Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy_ Champions of the Force - Kevin J. Anderson [122]
Rogue Squadron had gone to ground to wait on several of the larger asteroids in the K’vath system. This location put us in close proximity to K’vath 5’s primary moon, Alakatha. We powered down our engines and had our sensors in passive mode only to avoid detection by the folks we wanted to trap. According to our mission briefing, New Republic Intelligence had gotten a tip they considered reliable that at least part of Leonia Tavira’s pirate fleet would be hitting a luxury liner coming out of the resort coast on Alakatha’s northern continent. Mirax and I had actually honeymooned there three years ago, before Thrawn turned the New Republic inside-out, so I had fond memories of the place and could well remember the wealth dripping in jewels and precious metals from the throats and hands of the New Republic’s elite.
I glanced at my X-wing’s chronometer. “The Glitterstar is still on schedule?”
Whistler, nestled behind my cockpit, hooted with just a hint of derision in his voice.
“Yes, I know I told you to let me know if there was a change and, no, I didn’t think it had slipped your circuits.” I forced my gloved hands open, then rotated my wrists to get rid of some of the tension. “I’m just anxious.”
He blatted a quick comment at me.
“Hey, just because patience is a virtue, that doesn’t make impatience a vice.” I sighed and turned the latter half of it into a piece of a Jedi breathing exercise Luke Skywalker had urged upon me when trying to recruit me as a Jedi. Breathing in through my nose to a count of four, I held the breath for a seven count, then exhaled in eight beats. With each breath I let more tension flow out of me. I sought the clarity of mind I’d need for the coming battle—if the Invids materialized—but it eluded me with the ease the Invids had shown in escaping the New Republic.
Things kept seeming to happen fast. Mirax and I married fast, and while I did not at all regret having done so, events conspired to make our married life extremely difficult. Grand Admiral Thrawn and his antics ruined our first anniversary, and rescuing Jan Dodonna and the others who had once been imprisoned with me on the Lusankya had called me away during the second. And then the reborn Emperor’s assault on Coruscant dropped a Star Destroyer on what had been our home. Neither of us were there at the time, which was standard operating procedure far too often.
In fact, the only benefit of being assigned to go after the Invids was that their leader, ex-Moff Leonia Tavira, seemed to have a taste for a life of leisure. When her Invidious vanished between raids, we usually had a week of down time before having to worry about another attack. Mirax and I put this free time to good use, rebuilding our home and our relationship, but with that came some consequences that I saw as incredibly disruptive—on the scale of Thrawn disruptive.
Mirax decided she wanted children.
I have nothing against kids—as long as they go home with their parents at the end of the day. Expressing this opinion in those terms to Mirax was not the smartest thing I had ever done and, in fact, proved to be one of the more painful ones. The hurt and pain in her eyes haunted me for a long time. Deep down, I knew there would be no dissuading her, and I wasn’t even sure, in the end, I wanted to.
I did try, however, and employed most of the standard arguments to do so. The “this is an unsettled time in the galaxy” ploy lost out to the fact that our parents had faced a similar choice and we’d turned out pretty well. The “uncertainty of my job” argument wilted beneath the logic of my life insurance and then withered away when Mirax gave me a glimpse at the accounts files—the real ones—for her import/export business. She pointed out that she could easily support the three or four of us and I’d not have to work a single