Star Wars_ X-Wing 04_ The Bacta War - Michael A. Stackpole [13]
She nodded slowly. “There are things I see or hear and I think, ‘Diric would like that or would be intrigued by that,’ then his death comes crashing back in on me. It seems to me that such things will never stop happening.”
“They won’t. They go on forever.”
A tremor shook Iella. “Great.”
“The thing of it is, Iella, they become transformed. Now you feel the loss and the grief, and part of that will always be there. In addition to it, though, shining through it will be the triumph of having known Diric. When I hear that stupid Lomin-ale ditty or eat part of a ryshcate, I remember my father. I remember his booming laugh and that secret smile of contentment he could flash you when things were good.”
“And the way that smile would carry on up into his eyes and how, with a slight shift, it would harden into something that would make the most fearless of Black Sunners begin to tremble in interrogation.” Iella gave out a little sigh. “I can see it with your father, but not Diric.”
“Not yet.”
“No, not yet.”
“But you will.” Corran kissed her forehead. “It won’t be easy, but the only way I got through it was because of you and Gil and my other friends.”
“You didn’t have any other friends.”
“Yeah, well, that may be, but you do. Mirax and Wedge and Winter and all of us, we’re here to help you. You’re not alone. We can’t feel the same depth of pain you do, but we can help you bear it.”
Iella nodded. “I appreciate that, I really do.” Her brows arrowed in toward each other as she concentrated. “I have decided I can’t remain here on Coruscant. The memories are mostly bad and overpowering. I have to get away—even if it means leaving all my friends.”
“I understand. I wanted to run after my father’s death, too.” Corran smiled. “The trick of it is, for you, that your running doesn’t mean you lose your friends.”
Iella’s eyes sharpened. “What do you mean?”
Corran looked around the Sanctuary, then lowered his voice into a whisper. “We’re leaving Coruscant, and we want you to come with us. You’re part of our family, part of the squadron. We’re going after the monster who warped Diric. We’re going to make sure she doesn’t do that to anyone else. We need you to come along and help us get her.”
Iella pulled back and sat up straight. “The odds against success are astronomical.”
“About the same as taking Coruscant from the Empire.”
Iella nodded coolly. “Odds are for those who want to minimize their own risks. I want to maximize Isard’s risks. Count me in.”
5
Brushing brown hair out of his eyes, Wedge looked up at the people seated in the small, amphitheater-style room and smiled. “I want to thank you all for showing up for this meeting. This is our first organizational meeting, but some decisions have already been made. They will stand unless they meet with overwhelming protest. No one should hesitate to voice a question or make a comment—this is going to be a bit more democratic than the squadron was, primarily because plans and orders are originating with us, not being passed down from above.”
Everyone nodded in assent with his remarks, so Wedge continued. “Corran Horn began this whole thing by resigning from Rogue Squadron first, but he’s agreed to let me lead this group. I’ve appointed Tycho Celchu as my second in command. Lady Winter is our Intelligence Officer as well as handling part of the Quartermaster duties. Mirax Terrik is handling the other half of those duties. Tycho will let you know what we’ve got in the way of supplies.”
Tycho turned around in his seat. “We have a fair number of credits—approximately seventeen million, give or take.”
Gavin laughed. “Seventeen million, I’ll take.”
“So would a lot of other folks, which is precisely what they want to do.” Tycho frowned. “Rumors of what happened at the reception, despite