Star Wars - X-Wing 02 - Wedge's Gamble

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Wedge waited for recognition to flash in Mirax's eyes, but she shook Iella's hand without any sign she rec­ognized the name or knew of the woman. Perhaps Corran never spoke to her about his partner or never named her to Mirax.

  Iella freed her hand from Mirax's and sat back on the couch. "This all complicates things incredibly, but we're on top of them right now, so it's not a crippling emer­gency. This place is a safehouse. I've called in someone who I expected to use to help debrief you and interrogate you, if necessary. We'll still need the debriefing, of course, but we need it to determine where to start assessing the damage to our operation here. Your problems could have a perfectly innocent explanation, but because they involve the Empire, I doubt that entirely."

  "I don't know what happened really." Mirax shrugged. "I made the arrangements as per usual with a broker. That gives me an identity code and a window for an exit vector. I enter three flight plans or so, get clearance on them, then head out. This time, when I tried to use the ID to enter the flight plans from a public datapad, things locked up. I cleared out and Imp Security landed on the place. It was down in Invisec so it created quite the stir. I turned around and burned some favors my father had earned with Black Sun to get my ship and crew taken care of. Since then I've been looking for a friendly face."

  Iella's brown eyes focused on the window behind Mirax for a second. "Sounds like the Imps got the con­troller who was entering the ID codes. Your broker insu­lated you from direct discovery, but when you used the code they found you. We can get some slicers back­tracking things and see how bad the situation has be­come. That means bringing in folks who have skills I don't, and for that, we have to wait."

  Pash sat down beside Mirax. "While we wait I think we've a more serious problem to figure out how to han­dle."

  Mirax frowned. "What can be more serious than the

  Imps knowing members of Rogue Squadron are on Co­ruscant?"

  Wedge smiled. "If the Imps find out why we're here, they can take steps to make the conquest of Coruscant impossible. That, my dear Mirax, is about as serious as it gets."

  22

  As unsettled as things were, Corran felt glad when they headed back to the Hotel Imperial. Erisi, Rima, and he made fairly good time through the city. A freak storm over near the museum slowed them down by cutting power to a moving sidewalk. Like most of the other pe­destrians they stood around waiting for it to be repaired, contenting themselves with watching the storm or reading the news as it scrolled past on the readers. Corran noted that while public transport could be disrupted by storms, the news and propaganda machine flowed onward with­out a hitch.

  No one spoke very much as they traveled back to the hotel, but Corran caught Erisi watching him and giving him brave smiles to shore up his feelings. He appreciated the effort, but it only served to remind him what sort of fool he'd made of himself. He almost asked her to stop, but somewhere deep down inside he knew the humilia­tion was good for him, trimming back ego and forcing him to be more thoughtful.

  As they walked along, he reached out and rested a hand on Rima's shoulder. "I do want to apologize for what went on back there."

  A curtain of white hair slid in back of her shoulder, brushing across the top of his hand, as she looked in his direction. "Perhaps I owe you an apology also."

  "Not at all."

  "I do." Pink, blue, and silver highlights flashed through her hair as a moving sidewalk conveyed them through a tunnel lit with a random pattern of neon lights. "Everyone from my world carries around some survivor guilt. We do not want to be pitied, but at the same time the sacrifice our people paid seems to demand respect. Among us there are those who have lost a great deal more than others . . ."

  "But you have all lost everything."

  "True, but someone who was with his family in ser­vice on another planet has lost less than those who had kin die. Sel, in seeing everyone go, his story is tragic." Rima glanced down at her open hands. "All of us recall where we were when we heard the news and the tragedy's impact hit us full at that moment. Sel had thought noth­ing was amiss, then he learned the significance of what he had experienced. The hours in which he considered it nothing mock him and haunt him."

  In the same way does my failure to avenge my father haunt me. "You were right, his life was hard."

  Erisi rubbed her left hand along his spine. "I think what she means to say is that her people are pitied for something over which they had no control. The gulf be­tween pity and respect is vast. When their tragedy is den­igrated, and that seemed to be what you were doing, you strip away respect and reduce them to a pathetic state. And while they do not want to be pitied, their actions cannot be judged without bearing in mind the tragedy that underscores their lives."

  Corran slowly nodded. Working in the Rebellion pro­vides two things for Alderaanians: vengeance and a means to earn the respect they desire from others. They seek the vindication I felt when I brought Bossk in for my father's murder, and they're fighting to avoid what I felt when Loor let him go.

  He smiled. "We were both wrong."

  Rima shook her head. "We were both underinformed and that condition has been corrected."

  "Agreed."

  They got off the moving sidewalk at one of the Hotel Imperial's middle entrances. Erisi pointed toward the doorway as Rima slowed her pace. "You will join us for dinner, yes?"

  "Can't." She gestured vaguely back along their line of travel. "There's something I have to check on. I'll be in contact tomorrow morning."

  Corran and Erisi bid Rima farewell and took a lift down to their room. They said nothing to each other, but Erisi stood a bit closer to Corran than she normally did. He didn't mind that terribly much because her obvious concern told him he wasn't alone and had, in her, a friend upon whom he could rely. He also read other confusing things in her eyes and posture, but his emotional state was chaotic enough that making sense of much of any­thing was impossible.

  He opened the door to the room and preceded her in. Hitting a light switch he saw no one and confirmed that things had been left the way he positioned them in the morning before they headed out. The triangular nub of a black sock was still caught in the edge of a drawer and the closet's slide door had been left open to a point that was even with a pair of Erisi's ecru slacks.

  The door clicked shut behind him, then the lights went out. He turned and felt Erisi's hands slide along ei­ther side of his chest, then close gently around his back. Corran felt her body press against his and the feather-light brush of her lips on his forehead, nose, and lips. She pulled him close and again dropped her mouth to his, kissing him with the fierce passion they'd shared in the Grand Hall.

  Making no conscious decisions to do so, he let his arms enfold her. His left hand slipped beneath the hem of her jacket and gently stroked her back. His right hand came up and held the back of her head. He breathed in

  deeply, filling his nose with the spicy scent of her per­fume. As she broke off their kiss, arching her head back, he traced his tongue from the hollow of her throat to her earlobe.

  Erisi lazily pulled him along with her as she slowly drifted toward the room's bed. Corran understood her in­tention and realized he should have resisted the tempta­tion she offered. Rational arguments tried to trip a circuit breaker in his brain, but they all failed. Operational secu­rity wasn't important because if the Imperials decided to take them there was no way for them to elude capture. Sleeping together or separately would not save them if the Empire knew enough about them to know where to find them.

  Both of them being members of Rogue Squadron was no bar to involvement. Nawara Ven and Rhysati Ynr had fallen in love and that had not proved an impediment to their skills and performance. Corran and Erisi were of le­gal age, sound mind, and both consented to what they were about to do. Even the fact that the two of them were from different worlds and different cultures had no bearing on what they were going to do. That we are here, now, is all that matters.

  The word "now" be
gan to ricochet around in his skull, releasing all sorts of memories. When he'd been in CorSec he'd heard his father or Gil Bastra or himself tell rookies that most criminals were stupid because they lived for now. Living for now meant they didn't look ahead to the consequences of their actions. They didn't take precautions, didn't plan, and as a result, what they did fell apart on them.

  Things went deeper than just that as well. He remem­bered his father weeping on the anniversary of the death of Corran's mother. "One of the reasons she was a good woman, wife, and mother was because she didn't think about herself first. Not a selfish bone in your mother's body. Everyone else came first and what she wanted was saved for later because we needed her now. And now she

  has no more later, and there seems little reason in having a later without her."

  Erisi stopped moving backward and Corran felt the foot of the bed against his shins. She slowly sank back on the bed and drew him down with her. He resisted slightly, lowering her softly onto the quilted coverlet. He saw her in soft shades of grey from the dim light splashing in through the window. She was a seductive vision, a dream made real and warm and he fought to use that image to quiet the thoughts raging through his mind.

  Powerful though that image was, a feeling of disaster dissolved it. Corran remembered his own relief at not sleeping with Iella back when he was with CorSec be­cause, aside from destroying her marriage, the affair would have changed forever their relationship. The friendship and trust they had developed working together could have never been reclaimed. It was true that they might have stuck together and been stronger for getting together, but their attraction had been as much circum­stantial as it had been real, which made for a poor foun­dation for any permanent relationship.

  And this is circumstantial, too. Corran heard Mirax on Noquivzor telling him that Erisi would not be good for him and he'd seen how truly different they were as they came into Coruscant. He'd developed doubts about any relationship with her then, and this situation now did not invalidate those doubts. She's attractive and I'm at­tracted, but something is not right here.

  Something inside him felt very wrong. His father had told him countless times to trust his feelings and to play his hunches. Corran had taken his father's advice and had learned to live by what he felt, or to later regret going against those feelings. He had gone against his gut feel­ings before, and with much less in the way of inducement to do so, but those situations had never turned out right in the end.

  Corran let himself fall forward, but he kept his el­bows locked and held his chest and head above Erisi. "I can't."

  Erisi flashed him a shadowed smile. "I think you're doing fine."

  "Seriously, I can't." He bent his right arm and flopped down on his flank beside her. "It isn't going to work."

  Rolling up on her side, she reached over and stroked his cheek. "What's wrong? What did I do wrong?"

  "It's not you." He took her hand and kissed her palm. "It's not that I'd like nothing better than to be here with you, but ..."

  "This is just now, Corran. I need this, you need this. It won't change who we are. No obligations. No recrim­inations. No regrets."

  Her words poured soothingly into his ears. He had no doubt she meant them and that they would be true for her. "I hear you, Erisi, and I believe you, but I don't know that I'd be able to leave it in the past. It might not change who we are or what we mean to each other, but I'd bet against it given my past history. As I said, it's not you, it's me."

  He rolled onto his back, then sat up. "You have to figure I'm an idiot. We've gotten very close a number of times and I keep pulling back."

  He felt her hand on his back as she sat up beside him. "Actually, while it is frustrating, I do find this hesitation one of your more endearing qualities."

  "Decisiveness in men is so off-putting, after all."

  Erisi laughed easily. "Your sense of humor is attrac­tive as well, except when you use it as a shield."

  "Sorry."

  She kissed his shoulder. "You see, Corran, few are the men who allow their emotions to have a part in their decision-making process. Most are expediently logical— emotions motivate them, but do not guide them. With most men there would be no hesitation—if emotions were going to come into play, it would be afterward. Your abil­ity to factor emotions into your choices ahead of time makes you rather unique and worth pursuing."

  "Or a big waste of time."

  "Not so far."

  "I'm just warming up. You'll see. Give me time."

  Erisi sighed beside him. "Perhaps that is the best idea, right now, no matter what we think we want. What we need is time alone."

  He smiled in the direction of her silhouette. "How can you be so logical? Aren't you supposed to be feeling scorned right now?"

  "Perhaps I should, but then I don't always allow my­self to be ruled by emotions." She shrugged. "We've just come to a decision to postpone making a decision about us and the nature of our relationship. Depending upon the decision made, I might be scorned, but I don't think that emotion is worthy of either one of us."

  Corran nodded. "Yeah, you're right there, on both counts."

  "Well, I'll leave you here, then ..."

  "No." Corran reached over and squeezed her leg just above the knee. "I'm fairly used to taking walks to sort things out. I've got a key, so I can let myself back in. I don't know when I'll get back."

  "I'll head out and get some food. I should be here when you get back unless some Hapan princeling comes along and sweeps me away to make me the queen of some distant planet. Then won't you be sorry?"

  "Actually I think I would be." Corran stood, then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Thanks for understanding."

  "Thank you for letting me understand."

  Guided more by emotion than any sort of rational thought, Corran left Erisi behind in the room, entered a lift, and hit the lowest numbered button he could find. It took him well below the level where they had last seen Rima. The walkway onto which it dumped him didn't look that bad, though it was deeper than any place he'd been since his arrival on Coruscant.

  Shoulders hunched and hands jammed deep into the

  pockets of a brown bantha-suede jacket, he started wan­dering. It didn't matter to him where he was going, but just that he was going. Walking demanded little in the way of mental activity, so it gave him time to think and he'd done scant little of that which was unconnected to the mission for well over a month.

  He tried to trace the source of his discomfort, but no easy answer presented itself. Certainly the pressure of be­ing on Coruscant had a lot to do with it. Though precau­tions had been taken against discovery, something as simple as his nearly being sighted by Kirtan Loor showed that no matter how much care one took, there were times when luck just ran out.

  Corran smiled. Back in CorSec they'd adulterated an old Jedi aphorism about luck to answer criminals who claimed they'd been caught because of bad luck. The Jedi Knights maintained there was no such thing as luck, just the Force. In CorSec they'd told criminals there was no such thing as bad luck, just the Corellian Security Force.

  Now there's not even that. In news he had seen scroll­ing across readouts throughout Coruscant he learned that the Diktat had dissolved CorSec and had allocated most of its resources and some of its personnel to the new Pub­lic Safety Service. It didn't take much to see the change was a purge of people with questionable loyalties to the Diktat, but whatever its purpose, it erased yet one more link he had to his past.

  His hand rose to his breastbone, but the gold medal­lion he normally wore was not there. General Cracken's people had said that by keeping it he could seriously com­promise security, so he'd put it away in Whistler's small storage compartment. He knew the droid would keep it safe and, for him, knowing where it was had almost the same effect as actually wearing the good luck charm. And the Jedi whose face appears on that coin would say there's no such thing as luck, so clearly it can't be a good luck charm.

  It oc
curred to him that he was losing his focus on life. Back when he had been with CorSec things had been sim-

  pie. He knew who he was and so did everyone else around him. Though things were not all black and white, the number of grey tones were limited. There wasn't too much for him to handle, which made it that much easier to focus on what he was supposed to be doing.

  In cataloging the chaos that had dominated his life over the past five years or so, it was easy to tote things up in the negative column. His father had died. He'd left CorSec and his friends had vanished. He'd slipped in and out of various identities while on the run. After months of training and fighting for the Rebellion—escaping death by the narrowest of margins over and over again—he got stuffed onto Coruscant and nearly got spotted by one of the few people on the planet who could recognize him. He wasn't flying. He didn't have his good luck charm and he found himself missing Whistler, Mirax, Ooryl, and the others.

  He shivered. If I only look at things on the negative side of the balance sheet, I'll keep imposing reasons on myself to remain unfocused. The key to getting his focus back was to isolate those things he could control and work with them. Anything else didn't matter because he couldn't influence it. Only by doing as much as he could to manipulate the variables under his control could he keep himself in position to make decisions instead of find­ing himself without options.

  What that means now is concentrating on my mis­sion. I'm here to learn about security and that's what I should be doing. He nodded, then slowly began to realize that his wanderings had taken him farther and lower than he would have consciously chosen to go. Coronet City on Corellia had some seedy spots, but they appeared posi­tively immaculate and safe compared to where Corran found himself. While his location did provide him with a datapoint for his mission—namely that there was no ac­tive Imperial security to be seen this deep down—it was a small speck of silver lining in a large cloud.