Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy Trilogy 02_ Dark Apprentice - Kevin J. Anderson [29]
He looked up at the sound of shuffling footsteps and saw another Calamarian approaching tentatively down the rose-hued corridors. The other ducked his head, but swiveled his great fish eyes up to look at his admiral.
“Terpfen,” Ackbar said. His voice sounded listless, like words dropped onto the polished floor, but he tried to dredge up enthusiasm. “You’ve come after all.”
“I could never desert you, Admiral. The Calamarian crewmen remain your firm supporters, even after.…”
Ackbar nodded, knowing the unshakable loyalty of his chief starship mechanic. As with many of his people, Terpfen had been taken away from his watery homeworld, kidnapped by Imperial enslavers, and forced to work on designing and refining their Star Destroyers with the renowned Calamarian starship-building expertise. But Terpfen had attempted sabotage and had been tortured. Severely. The scars still showed on his battered head.
During the Imperial occupation of the planet Calamari, Ackbar himself had been pressed into service as a reluctant aid to Moff Tarkin. He had served Tarkin for several years until he finally escaped during a Rebel attack.
“Have you completed your investigation?” Ackbar asked. “Have you gone over the records that survived the crash?”
Terpfen turned his head away. He clasped his broad flipper-hands together. His skin flushed with splotches of bright maroon, showing his embarrassment and shame. “I have already filed my report with the New Republic Council.” He looked meaningfully at the closed door of the chamber. “I suspect they are discussing it even now.”
Ackbar felt as if he had just attempted to swim under an ice floe. “And what did you find?” he said in a firm voice, trying to resurrect the power of command.
“I found no indication of mechanical failure, Admiral. I’ve gone over the crash tapes again and again, and I have simulated the flight path through the recorded wind patterns on Vortex. I continue to come up with the same answer. Nothing was wrong with your ship.” He looked up at the admiral then turned away again. Ackbar could tell that this report was as difficult for Terpfen to say as it was for Ackbar to hear.
“I checked your ship myself before you took off for Vortex. I found no indications of mechanical instabilities. I suppose I could have missed something.…”
Ackbar shook his head. “Not you, Terpfen. I know your work too well.”
Terpfen continued in a quieter voice. “I can reach only one conclusion from the data, Admiral—” But Terpfen’s voice cut off, as if he refused to speak the inevitable.
Ackbar did it for him. “Pilot error,” he said. “I caused the crash. It’s my fault. I’ve known it all along.”
Terpfen stood; his head hung so low that he showed only the bulging, sacklike dome of his cranium. “I wish there was some way I could prove otherwise, Admiral.”
Ackbar extended a flipper-hand and placed it on Terpfen’s gray crewman’s uniform. “I know you’ve done your best. Now please do me one more favor. Outfit another B-wing for my personal use and provision it for a long journey. I’ll be flying alone.”
“Someone might object to having you fly again, Admiral,” Terpfen said, “but don’t worry. I can find some way around the problem. Where will you be going?”
“Home,” Ackbar answered, “after I tend to some unfinished business.”
Terpfen saluted smartly. “Your ship will be waiting for you, sir.”
Ackbar felt a hard knot in his chest as he returned the salute. He stepped forward to the closed steelstone door and pounded on the ornate surface, demanding to be let in.
The heavy door groaned open on automatic hinges. Ackbar stood at the threshold as the members of the ruling Council turned to look at him.
The flowstone seats were sculpted and polished