• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“I am,” Pagorski confirmed. “It occurred shortly after the command rift developed between Admiral Niathal and Colonel Solo. Admiral Pellaeon announced that he was going to throw the Empire’s support behind Admiral Niathal, and Lieutenant Veila initiated an encrypted comm transmission to her superior.”

Leia frowned, and Han fidgeted in the seat beside her. From everything she had heard about the battle, no such communication had taken place. Apparently, Tahiri did not recall making the call, either, for she started to lean over to whisper a denial into Eramuth’s ear—but found him still napping. Clearly uncertain of what to do, she stopped and turned her attention forward again.

Dekkon continued to press his case. “Can you tell us what was discussed during that transmission?”

“I can. Lieutenant Veila reported Admiral Pellaeon’s decision and requested orders. Colonel Solo instructed her to change the admiral’s mind.”

Tahiri was leaning forward now, her green eyes narrowed and her scarred brow lowered. Leia knew the expression meant that Tahiri was simply trying to figure out why Pagorski was lying, but she wasn’t sure the jury would see it that way. To a jury, Tahiri’s posture might very well look like a fallen Jedi Knight—or former Sith apprentice—attempting to intimidate a witness.

“Did he instruct her to kill him?” Dekkon asked.

“No, quite the opposite,” she said. “Lieutenant Veila asked how far she should take matters, and Colonel Solo replied, ‘Don’t kill him. He’s too popular with the Imperial Navy.’ ”

A shocked murmur rolled through the courtroom, and the judge—a stately Falleen female with a finely scaled face and long hair worn in a topknot—hit a button on her bench. A sharp, piercing tone filled the chamber, immediately bringing the court to order, and the judge scowled out at the spectators for a moment before nodding to Dekkon to continue.

Dekkon spun toward Tahiri, his long shimmersilk robes swirling about his legs. “You’re saying Colonel Solo specifically ordered the defendant not to kill Admiral Pellaeon?”

Pagorski nodded. “I am.”

“And you’re certain it was Colonel Solo and the defendant you were hearing?” A puzzled frown flashed across Dekkon’s blocky blue face as his gaze fell on Eramuth’s dozing figure, but he quickly recovered and returned his stare to Tahiri. “It could not have been some other colonel and lieutenant discussing whether Admiral Pellaeon should be assassinated?”

“No, it was Colonel Solo and Lieutenant Veila,” Pagorski confirmed. “We were very certain of that.”

“How?”

Again, Pagorski smirked. “I’m sorry, Counselor, but you know I can’t reveal that.”

A fatherly smile came to Dekkon’s face. “Of course you can’t.” He turned to face Pagorski again and paused for a moment, no doubt considering how far he could test the limits of proper testimony while his foe was napping. After a moment, he seemed to decide that he needed to seize every advantage he could, and he asked, “So, why do you think Lieutenant Veila killed him?”

Pagorski turned her icy gaze on Tahiri. “Because she was ambitious.”

“Ambitious?”

“Admiral Pellaeon was a man with a durasteel will,” Pagorski explained. “And Lieutenant Veila was serving as an aide to one of the most ruthless leaders the galaxy has ever known. When the admiral refused to change his mind, I imagine she grew angry and frustrated with having to report her failure. She vented that anger by murdering a legend of the Imperial Navy.”

The courtroom broke into murmurs again. Han pressed against Leia’s shoulder, and the warm rasp of his whisper filled her ear.

“Where are the objections?” he demanded. “Even I know that last answer was conjecture!”

Leia laid a calming hand on her husband’s knee, then—knowing she would be ejected from the courtroom if she were caught—gave Eramuth a gentle Force nudge. The Bothan’s head rolled to one side, his muzzle opening just long enough to emit a loud, throaty snort.

A stunned silence descended over the courtroom for perhaps half a second, then the spectators