Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap

by Michael A. Stackpole

  uating people and trying to decide how much you could trust

  them, yes?"

  Pash's frown deepened. "Yes."

  "And Captain Celchu figured high on your list of sus-

  pect individuals, didn't he?"

  "On a scale of one to infinity he ranked about a five."

  "But that was higher than anyone else there, correct?"

  "You're making it sound wrong."

  "I move for the answer to be stricken as nonresponsive."

  "So ordered." Ackbar again looked down at Pash. "Just

  answer the questions, Lieutenant."

  "The ranking you gave Captain Celchu was higher than

  anyone else's ranking, wasn't it, Lieutenant?" Pash nodded reluctantly. "Yes."

  "Thank you. Now, on the night, two weeks ago, you

  were preparing to fly a mission that would aid in our con-

  quest of Coruscant."

  Yes."

  "What was that mission?"

  "Five of us were going to fly cover for the rest of the

  squadron as they tried to bring the planetary shields down."

  "To do that you needed fighters, correct?"

  'Yes."

  "And you had them?"

  'Yes."

  "Where did they come from?"

  Pash took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Cap-

  tain Celchu had purchased them during his time here on

  Coruscant."

  "And he had even flown a mission here, correct?"

  "Yes, the mission where he saved us."

  Ettyk turned back to the prosecution table and studied

  the datapad. Iella Wessiri came around to face her. "That

  night you witnessed a conversation between Captain Celchu

  and Corran Horn, did you not?"

  "I did. I wasn't a party to the conversation, though."

  "But you did overhear it?" Ettyk turned and spitted the

  witness with a forthright stare.

  The pilot hung his head. "Yes."

  "Did you hear Captain Celchu tell Lieutenant Horn that

  he had checked over the fighter Horn would be using?"

  "Yes."

  "And did you hear Lieutenant Horn threaten to work to

  expose Captain Celchu's treason once he returned from the

  mission?"

  "Yes." Fatigue dragged at the red-haired man's reply.

  The prosecutor smiled. "And what was Captain

  Celchu's response to that threat?"

  "He said he had nothing to fear from Corran's investiga-

  tion."

  "As if he knew there would be no investigation?"

  Nawara stood quickly. "Objection! It calls for specula-

  tion and is inflammatory." "Sustained."

  Ettyk turned and nodded to Nawara. "Your witness."

  Nawara hesitated for a second. The evidence Halla Et-

  tyk had laid out so far came as no surprise and was circum-

  stantial. All she had gotten from Pash was that he had seen

  Tycho and Corran exchange some harsh words. That would

  go to motive, and some of the comments did cover opportu-

  nity to fix Corran's fighter, but without the Headhunter there

  was no evidence of tampering.

  All he could accomplish on cross-examination would be

  to ask Pash to recount Tycho's explanation for the meeting

  where Corran saw him talking to Kirtan Loor. Tycho had

  explained he'd been speaking to a Duros trader, Lai Nootka,

  not Kirtan Loor. Nawara knew Ettyk would object to Pash's

  repetition of Tycho's explanation on hearsay grounds. With-

  out being able to call Lai Nootka--or putting Tycho on the

  stand--there was no way to get at th at whole subject.

  Unless I called Kirtan Loor and he denied ever meeting

  Tycho! He put the chances of that happening at something

  just under the chances of the Emperor showing up and grant-

  ing the Rebels one and all an Imperial pardon.

  "Counselor Ven?"

  Nawara looked up at Admiral Ackbar. "Sorry, sir. I

  have no questions of this witness at this time." The Twi'lek

  resumed his seat.

  "Very well. Next witness, Commander Ettyk."

  Ettyk stood once again. "The state calls Erisi Dlarit to

  the stand."

  14

  Corran Horn felt as clumsy as the Trandoshan dragging him

  through the interrogation center's corridor. The injection an

  Eradee droid had given him back in his isolation cell had

  already begun to take hold. He had it in his mind that at least

  part of the concoction used was skirtopanol and that was not

  good. The one time he'd been under its influence, back dur-

  ing an exercise at the Corellian Security Force Academy, he

  confessed to all sorts of minor transgressions from his child-

  hood. That would have been merely comical, but one of his

  father's cronies was overseeing the interrogation seminar and

  supplied his father with the text of his confession.

  I don't think Iceheart will . . . When he started he'd

  had a full thought there, but the very image of Ysanne Isard

  that sprang into his mind killed things. Corran knew enough

  to know the drugs were working the way they were supposed

  to. He started to moan from fear and frustration, which

  earned him a backhanded cuff from his guard.

  The blow and the dry-rot scent of the Trandoshan com-

  bined with his fear to bring memories rushing full-blown and

  terrible back into his mind. He saw little holographic images

  hovering in the air before him. Three figures, two men and a

  female Quarren, sat at a table in the darkened corner of a

  tapcaf. The two men---one of them his father--were deep in

  conversation. His father showed his agitation in the way he

  poked a finger at the smaller man and the color rising in his

  face.

  Into the picture walked a Trandoshan bounty hunter

  wearing a bulky dust-cloak thrown over his shoulders. The

  lizard-man strode past the table and on up toward Corran

  until his green, scaly face eclipsed sight of Corran's father.

  The Trandoshan, Bossk, stepped back, slapping a power

  pack into the blaster carbine he'd produced from beneath the

  cloak. He spun slowly and sprayed red blaster bolts back and

  forth over the trio at the table.

  The Quarren all but exploded into a black mist. Cor-

  ran's father caught two shots high in the chest, slamming

  him against the back of the booth. As he slid from sight, the

  little man to whom he had been speaking tried to dive for

  cover. Unfortunately for him, the Trandoshan's fire blasted

  the table into flaming splinters and half-melted metal and

  still hit him. The little man took three bolts in the torso and a

  fourth that blew the back of his head off.

  Corran saw himself in the scene. He saw no transition,

  no arrival. He just was there, kneeling in the blood, sur-

  rounded by burning bits of table. He held his father's body in

  his arms. He wiped the Quarren ichor from his father's face

  with a borrowed rag, all the while willing his father to open

  his eyes and announce he would be fine.

  The two blackened holes in his father's chest staed up

  at him. At first they reminded him of a viper's fang marks,

  then they blinked. One became an icy blue and the other a

  volcanic red. The world blurred for a moment, then all the

&nb
sp; colors flowed together and became solid white, as they did

  when he was in hyperspace.

  Then he reverted and found himself standing before

  Ysanne Isard in a predominately white room.

  She frowned. "It fascinates me how all of our interroga-

  tion sessions with you end up coming back to your father's

  death. There are countless psychiatric advocates who would

  find your preoccupation with your father's death to be grand

  justification for adherence to disciplines as useless as Jedi

  training. I do not."

  Corran blinked his eyes. He couldn't recall going from

  the corridor to the interrogation chamber, nor being bound

  to the man-form that held him upright. The straps at his

  shoulders, and across his chest, waist, wrists, and ankles all

  pinched and chafed in such a way that he knew he'd been in

  restraints for quite some time. He couldn't remember any-

  thing but seeing his father die again, yet his throat felt raw

  enough that he knew he had to have been speaking or shout-

  ing or screaming.

  Isard turned, presenting him her profile, and nodded to

  unseen minions beyond a mirrored wall. "What I have

  learned so far is a great deal of gossip that might be suitable

  for embarrassing the Corellian Diktat, but that sort of infor-

  mation is hardly in short supply. You have not ensconced

  yourself highly enough in the councils of the Rebellion to be

  of use to me--at least, I do not believe you have. It is entirely

  possible you have managed to resist interrogation in certain

  areas."

  Corran shook his head. "You got the wrong guy."

  "Then I will just have to make you into the right guy,

  won't I?" Her eyes narrowed with irritation as she faced him

  again. "Had Gil Bastra not sent you to the outlier worlds,

  you would have become part and parcel of the Rebellion.

  You would have found yourself in General Cracken's confi-

  dence and I would have found you very useful in that regard.

  Then again, it is possible that he set you in Rogue Squadron

  so you could watch Tycho Celchu and uncover his ties to

  me."

  "No.'

  "No? Cracken must have done that. You were his agent,

  yes?"

  Cotran shook his head adamantly. "No. I wasn't a spy

  for Cracken."

  "Were I inclined to believe anything, I might be inclined

  to believe you in this case. Unfortunately I need proof." She

  stepped aside as the Trandoshan wheeled in a device that

  bristled with probes and danced with the colorful illumina-

  tion of an ever-changing light array. The probes had been

  fitted on a concave surface that could easily close over him

  and the rack to which he was bound. Corran caught the stink

  of ozone as the Trandoshan brought the device closer. He

  didn't like the fact that he heard a click down at his feet

  when the lizard-man finally nudged the device into place.

  Isard smiled in a manner that made Corran want to

  shrivel up and die. "This is a variant on a design Darth Vader

  created to torture, among others, Han Solo at Bespin. As you

  know, humans have a number of different types of neural

  receptors. This device is designed to stimulate three of

  them--the original only worked on the pain receptors. I have

  found that adding stimulation for the heat and cold receptors

  is most effective in getting what I want out of those I interro-

  gate."

  Corran wanted to snap off some quip, but fatigue and

  anxiety prevented him from mustering the required concen-

  tration.

  "So, now we begin, Lieutenant Horn. Just tell me what I

  want to know .... "

  "... and I won't have to ask the court to let me treat you

  like a hostile witness."

  Iella Wessiri almost felt sorry for Erisi Dlarit as Halla

  Ettyk tried to coax cooperation out of her. In going over the

  depositions before the trial opened, Iella and Halla had

  agreed that members of Rogue Squadron would be hostile

  and resistant to anything that made them speak against

  Tycho Celchu. Halla had decided, therefore, to bring them

  up first and get them out of the way before she brought in the

  investigators and other witnesses who could attest to Tycho's

  involvement with the Empire. Halla had pointed out that

  Nawara Yen would probably end up calling all the Rogues

  back to the stand, but by the time he did that, their positive

  affirmations about Tycho would sound hollow and unsup-

  ported to the Tribunal.

  "Flight Officer Dlarit, how did you come to be on Co-

  ruscant two weeks ago?"

  Erisi brought her chin up and her blue eyes flashed defi-

  antly. "Corran Horn and I were inserted into Coruscant un-

  der the guise of being a Kuati telbun and his mistress. For the

  entire journey to Coruscant and the subsequent week, we

  were together almost constantly. We were good friends and

  talked a great deal."

  Halla Ettyk nodded. "So you were confidants?"

  "We shared confidences, yes." The black-haired woman

  smiled politely. "It is difficult to keep secrets when you are

  living in such close proximity with someone."

  "And Corran Horn felt free to discuss things with you?"

  "Objection relevance."

  leila glanced over at Nawara Ven. The twitching of his

  braintails betrayed some nervousness, but the Twi'lek was

  objecting at all the places Halla had predicted he would. She

  said he had talent. She didn't think he could win the case,

  and his decision not to cross-examine Cracken wasn't what

  Halla had anticipated.

  Halla looked up at Admiral Ackbar. "This is founda-

  tional, Admiral. She was living with Corran Horn for a con-

  siderable portion of the last part of his life. I would suggest

  this would qualify her to give opinions on his demeanor."

  "Overruled."

  Erisi frowned briefly. "We discussed many things rather

  openly and frankly."

  "How would you characterize the conditions under

  which you spent time with Lieutenant Horn?"

  The Thyferran pilot shrugged. "I saw him in combat,

  during which he was calm and a leader. A hero. I saw him in

  regular circumstances as well. He could be funny and com-

  passionate and, well, attractive. I saw him in all different

  ways and situations."

  "On the night Coruscant fell, how would you character-

  ize him?"

  "Anxious and agitated."

  "And what was the source of his irritation?"

  Erisi chewed her lower lip for a moment. "Corran

  said . . ."

  "Objection." Nawara Ven stood. "This is hearsay."

  Halla Ettyk took a step forward. "! would ask for an

  excited outburst exception, your honor. She has already tes-

  tified that Horn was anxious and agitated."

  The Twi'lek stepped up beside Halla. "My learned col-

  league certainly understands that being agitated and saying

  something in no way makes it subject to the excited outburst

  exception."

  "Sustained."

  Nawara smiled slightly as
he returned to his bench, but

  Halla's expression just darkened. "Very well. Flight Officer

  Dlarit, did you speak with Lieutenant Horn before you took

  off on the mission that evening?"

  Yes."

  "You stated he seenled anxious and agitated. Did you

  find his state of mind unusual?"

  "Objection, counsel is leading the witness."

  "Rephrase the question, Commander."

  "Flight Officer Dlarit, how did Lieutenant Horn's state

  of mind strike you at the time?"

  Erisi tugged at a wisp of hair behind her left ear. "Anxi

  ety I could understand. We were all anxious to get going and

  to see if the mission would succeed or not."

  "And his agitation?"

  "That wasn't like Corran."

  "Had you seen or heard anything that, in your mind,

  explained his agitation?"

  The witness hesitated. "I saw Corran speaking with

  Captain Celchu. 1 couldn't hear what they were saying, but I

  saw them speaking together. Then Corran came over and

  spoke with me."

  "And you concluded?"

  "Something in their conversation had set Corran off."

  Iella glanced down at the datapad on the prosecution

  table. Halla had gotten out of Erisi all she expected the wit-

  ness to admit--testimony showing Corran to be out of sorts

  as a result of his conversation with Captain Celchu. When

  they had deposed Erisi they had learned the nature of her

  conversation with Corran. While Halla would have loved to

  get that testimony in, hearsay prevented it. The excited out-

  burst exception wasn't something she had expected to suc-

  ceed.

  Halla smiled at Nawara. "Your witness."

  The Twi'lek stood. "Flight Officer Dlarit, how long was

  it between the time you reported speaking to Corran and the

  previous time you had spoken to him?" "An hour."

  "Now, you just testified that you saw Corran speak with

  Captain Celchu. Did you see Lieutenant Horn speak with

  anyone else before speaking with Captain Celchu?"

  "No."

  Nawara's head came up as if her answer surprised him.

  "You didn't see Lieutenant Horn speak with Mirax Terrik?"

  Erisi shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose I did. I saw

  them standing near each other and saw her run off, but I

  don't recall any conversation."

  "But you do concede that they may have spoken to each