Star Wars_ X-Wing 09_ Starfighters of Adumar - Aaron Allston [43]
“So the only sure way for them to get out is to risk their lives.”
She nodded.
Wedge exchanged looks with the other pilots, and his appreciation for the world of Adumar dropped another notch.
• • •
Later the same day, Tomer Darpen visited the pilots’ quarters with some bad news. After two days of incarceration, the surviving four men of the six who’d tried to assassinate them had escaped. “Definitely with the aid of someone in the Cartann Ministry of Justice,” Tomer said. “Whoever paid them in the first place had enough money or pull to enlist the aid of a whole chain of conspirators.”
“They’ll be coming after us again,” Hobbie said, a mournful note in his voice.
Cheriss shook her head. “They were not just defeated but embarrassed last time. They’ll be instructed to come after you again to regain their honor. But instead they’ll probably run. And so they’ll either vanish from the face of Adumar … or be found dead in an alley, a warning to others who might contemplate failure.”
Still, Wedge was not entirely displeased with the way things were shaping up. His informal flying school at Giltella Air Base was actually proving to be a satisfying experience. Increasingly, pilots both from Cartann and foreign nations were discussing Wedge’s philosophies as much as his tactics and skills, and doing so without contempt. One Cartann pilot, barely out of his teen years, a black-haired youth named Balass ke Rassa, finally summed it up in a way that pleased Wedge: “If I understand, General, you are saying that a pilot’s honor is internal. Between him and his conscience. Not external, for his peers to see.”
“That’s right,” Wedge said. “That’s it exactly.”
“But if you do not externalize it, you cut yourself off from your nation,” Balass said. “When you do wrong, your peers cannot bring you back in line by stripping away your honor, allowing you to regain it when you resume proper behavior.”
“True,” Wedge said. “But by the same token, a group of people you respect, even though they don’t deserve it, can’t redefine honor for their own benefit, or to achieve some private agenda, and then use it to control your actions.”
Troubled, the youth withdrew from the post-duel conversation and sat alone, considering Wedge’s words, and Wedge felt that he had at last achieved a dueling victory.
6
The night of the discussion with Balass ke Rassa was one of the few in which the pilots had declined all dinner invitations, giving them a chance to dine in their quarters and get away from the pressure of being on display before the people of Cartann.
As the ascender brought them up to their floor, Janson said, “They’re calling me ‘the darling one.’ ”
“Who is?” Wedge asked.
“The court, the crowds. They have tags for us all now, and I’m the darling one. Tycho is ‘the doleful one.’ ”
Tycho frowned. “I’m not sad.”
“No, but you look sad. Makes the ladies of Cartann’s court want to comfort you. They’re so sad about wanting to comfort you that you could comfort them.”
Hobbie snorted. “And Tycho the only one of us with a successful relationship with a woman. Missed opportunities, Tycho.”
They paused before the door to give its security flatcams—primitive devices by New Republic standards, but still capable of facial recognition—time to analyze their features. Janson continued, “Hobbie is ‘the dour one.’ Not too much romance in that, Hobbie. And Wedge is ‘the diligent one.’ That may not sound too romantic, Wedge, but ‘diligent’ has a couple of colloquial meanings here that add to your luster—”
“I don’t want to know,” Wedge said. The doors opened. “Say, look who’s here.”
Hallis sat on the monstrously overinflated chair situated in one corner, her legs up over one of the chair arms. She waved. Her recording unit, Whitecap, said, “Say, look who’s here” in inimitable 3PO unit tones.
Wedge led his pilots in. “What’s with Whitecap?” he asked.
“What’s with