Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [105]
As gently as he could, he said, “Dia, thank you.”
She didn’t respond.
He repeated his words, and finally she drew back and looked up at him, incomprehension and pain on her face. “What?”
“Thank you.”
She shook her head. “For shooting—for shooting—”
“No. For my life. If you hadn’t done what you did, I would be dead. I would have failed to convince Zsinj, and he would have killed us. I prefer to be alive, Dia. Thank you.”
He finally could see comprehension flickering around in her eyes.
Kell turned and caught her attention. “Dia. Me, too. Thank you. Without you, I’d be dead. Or in Zsinj’s tender care, worse than dead. Face and I owe our lives to you.”
She stared at him in confusion for a long moment, then collapsed again into Face’s arms. “No,” she said, and repeated it again and again as her tears flowed unchecked.
Finally she slept.
Face let Kell handle the routine tasks of getting them back to the Halmad system. They’d have to rendezvous with Cubber and—and whoever was assigned in Castin’s place—in the asteroid belt, in order to do a complete sweep of the shuttle for tracking equipment, then head on in to Hawk-bat Base.
He had just that much time to compose his report, a report in which he had to explain just why it was that two subordinates had died in his immediate vicinity in just a few days.
16
Wedge listened to Face’s report, asking for clarifications here and there, letting the man—who, despite his skill as an actor, could not quite conceal the fact that he was stricken with guilt over Castin’s death—pour out the entire story of the meeting with Zsinj. It was a report Face had practiced; he’d given it to Janson on the day he’d returned to Hawk-bat Base, and had to repeat it to Wedge now that the rest-and-recreation unit had returned from Coruscant. Yet in spite of the extra practice, Face’s emotions were still raw and on the surface, concealed not at all by his proficiency with acting.
When it was done, Face said, “I take full responsibility for Castin’s death, sir.”
Wedge gave him a look of surprise. “You take full responsibility.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So Castin Donn played no part in his own death. None of the blame falls on him.”
“Well—”
“I knew even better than you of his history of insubordination, of rebellion. And I’m the commanding officer of this unit. Yet I bear no responsibility? It somehow is all yours?”
“Well—”
“Face, what do you think you could have done to prevent his death?”
“I could have ordered the smuggling compartment searched, rather than just looked into.”
“Why would you have, when looking into it showed that he wasn’t there?”
“I could have accounted for his whereabouts before we took off.”
“But you did. You accounted for his whereabouts as they pertained to your mission. He wasn’t with you, so far as you could tell, so the rest of the information about his whereabouts was irrelevant. He was just one step ahead of you, ahead of all of us. Did you know he’d rigged the duty roster so he wouldn’t be on duty until after your return, that he’d set up a dummy and mechanism on his bunk to make it look and sound as though he were there sleeping?”
“Not at the time, sir. Lieutenant Janson told me about that.”
“Castin Donn wasn’t your responsibility. And though his death was very unfortunate, and took place in association with your mission, it’s not your fault. Now, you tell me who is your responsibility.”
“Well, me, sir. And Kell and Dia.”
“What have you done about them?”
“I’ve asked the other Wraiths and support crews, and especially her roommate, Shalla, to keep an eye on Dia. She doesn’t seem suicidal anymore, but she seems … different. Like a shelled animal that’s suddenly had the shell ripped away. Injured and frightened and a lot more vulnerable.”
Wedge nodded. “Your measures seem appropriate. And Kell?”
“I don’t understand. What do I need to watch out for with Kell?”
“He was the one who searched the smuggling compartment. He didn’t detect Castin. How do you suppose he feels?