Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 02_ Shield of Lies - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [58]
But he found himself with reason now.
So far, it seemed, his contribution to the expedition had been modest to the point of invisibility. Luke was completely dependent on Akanah for information, and it was difficult to see what she needed from him. Companionship, perhaps, and a bit of piloting, but not protection—she was emphatic about that.
She had offered him a gift of great value by coming to him, and had gone to some lengths to do so. Luke felt himself not only uncomfortably dependent, but also involuntarily in her debt. And he had little to offer to right the balance.
But the lead on Star Morning gave him an opportunity to make himself more useful.
If asked, he would have said that suspicion had no part in his decision to contact the New Republic Ship Registry under his military access code. Even though Akanah had plucked their next destination from the Current, a great deal of time had passed since the Fallanassi had left Kell Plath. The prospect of another Griann causing them to lose the trail was reason enough to follow up on his discovery.
Still, Luke waited until Akanah was asleep to open the hypercomm link, and his reason for doing that wasn’t entirely clear to him. True, he didn’t want her to think he was checking up on her. But Luke was also aware that he didn’t want to think he was checking up on her. He had to be able to trust her. Everything he had done, his very presence, was predicated on that.
“Ship Registry.”
The Adventurer had no secure-entry touchpad, so Luke had to offer the voice codes.
“Authorization verified,” said the registry clerk. “Go ahead.”
“I need a report pulled on a private vessel.”
“Yes, sir. Quick or comprehensive?”
“The difference is—”
“The comprehensive includes everything that’s in all of the linked databases—taxes, transfers, ports of call, whatever we have. On anything but a brand-new ship, that can be quite a bit.”
“Comprehensive,” Luke said. “The ship is the Star Morning, Teyr registry, owned by—”
“I have it on my display, sir,” said the clerk. “It takes up to an hour to pull a comprehensive. Would you like it forwarded to your current hypercomm identifier when it’s ready, or held here for your next call?”
“Forward it,” Luke said.
“Very well, sir. Is there anything else?”
Luke looked back over his shoulder and extended his senses to confirm that Akanah was asleep. “Yes,” he said on impulse. “I’d like a comprehensive pulled on a skiff, a Verpine Adventurer, registration number NR80-109399, no name currently profiled, owner and home port unknown—”
“I have it, sir. Would you like this report forwarded with the other?”
“No,” Luke said. “Hold this one for me.”
“Very well, sir. Is there anything else?”
“No.”
“Clear to close link.”
“Closing link,” Luke said, and reached for the controls.
Then he wondered why what he had just done made him feel so unclean.
Akanah’s nap lasted more than three hours, but the report from Ship Registry had not yet arrived when she stirred. She said nothing to him when she emerged from the sleeper, disappearing for several minutes behind the privacy screen of the refresher unit.
When she emerged, she had forgone the more flowing, multilayered garment she had worn on the planet for the simple, close-fitting, long-sleeved one-piece she had worn for much of the jump to Teyr. When she joined him at the flight controls, he caught the faint scent of the freshener cabinet on her clothing. “So, have we a shadow?”
“None clumsy enough to give itself away yet, anyway,” Luke said. “There are eighteen ships—make that nineteen, now—in this outbound corridor. In theory they’re all heading for the Foless Crossroads, or for Darepp.”
“In theory?”
“Under free-navigation rules, they don’t have to file flight plans and announce their destinations—they just have to announce themselves as they leave here and when they get there.”
Akanah leaned forward to study the navigational display. “How did