen very soon. Asyr seems very at home in the squad-

  ron."

  "Don't underestimate the pull of the Bothan family

  structure. Their families are very tightly bound together."

  "Nothing wrong with that."

  Herrit nodded, then looked toward his wife and paled.

  Gavin followed his gaze and saw a trio of male Bothans

  approaching them. The leader stood as tall as Gavin, though

  he did not have Gavin's bulk. Creamy white fur and golden

  eyes contrasted with the black uniform he wore. His subordi-

  nates wore similar uniforms, but their fur was a motley riot

  of orange and black.

  The lead Bothan stopped right in front of Gavin, but did

  not offer a hand in greeting. "I am Karka Kre'fey, grandson

  of General Laryn Kre'fey. You were with Rogue Squadron at

  Borleias?"

  "I was." Setting his ale on the bar, Gavin aped Karka's

  stance by grasping his hands together at the small of his

  back. "Is there something I can do for you?"

  "Reports on the assault suggest my grandfather was

  poorly prepared for the assault and made foolish decisions in

  the battle."

  "And?"

  The Bothan's golden eyes burned with anger. "I would

  know if you feel these reports are correct."

  Gavin ignored the gasp from Herrit. "In my opinion,

  they are."

  Karka's open-handed slap arrived with no warning and

  caught Gavin over the left cheek, snapping his head around.

  Gavin staggered back a step, but the bar kept him from going

  down. He grabbed onto it with his hands, then straightened

  up slowly. He wanted to shake his head to kill the ringing in

  his ears, but he stopped himself and instead looked Karka

  hard in the eyes.

  "I understand your being upset over your grandfather's

  death."

  "I am upset because you have besmirched his honor."

  "Be that as it may, don't slap me again."

  "Or?"

  Herrit stepped forward. "Please, let's not have an alter-

  cation here."

  Gavin reached out and grabbed Herrit by the back of the

  neck. He directed the diplomat back to his place at the bar.

  "We're not going to have a fight, sir."

  Karka's lip curled back in a snarl. "You have sullied the

  honor of the Kre'fey family. I challenge you to a duel."

  Gavin shook his head slowly. "No."

  "You refuse to accept?"

  "I will not fight you."

  "Then you are a coward."

  Gavin laughed aloud. Just a year previous he would

  have leaped on Karka and done his best to pummel him, but

  his time with Rogue Squadron had changed him so that was

  not an option. Actually, it is an option, but not one I'm

  compelled to choose. In the last year Wedge and Corran and

  even Tycho had impressed upon him the fact that what oth-

  ers thought and said didn't matter---it was the person inside

  and what he thought of himself that mattered. That's what

  allows Tycho to endure everything he's going through. He's

  got a quiet kind of courage that doesn't require boasts and

  defenses because it's the courage that kicks in when it's really

  needed.

  While part of him still wanted to know the satisfaction

  of using his fist to disassociate Karka's teeth from their sock-

  ets, another part of him reveled in his freedom to ignore the

  challenge. Because he would not allow himself to be aroused

  by the Bothan's taunts, those taunts had no power. They

  became pitiful in their efforts, and transparent. And ignoring

  them hurts Karka more than any physical damage I could

  inflict upon him.

  Gavin met Karka's molten stare. "Call me a coward if

  you wish, I don't care. You are not my enemy. My enemy is

  the Empire and its remnants. Maybe you can't see that. Your

  grandfather could. Strikes me that you honor his memory

  more by continuing his crusade than in trying to hide mis-

  takes he may have made." He extended his right hand

  toward the Bothan.

  Karka stared at it as if it were a snake, then snarled and

  spun on his heel. His subordinates fell into step with him,

  prompting a sigh of relief from Herrit as they departed.

  The bartender plopped a fresh 1omin-ale on the bar for

  Gavin. "To your health, sir."

  Herrit clinked his lum mug against the glass. "You han-

  dled that well. Sorry I got in your way."

  "No blood, no report." Gavin worked his jaw around

  and heard it pop. "I'll be feeling that tomorrow."

  Asyr appeared at his side. "What happened?"

  Gavin shrugged. "Nothing, really."

  Herrit smiled. "Just a couple of boys getting some exer-

  cise."

  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 excite-

  ment tonight."

  The fact that Borsk Fey'lya was nowhere to be seen heart-

  ened 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 apart-

  ments 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 move-

  ment being caused by the air conditioning, though it did

  suggest the windows behind the drapes were open. The car-

  peting 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. "l must compli-

  ment 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 neces-

  sary." Mon Mothma waved Ackbar to a floating chair fash-

  ioned 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 accom-

  pli."

  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 ! 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 Em-

  pire."

  "I have ridden the crest of that wave myself, Mon

  Mothma. Being a rebellion was much more simple than be-

  ing 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 begin-

  ning to spread a bit more quickly than we projected when we

  got the bacta from Warlord Zsinj. People are balancingtheir

  fear of the disease against their fear of being at ground zero

  of a terrorist attack. Black market prices for bacta are begin-

  ning 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 marke-

  teers?"

  "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 peo-

  ple 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 con-

  tinuation 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 Em-

  pire--the pace of discovery is remarkable. The trial is mov-

  ing 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. "1 was being facetious.

  It was a joke."

  Cr
acken laughed, but Mon Mothma just smiled. "For-

  give 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 sol-

  emnly. "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