Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [89]
Brakiss peered imperiously at me. “What about the rest of us?”
“I don’t know. Do what you’re able to do. Help Cilghal. Make food. Meditate.”
The slender man frowned. “Meditate? Hardly helpful in this situation, wouldn’t you say?”
Kam shook his head vehemently. “We need to avoid panic and keep our wits about us. We should practice what we have learned so far, strengthening ourselves. If Kyp returns, if another problem arises, we need to be able to deal with it.” His head came up. “I’ll expect everyone who isn’t assigned other duties to meet for exercises as usual.”
“It’s a plan.” I gave Kam a nod. “And a good one. Everyone clear? Good. Go to it.”
I descended to the communications center and powered up the system. Luke’s R2 unit stood faithfully by to help me, but his anxiety kept him bouncing from tread to tread. His whistles took on a pinched tone, reminding me of Whistler when he really wanted to have his gears lubed.
“Go, Artoo, having you near him will make Master Skywalker feel a lot better, I’m certain. And you can monitor lifesigns better than any of the rest of us.” I smiled as the droid raced from the comm center. I wasn’t certain I wanted him around while I worked anyway.
I tried first to reach Wedge, but could only leave a message in his personal holocache. Next I tried Tycho and managed to get him at Squadron Headquarters.
He gave me a big smile. “Didn’t expect to be hearing from you for a while. How is the training going?”
I shook my head and his smile atrophied. “We just took a big hit. Luke Skywalker is down.”
“Down?”
“Hurt, but we don’t know how badly. We can only guess what happened and it’s not good. Luke’s stable right now, and we hope he’ll recover, but we’re going to need a full medical team out here as fast as possible.”
Tycho glanced out of the holograph’s frame, then nodded. “I’ve got a shuttle fueling and preflighting right now. I’ll alert a med team and fly it out myself.”
“Good. I also have a list of other things I want you to bring.”
“Whatever you need.”
“Could be tough to get.” I paused for a moment. “I need enough nergon 14 charges to level something like the Great Temple here.”
Tycho sat back and blinked away some surprise. “Are things that drastic?”
“Could be. I hope what I think might be happening isn’t actually going on here, but if it is, I might need to take down a temple to act as a circuit breaker.” I lowered my voice. “I need the crates mislabeled, too. I don’t know that I can trust everyone here.…”
“So you can’t really trust anyone but yourself.”
“That’s pretty much it.”
Tycho looked at me, then slowly nodded. “I trust you know what you’re doing.”
“I think so.” I ran my hands back through my hair. “Last thing, I need you to put me through to General Cracken. It is vital I speak to him.”
“Okay, I’ll do that now.” Tycho gave me a quick grin. “See you in the better part of thirty hours.”
“Thanks, Colonel.”
The Rogue Squadron crest hung in air above the comm unit’s holoprojection pad. It brought an unconscious smile to my face. I remembered when Gavin Darklighter had designed it, surrounding the Rebel crest with twelve X-wings streaking outward. For almost five years that insignia had helped define who I was. Now it helped remind me of where I came from, and another proud tradition that I was weaving into my new life.
Cracken’s face replaced it. “Colonel Celchu suggested you had something urgent for me.”
I nodded. “You remember that Sun Crusher you thought you’d taken care of by dumping it in the Yavin gas giant?”
“I don’t like the sound of that question, Captain.”
“Then you’re really going to hate the reason I’m asking it.” I set my face into an impassive mask. “Some time past midnight local time, person or persons unknown arrived on Yavin 4. They confronted Master Skywalker, defeated him, and departed again. They left behind a Z-95 Headhunter with the controls destroyed. Kyp Durron, one of the few, if only,