• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Gavin Darklighter cleared his throat and rapped gently on the doorjamp of Commander Antilles’s office. “Excuse me, sir.”

Wedge looked up from his desk, a bit haggard and bleary-eyed. “What can I do for you, Gavin?”

“I’d like to speak to you if I might. In private, sir.”

Wedge straightened up in his chair, then nodded and waved Gavin to the seat in front of the desk. A couple of keystrokes killed the holographic lists of numbers hanging in the air above Wedge’s holopad. They looked like quartermaster reports to Gavin, but he couldn’t be certain, since he was reading them from the back side of the hologram.

“What is it, Gavin?”

How to begin? Gavin seated himself, then looked down at his hands. “Ah, sir, we, the squadron that is, have been discussing the situation at Alderaan. It was really pretty bad. I mean, those of us in Two flight got to see it a second time when we went to get the TIE pilots, and the destruction seemed even worse than we’d thought.”

Wedge nodded and rubbed his eyes. “I know. I helped edit and narrate the government’s report on the ambush. Warlord Zsinj’s Iron Fist did a first-class job of ripping the convoy up from one end to the other.”

Gavin frowned. “When I talked to the others, they said you’ve been pretty quiet about all that—about Mirax dying and all. I mean, I didn’t know her nearly as well as you did, of course. I got to know her on the run into Coruscant when we came in secret, and I liked her. Not romantically, you know—not that there was anything wrong with her, but even I could see she was interested in Corran. Anyway, I remember you coming to talk to me about Lujayne Forge when the Imps killed her, and how much it helped and I thought—”

“You thought it would help me to let my grief show?”

“Well, your best friends aren’t here for you. Captain Celchu is in jail, Princess Leia has dropped out of sight, and you and Mirax were close, so …”

Wedge smiled and signed, then leaned back in his chair. “I appreciate this, Gavin, more than you know. I guess, with Mirax, I’m still in shock. There was no trace of her or the Pulsar Skate, so part of me wants to believe she had an astro-gation error and jumped someplace else, that she wasn’t there at all.”

“I think we’d all like to believe that, sir.”

“It’s ridiculous, of course, but that’s part of the reason I’m not ready to let her go, you know.” Wedge frowned. “It seems as if everyone I know, all the friends I make, are getting ground up by the Empire or some malignant little offshoot of it. Fighting against the Death Stars—well, someone dying there somehow had meaning. The convoy, though, they were just bringing bacta to a sick world. Even though their deaths have catalyzed the Provisional Council into making a decision concerning Warlord Zsinj, their lives were wasted, and I guess I’m tired of that sort of waste.”

Gavin looked up. “We’re going after Zsinj?”

Wedge tapped his datapad. “I was going over information concerning our supplies for deployment against him. I don’t know many details, and couldn’t tell you any of them if I did, but this convoy hit has made Zsinj a big target. Admiral Ackbar wants this data rather quickly, so I really should get back to it.”

“If you say so, sir.”

Wedge leaned forward on his elbows. “Look, Gavin, I appreciate your coming here and talking to me about Mirax. I don’t think I’m ready to go into this all the way right now, but I’m coping. It hurts, but I’m coping.”

Gavin nodded. “Yes, sir.” Walling it away just delays things. “If you ever decide you want someone to talk to—”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Wedge smiled and sketched Gavin a brief salute. “Go get yourself some rest—and that goes for the rest of the squadron. If we’re going to be going after Zsinj, I want us ready to move as fast as possible.”

Borsk Fey’lya stood behind his desk and smoothed the creamy fur around his face. “Please, Asyr Sei’lar, do come in. I am honored that Rogue Squadron’s newest ace has time to