Star Wars: X-Wing I: Rogue Squadron (28 page)

“Yeah, probably better than you think.”

She blinked her eyes, then smiled. “You feel it, too?”

“I’ve felt it.” Corran sighed. “A huge hunk of what you’re feeling comes from the downside of the emotional spike you hit during the run. I know what that’s like. In CorSec I was partnered with a woman, Iella Wessiri. She was pretty—not as pretty as you are, but no Gamorrean either. We raided a glitterstim dealer’s warehouse and a rather nasty lightfight erupted. One guy had me centered in his sights when she took him out. I’d thought I was dead and she saved me.

“In the immediate aftermath of that I thought I was in love with her—or in lust, at least. Before then
we’d just been friends, like you and I are. Maybe there were some core sparks of something but nothing we’d noticed or acted on. And that night, well, we both felt it.”

“What happened?”

Corran scowled. “The Imperial liaison officer took the two of us into custody for debriefing. Two days later we saw each other again. The heat of the moment had passed and we laughed about it, but never did anything. That fear, and having been so closely brushed by death, made us want something positive to counteract it.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad, Erisi.” Corran shifted around so he sat beside her and held both of her hands in his. “It’s also not genuine. And, I must admit, I’m not sure about the wisdom of getting involved with someone inside the unit.”

“Rhysati and Nawara don’t seem to have trouble with it.”

“I know, and I think they’re good for each other.”

Erisi raised his right hand to her mouth and kissed his palm. “I think you may be right, Corran, but I need to ask you something. You said you and your partner had sparks at some basic level, and that led to your attraction to her. Do we have those sparks?”

“Perhaps, I don’t know.” Feeling uncomfortably warm, Corran tugged at the collar of his flight suit. “For the past several years, both before and since leaving CorSec, my emotional life has been a bit unstable.”

“Is there someone else? Do you still care for your partner?”

“No, there’s no one else, not Iella, not anyone.”

Erisi pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded.
“I accept what you’re saying.” She stood and stretched languorously. “Of course, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

Corran let out a deep breath, then rose from his bunk. “I wish I didn’t. Right now, though, I’m exhausted enough that I’d be no good to either one of us.”

She laughed and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Corran, I really
do
appreciate your concerns over my feelings.” Erisi backed away from him toward the opening hatchway. “Have sweet dreams.”

She turned in the open hatchway and came face-to-face with Mirax Terrik. The smuggler’s daughter smiled politely. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize I was intruding.”

“Not at all, Miss Terrik.” All the warmth drained from Erisi’s voice. “I was just leaving so Lieutenant Horn could get some rest. He’s confined to quarters and I don’t believe that order allows
civilian
visitors.”

Mirax tapped the datapad riding in a sheath on her left forearm. “I have permission to visit from his commanding officer. We can check with Emtrey if you wish.”

Erisi looked back at Corran and he would have preferred being under the
Ravager’
s guns again to her stare. “It’s okay, Erisi. I’m sure Miss Terrik won’t be staying long. Thanks for the talk.”

“You’re most welcome, Lieutenant.” Erisi turned and nodded curtly to Mirax. “Miss Terrik.”

“Later.” Mirax watched Erisi walk away, then added under her breath, “
Much
later.” Turning back around she caught Corran staring after Erisi. “Flyboys—all you think about is sex.”

“What?”

She shoved the plastic case she was carrying into
his stomach none too gently, then walked past him into the cabin. “The smallest smuggling hold on the
Skate
is bigger than this.”

“The
Reprieve
wasn’t built for pleasure cruising or smuggling. I’m looking forward to grounding at a new base.” Corran stepped back out of the hatchway and let it close. Hefting the box he asked, “What’s this?”

Mirax flopped down on Ooryl’s bed. “Wedge said you might be down—but then he didn’t realize the bacta queen would be here. I figured you might like some stuff from home so I got this little package together.” She shrugged. “I intended it as something of a peace offering, I guess.”

Corran sat on the edge of his bed and undid the case’s two latches. He opened the box and smiled. In it he saw a half-dozen datacard issues of magazines from Corellia, as well as two tins of spicy, smoked nerf and a bottle of Whyren’s Reserve whiskey.

“Wow. This is more stuff from Corellia than I’ve seen in the past two years.”

Mirax rolled up on her right side and rested her head on her right hand. “Below the whiskey is a
ryshcate
. I had to substitute some ingredients but I think it turned out pretty good.”

Corran pulled the whiskey bottle out of the case and set it down beside him. Beneath it, wrapped in clear plastic, sat the dark brown sweetcake that was traditionally reserved for birthdays, anniversaries, or other celebrations of momentous occasions. “Last time I had
ryshcate
was after my father died, after the funeral. Where’d you find the
vweliu
nuts to put into it?”

“Around.”

“Around?”

“Yeah, around. There’s a thriving black market in Corellian goods out there. A lot of us are out here
and with the Diktat in place the Imps still control our space. This means we have a big demand with a restricted supply, so it pays to move the merchandise.” She scowled at the hatch. “That blasted protocol droid of yours has—er, had—two
cases
of Corellian whiskey and has been doling it out to me in one and two bottle lots. I could have gotten an old Customs ship to replace the one that got left in that lake in the Hensara system for the whole case, but he’s holding back on me. Getting two bottles out of him cost me a hyperdrive horizontal booster and a case of l’lahsh mixes that came from Alderaan before it died.”

Corran raised an eyebrow. “Emtrey had the whiskey?”

“I got two bottles from him. One’s beside you and one’s in the
ryshcate
.” She sat up and their knees almost touched. “You going to arrest the droid for smuggling?”

“No, just let him off with a warning, I guess.” The fighter pilot smiled. “Do you want some of the
ryshcate
? You made it, so you should have some of it.”

She hesitated, then nodded her head. “A small piece, but only if we can think of a reason to celebrate.”

“How about being alive?”

“Good enough for me.”

Corran punctured the plastic wrap with his thumb and broke a corner off the moist, flat cake. He split it in two and handed her the larger of the pieces. In keeping with the tradition he said, “We share this
ryshcate
in the same way we share our celebration of life.”

“To the celebration of life.”

They each bit into the cake and Corran clumsily caught crumbs in his left hand. The cake itself was
delicious. The sweetness softened the woody bite of the whiskey, and the
vweliu
nuts just melted in his mouth. He swallowed and smiled. “This is wonderful!”

“Even if it was made from smuggled ingredients?”

“Even more reason to eat all the evidence.” He shook his head. “As a peace offering, I can’t think of anything better.”

“Good.” Mirax stood and ruffled his brown hair with her hand. “When this Alliance finally gets around to going after Coruscant, I’ll make another
ryshcate
and you can carry it to whoever thinks they’re in charge. Make the war shorter.”

“This
ryshcate
might have been able to turn Darth Vader into a Jedi again, but I’m not sure it would work on old Iceheart.” He set the case on the bed. “Sure you don’t want more?”

“Thanks, but I need to go back to the
Skate.
” She looked at her datapad. “I have about six hours until I pull a run Coreward.”

“Are we going to fly cover for you?”

“Nope, I’m using my wits and guts to get me through.”

Corran frowned. “No slight intended, but isn’t that dangerous?”

Mirax shook her head. “I’ve been ambushed
once
and you Rogues have been ambushed
twice
. Right now I suspect traveling without you might be a bit safer than traveling with you, but this is a simple run anyway.” She kissed him on the cheek as the hatch opened. “Thanks for your concern. See you when I get back.”

The hatch eclipsed her as it closed. It struck him that while he had been relieved when Erisi left, he wished Mirax had stayed. He knew he didn’t lust after her—though she didn’t surrender much, if anything
at all, to Erisi in the way of looks. With her, because of their common world of origin, he had a connection that he and Erisi would never share. Even the fact that their fathers had been enemies somehow strengthened the bond between them.

He shook himself. “Snap out of it, Horn. You’re fixing on her the way Erisi fixed on you. Booster Terrik’s daughter and Hal Horn’s son might be able to be friendly enemies—maybe even friends—but nothing more than that. Remember, first, last, and always, she’s a smuggler. There’ll come a point when you’re not cost effective and she’ll cut her losses.”

He heard his words and knew there was a lot of truth in them. He also heard a lot of his father in them, and that gave him pause. He popped the other half of his piece of
ryshcate
into his mouth.
There are better things to do with my mouth than give voice to speculations that dishonor her gift. We
can
be friends and
will
be friends. Out here, with the Empire cutting us off from our home, what we have in common is more important than any differences that might drive us apart
.

Wedge’s feelings about the briefing on
Home One
had started bad and quickly went to worse. It hadn’t helped that he had no time to pull Admiral Ackbar and General Salm aside to work out some sort of compromise on Corran’s case.
Leaving him hanging is more of a disservice than disciplining him
. Given the Admiral’s apparent distraction with the briefing, Wedge assumed he would get no chance to make a case in support of Corran.

Though he was a Commander, he was the most junior officer in attendance at the meeting. He recognized several people besides Admiral Ackbar and General Salm but by no means knew who all those in attendance were. He noticed a knot of four Bothans—a General, two Colonels, and one Commander—up toward the front of the room, but could not name any of them. Clearly, though, they were in charge of the briefing—a point made abundantly clear when the junior officers moved through the room, downloading information from their datapads into those of the other officers.

The Bothan General took the podium at the
front of the room and the lights above his audience dimmed. The Bothan’s white fur became almost dazzling and his golden eyes appeared to be made of liquid metal. Wearing an Alliance Army uniform and clutching a telescoping silver pointer in both hands at the small of his back, he began speaking in a soft voice that did not lack for intensity.

“I am General Laryn Kre’fey and I am now going to brief you on the mission that will open the way to Coruscant for our valiant forces. If you will look to your datapads, you will see the basics on the installation we are to hit. You do not need to know where it is right now, but suffice it to say possession of this base is the key to the Imperial Core.”

Wedge did his best to follow the briefing. The world—codename Blackmoon—was normal and habitable, not unlike Endor save that it had no native lifeforms akin to the Ewoks. Initial survey teams, sent out under the Old Republic, had rated the world poor in mineral or otherwise exploitable wealth. A small base had been created there because the system proved useful as a plotting point for runs to the Corporate sector and beyond, but being a crossroads in space was insufficient to spur much growth and commerce. Other than some experimental attempts at development—all of which failed when exotic research no longer earned generous investment tax credits under the Empire, the world was left largely alone.

“The Empire did expand the base and provide force shield projectors but only so the Rebellion would not find it an inviting target for transition into a sanctuary so close to the Core.” General Kre’fey gestured with an open hand. “The base also supports four heavy ion cannons and has two squadrons of TIE fighters available to it.”

Wedge frowned. The defenses struck him as
odd—too much for an out-of-the-way world, but too little for a world that would put them perilously close to Coruscant. Vladet, a sector headquarters, had only had four TIEs on the ground, two ion cannons, and a set of shields, but not enough power to bring both cannons and shields on-line at the same time. Wedge didn’t get the feeling that Blackmoon was some sort of Imperial trap, but he did think it was tough enough that the Imps on the ground might be able to summon help from other worlds nearby and hold on until it arrived.

The Bothan General went on and described his proposed mode of attack. It consisted of using the
Emancipator
—one of two Imperial Star Destroyers that had been captured at Endor and repaired by the Alliance—to batter down the shields. General Salm’s Defender Wing would then go in to pound the Imperial facilities and defenses, with Rogue Squadron keeping the TIEs away from the bombers. Once ground resistance had been weakened, troop transports would land Alliance troops and complete the conquest of the world.

General Kre’fey concluded, “I expect to be operational in two weeks, with conquest completed within fifteen standard days from now.”

General Salm looked past Wedge to Admiral Ackbar. “This plan is already approved?”

Ackbar, who had a silver Mon Calamari Admiral—Ragab of the
Emancipator
—on his other side, wore a pained expression on his face. “Yes, General Salm, this plan …”

Kre’fey interrupted him. “Forgive me, Admiral Ackbar, but I believe I can answer that question myself.” The Bothan brushed the white fur on his face with his left hand, bringing the fur down to a point at his chin. “Yes, General, the Provisional Council
has approved this plan. Would you be objecting to their exercise of wisdom in this matter?”