Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [8]
Loor finally felt the blast’s shockwave send a tremor through his tower. The hawk-bats flapped black wings to steady themselves, then dropped away from their perches. Wings snapped open, sending the creatures soaring into a slow spiral that would take them down to the blast site. Loor knew enough of them to know the hawk-bats would first look to see if the holes in the buildings revealed previously hidden granite slugs, but when deprived of their favorite prey, they would settle for the gobbets of flesh left behind by the victims.
“Good hunting,” he wished them, “eat your fill. Before I am done there will be more, much more for you to consume. I shall let you feast on my enemies, and together, here on a world they call their own, we shall both thrive.”
3
It seemed to Wedge that the mood of the Provisional Council was as dark as the room in which they met and as sour as the scent of bacta in the air. The dimly lit chamber had once been part of the Senatorial apartments Mon Mothma had called home before the Rebellion and her role in it forced her to go underground. It had been redecorated in garish reds and purples by Imperial agents, with green and gold trim on everything, but the paucity of light quelled the riot of color.
A desire to hide signs of Imperial occupation of the apartments was not the reason for keeping the room dim. Sian Tevv, the Sullustan member of the Provisional Council, had been exposed to the Krytos virus. While there was no evidence he had contracted the disease, he had undergone preventative bacta therapy and had some residual sensitivity to bright light. The Council made a concession to him by lowering the light, and another to the non-human members of the Council by circulating a light bacta mist through the air to prevent possible contagion. This increased humidity seemed to please no one, save perhaps Admiral Ackbar, but he looked grim for his own reasons.
Primarily because I’m actually here. Wedge knew his petition was doomed to fail—Borsk Fey’lya had said as much at the memorial ceremony, and various other councilors had repeated the warning in the two days since then, including Admiral Ackbar and Princess Leia Organa. In fact, Wedge knew, the only reason he was being given a chance to address the Council was because of his status as a liberator of Coruscant.
The Council had arranged three long tables in a half-hexagonal formation, with Mon Mothma in the middle, flanked by Princess Leia and Corellia’s Doman Beruss. Ackbar and Fey’lya anchored the far ends of the two angled tables. This left Wedge to stand in the open area before the Council, as if he were on trial. This is exactly what Tycho will face if I do not succeed here today; therefore, I must succeed.
Mon Mothma inclined her head toward him. “I need not introduce to you a man who has appeared before this Council previously and who has been so instrumental in the New Republic’s success. Because Commander Antilles may end up discussing highly sensitive material, this will be an executive session of the Provisional Council. Everything said here is confidential, and reporting of it will result in possible criminal charges.”
Doman Beruss smiled. “Ah, to have cases before we have a Judiciary, now that is civilization!”
Even Mon Mothma smiled at the remark, then set her face again into a mask of solemnity. “Please, Commander, speak your mind.”
Wedge took a deep breath, then began. “I have come here today to ask you to prevent a gross injustice from being enacted. Captain Tycho Celchu has been arrested and will be tried on murder and treason charges. The evidence against him—what little of it I know about—is circumstantial and weaker than the defenses Ysanne Isard left behind here. Tycho is a hero of the Rebellion. If not for his efforts, we would not be here right now, and I would be dead. The man he’s accused of killing is someone whose