Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [151]
“Some of them were scornful. Some of them were regretful. But they’d heard his comm traffic. It was him, he’d lost control, he’d left his honor behind in his thruster wash, and he died. And I’ve inherited whatever he had.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to get you or any of the Wraiths killed. I’m going to resign my commission.”
Tyria was a long time in answering. Finally she spoke, her voice low, serious. “Do you trust me, Kell?”
“Sure.”
“With your life?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Will you trust me with something bigger than your life?”
“What?”
“I want you to trust me that you are wrong and I am right.”
“No.”
“Then you don’t rank my opinion as equal to your own. My insights. My intelligence.”
“Sure I do. But I know myself better than you do.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t, and that’s the problem. You’ve told me twice now that for years you’ve based your life on ideas that were just plain wrong. That your father didn’t do what he did. That Lieutenant Janson was a cold-blooded killer. You were wrong about them. You’ve had the courage to admit it. You also had the courage to admit that you weren’t really in love with me before, that you were wrong about that, too.”
He didn’t answer.
“I want you to have the courage to trust my opinion more than your own. Kell, maybe it’s because part of you wants to get out of every fight, but you’re always thinking your way around the current situation, and that’s a good thing. Everyone who was on the Borleias will agree with me on that. And that’s why I know I’m safer with you flying with us.”
He didn’t answer.
“Kell, please.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, cutting off her loving, merciless stare. “All right.”
· · ·
They dropped out of hyperspace in the system that was Admiral Trigit’s original rendezvous point. As they expected, Implacable was not there. From that system, they broadcast to Zsinj Captain Darillian’s report of the New Republic ambush, of Trigit’s “treachery” in abandoning them, of the set of brilliant maneuvers that brought them out of the ambush zone battered but alive.
Their next jump was to the Obinipor system, deeper in the Outer Rim but still in the path of the New Republic’s gradual expansion. Obinipor, the next stop on Night Caller’s circuit, was a free colony with an admirable mix of natural resources: metals suited to the fabrication of power generators, and active vulcanism providing the colonists with ready power of their own. Their orders were to take two TIE fighters and buzz the largest set of corporate headquarters, much as they had on the world of Viamarr.
As soon as they made their initial drop to normal space they queried Obinipor with a coded transmission on New Republic frequencies and soon received the compressed, encrypted data package from the Intelligence team already in place.
Before they had a chance to decompress and study it, Night Caller received a transmission on the HoloNet.
Face took his seat in the comm center and punched up onto the main monitor the new view of himself. With the modifications Grinder had made, it now showed him seated at a much less ostentatious command chair in the ship’s auxiliary bridge. He glanced at Wedge waiting in the doorway. “I’m betting Zsinj.”
Wedge shook his head. “It’s Trigit. Zsinj will have contacted the admiral for his side of the story before getting back in touch with us.”
“Ten credits?”
“You’re on.”
Face shrugged, then activated the link.
Admiral Trigit’s hologram swam into coherence.
Face half rose from his chair. “You! I cannot believe you have the sheer, poisonous gall to contact me after that, that betrayal—”
Trigit held up a hand. “Please, Captain. As soon as we realized it was a trap, we had to choose from among several tactics, none of which could please everyone.”
“Please everyone? Admiral, you salted us and hung us out to dry! If I hadn’t been in the comm center, receiving your rather redundant message telling us it was a trap, I’d be