Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [79]
Tyria didn’t immediately respond; she seemed to be concentrating on catching her breath. Phanan said, “Well, sir, we were discussing some fine points of a specific hand-to-hand combat takedown maneuver, and—”
Wedge looked as pained as if Phanan had stabbed him. “Flight Officer Phanan. How many times do you suppose I’ve heard that ‘We were discussing a boxing maneuver’ excuse?”
Phanan looked confused. “I, uh, don’t know, sir.”
“That was a rhetorical question, Phanan. Do not reenter this conversation.”
Pale where his skin could be seen under his skull prosthetic, Phanan shut up and stared off through the near wall.
Wedge dropped his voice. “Grinder, Tyria, come with me.”
In his ridiculously well-appointed office, with Janson beside him, Wedge glared at the two junior officers and asked, “Grinder, did you do anything to provoke this?”
If possible, the Bothan’s posture became even stiffer. “I didn’t think so initially, sir. But in jest I did offer to do something unethical for her. I suppose she may not have gotten the joke.”
“Tyria, did you ‘get the joke’?”
“I suppose I didn’t, sir.”
“Grinder, a good comedian adjusts his jokes for his audience. Watch Face and Phanan sometimes. They’re annoying, but proficient. Dismissed.”
Grinder saluted and made good his escape.
Wedge turned his full attention on Tyria. “It appears to me that your response was completely out of proportion to the offense.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Explain yourself.”
“I have no excuse, sir.”
“I’d like to help you here, Flight Officer Sarkin. Your record already has one notation for gross insubordination. It would be good not to make it worse.”
Tyria bit her lip. Wedge could tell that she recognized that his use of her full rank and name meant this discussion had reached a more official level. “Thank you, sir. But I have no excuse, sir.”
“Very well. Consider yourself on report. For the time being, your X-wing will be reassigned to Ton Phanan. Dismissed.”
For a moment she could not keep the dismay from her face. Then she recovered herself, saluted, and followed Grinder’s escape vector.
Wedge sighed. “Any ideas?”
Janson shook his head. “This really came out of the asteroid belt. I thought she was one of the most steady of them.”
“Me, too. Do me a favor and write up this incident report, would you? But keep the language flexible. I’d like to be able to monitor the situation and make adjustments to the report up until the time I have to file it.”
“Will do. You going to make her apologize?”
“No, I’m going to find out if she apologizes. A forced apology is worth nothing.”
“True.”
“How are things going with Tainer?”
Janson grimaced. “Worse than ever. And now I understand he’s received some demolitions components from Home One.”
“I told you, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“You also told me Tyria was one of the most steady of them.”
Wedge glared in mock anger. “You don’t want to get into a ‘let’s recall who has screwed up the worst’ contest with me, Wes.”
“I think I’ll be off to write up that report. Sir.”
“Good.”
Tyria entered her quarters and switched on the lights.
At her table sat Kell and Phanan.
“Oh, great,” she said. “One reprimand, you get one pilot in your quarters. Two reprimands, two pilots.”
“You may doubt this,” Phanan said, “but we’re not part of your punishment. We’re worried about you.”
She fell over, full length, onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow. Her voice came out muffled. “Well, don’t be.”
Kell dragged his chair beside her. “Tyria, what happened in the mess was crazy. We’d like to help, but we can’t if we don’t understand it.”
Phanan said, “Your wingman ought to be in here. But Donos is about as warm, tender, and helpful as a methane ice comet. So we’re here. Tyria, we’re your friends.”
“No, you’re not. You just want to jump into bed with me.”
Phanan looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Yes, I do want to jump into bed with you. It’s nothing personal. You’re talented and beautiful,