The Krytos Trap (22 page)

“Undoubtedly there was, Wedge, but it was not open to you.
If
Captain Celchu was a spy, then General Cracken and Winter and Iella all missed the signs of it.”

“But Corran didn’t.”

Diric’s smile returned more naturally. “As much as I valued Corran as a friend, he was not always right.”

“So Whistler has indicated.”

“And no one knew him better.” Diric patted him on the leg. “Maintain your faith in your friend. He deserves it.”

“Again, thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary. So, would you like me to take you somewhere? We can eat or drink and Iella can join us.”

Wedge thought for a moment, then shook his head. “There should be another two hours of testimony today, shouldn’t there?”

“Yes. Winter was called after you were.”

Watching Winter testify has got to be hard on Iella. They were even closer than Iella and I became, and with Winter and Tycho being together
 … “Iella will need you there, because Winter’s testimony is going to be tougher on her than mine.”

“But you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I won’t be.” Wedge jerked a thumb toward the east. “I’m going to go down a level, then over to the Galactic Museum via the walkway. I’ll spend some time in the Criminal Gallery, visiting old friends, then I’ll come back here when court is adjourned for the day and take you up on your offer. I have a feeling that when today is over, Iella isn’t going to want to be alone either. No matter how this turns out, I do consider her a friend, and I want to make sure she has no reason to doubt that at all.”

19

Gavin shifted his shoulders uneasily and tugged at the cuffs of his dress jacket.
I feel about as comfortable here as Commander Antilles did on the witness stand
.

Asyr slipped her arm through his as the tether-lift stopped and the doors opened. “It’s not going to be that bad, Gavin. Liska Dan’kre, our hostess, is an old friend of mine. We schooled together before I went off to the Academy.”

“If she’s hiring a skyhook for this party, she must be filthy rich.”

Asyr purred contentedly. “Rich, yes, but you’ll find nothing filthy about her.” She led Gavin from the lift box onto the entry platform which overlooked the whole of the skyhook’s disk. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” The circular skyhook actually formed a bowl with several pathways spiraling down through forested depths to a central courtyard. A kilometer in diameter, the floating garden flew high over the mountain district of Coruscant. Off to the northeast, beyond the Manarai Mountains, Gavin saw the top of the Imperial Palace. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

Asyr looked up at him, puzzlement riding openly on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Where to begin?
“Nothing, really, I suppose. It’s just that, well, on Tatooine we had no skyhooks. They weren’t deemed safe enough—one good dust storm blows up out of the nastier regions and it would pull one of these skyhooks from the sky.”

The Bothan patted his hand. “The repulsorlift generators are more than sufficient for keeping this skyhook aloft. Don’t worry about that.”

“Then there’s the jungle.” He gave her a weak smile. “You weren’t with us on one of our duty stations, but it looked a lot like this. I got shot there. My stomach is already acting up because of it.”

Asyr rubbed her hand over the faint trace of a scar on his belly. “I’ve seen what the bacta left you for a souvenir, remember, love?”

Gavin blushed. “Yeah.”

“And I think you’re not nervous about that as much as you’re nervous about being here among my people.” She raised a finger and pressed it to his lips to forestall a comment. “I know you’re not bigoted—if you were you’d not be here—but you’ve even said yourself that most of your life has been spent among humans. It’s not unusual to be anxious when outnumbered—I feel it whenever we go to places where humans predominate.”

Gavin’s shoulders sagged a centimeter or two. “I should have realized … I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Asyr smiled broadly. “Come on, let’s make an impression on my friends.”

Gavin brought his head up and smiled. “As you wish, Asyr, so shall it be.”

Together they descended from the entry platform and started off on a path that took a long, looping spiral down to the central courtyard. The guests at the party were mostly Bothans, and all of them stared at the couple as they walked past. Gavin knew that had to be because of the high-necked, sleeveless gown Asyr wore. Woven of iridescent blue and purple thread, the color shifted and shimmered with her every movement. The garment clung tight to her slender body, but the fact that the skirts had been slit from ankle to high on
her thigh meant she was not hampered while walking. She’d loosely draped a simple blue stole, woven from the metallic thread used in her dress, across her back and through her elbows, completing the outfit.

Other Bothan females wore similar gowns, but none so well. Though he was not wholly adept at reading Bothan body language and facial expressions, the rippling of fur on necks and shoulders of those they passed by told him that Asyr’s gown was making quite an impression indeed. Gavin thought he looked pretty sharp in his Rogue Squadron uniform, but he was a black hole compared with a supernova, and quite content with that role.

As they reached the courtyard, a lithe female Bothan with black and tan markings excused herself from a circle of individuals who were listening to Borsk Fey’lya holding forth on something. She wore a gown similar in design to Asyr’s, though it had been made of cloth of gold and had been accented with jet beadwork in the form of stripes. She beamed broadly as she approached them. “Asyr Sei’lar, you are a vision!”

Asyr gave her friend a big hug. “Thank you for the invitation, Liska.”

Liska pulled back and looked up at Gavin. “And you are Asyr’s friend.”

Gavin executed a semiformal bow. “Gavin Darklighter of Rogue Squadron, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He took her hand in his and shook it gently.

Liska sighed contentedly, then smiled at Asyr. “So mannerly, no wonder you find him so attractive. How did you meet him?”

Asyr hesitated for a moment. “I was part of an operation in Invisec before the liberation. We met then.”

Gavin smiled. “She was trying to get me executed as an example to the Imps.”

“You always did play a little rough, Asyr.”

Asyr shrugged. “Luckily he had Nawara Ven defending him, so the execution was delayed. Imps showed up, Gavin saved my life and I his in the ensuing firefight. Not much more to tell than that.”

“Quite the first date, Asyr. It’s a wonder he dared go out with you again.” Liska linked her arm through Asyr’s. “You never seemed to get into this sort of trouble when I’ve been there to keep you safe.”

“True enough.”

Liska looked up at Gavin. “I’m going to steal her away for a moment or two, just to get caught up. You don’t mind, do you?”

Gavin gave her a big smile and shook his head. “Not at all—seeing you again is all she’s talked about since the invitation came. I’ll just find myself something to drink.”

Asyr reached out and gave his right hand a squeeze. “Won’t be but a minute.”

“Have fun.” Gavin watched Liska lead her away, then looked around, surveying his surroundings. Knots of individuals—almost exclusively Bothans—dominated the landscape. About the only place they were not predominant was at one bar where a couple of humans, two Ithorians, and a handful of other non-Bothan individuals seemed to have taken up residence. Gavin drifted off in that direction, keeping his strides even and his head up even though something in his belly made him want to hurry over there.

He looked at the bartender. “Lomin-ale, please.”

A short, balding man smiled over at him. “You should drink the expensive stuff—the Bothans are paying for it.”

“Perhaps, but I
like
lomin-ale.” Gavin accepted the frothy green glass of ale, sipped, then licked the foam off his upper lip. The ale was good, though not nearly cold enough for his tastes.
Bothans don’t seem to like particularly cold drinks, so that’s not a big surprise, I guess
.

The shorter man offered Gavin his hand. “Herrit Gordon, Ministry of State.”

“Gavin Darklighter, Rogue Squadron.”

Herrit shook his hand firmly. “Glad to meet you. I did a tour of duty with the Diplomatic Corps on Bothawui, so they felt they had to invite me.” He pointed off toward a woman who looked positively dowdy amid a circle of Bothan females. “That’s my wife, Tatavan. She learned to speak Bothan, so she’s quite popular among the Bothans.”

“A useful skill, I have no doubt. I only know a few words.” Gavin sipped his ale again. “I came with Asyr Sei’lar. She’s a friend of Liska Dan’kre.”

“I know the family. I liaised with her father on Bothawui. Minor nobles, but they have a thriving trade business to support them, so they wield a bit more power than might be imagined by their place in the formal hierarchy.”

“Powerful, really?”

“She was able to bring you, wasn’t she?”

Gavin frowned and drank again, killing the need for an immediate reply.
I know she didn’t bring me as a trophy
—
she told me that much and I believe her
. “You make it sound as if she’s trying to annoy some of the folks here.”

“Not the impression I meant to make, I’m afraid. Asyr is something of a renegade. She went to school with Liska and some of the others.”

“I know. She told me.”

“I’m sure she did. That school, however, was meant to prepare her for a life as a trader or in a governmental position. Without her family’s permission she transmitted an application to the Bothan Martial Academy and was accepted. She did very well there, and her family is very proud of her accomplishments, but they wonder when she will abandon what they see as adventurism and get a real career.”

Gavin’s smile returned to his face. “I doubt that will happen very soon. Asyr seems very at home in the squadron.”

“Don’t underestimate the pull of the Bothan family structure. Their families are very tightly bound together.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Herrit nodded, then looked toward his wife and paled. Gavin followed his gaze and saw a trio of male Bothans approaching them. The leader stood as tall as Gavin, though he did not have Gavin’s bulk. Creamy white fur and golden eyes contrasted with the black uniform he wore. His subordinates wore similar uniforms, but their fur was a motley riot of orange and black.

The lead Bothan stopped right in front of Gavin, but did not offer a hand in greeting. “I am Karka Kre’fey, grandson
of General Laryn Kre’fey. You were with Rogue Squadron at Borleias?”

“I was.” Setting his ale on the bar, Gavin aped Karka’s stance by grasping his hands together at the small of his back. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Reports on the assault suggest my grandfather was poorly prepared for the assault and made foolish decisions in the battle.”

“And?”

The Bothan’s golden eyes burned with anger. “I would know if you feel these reports are correct.”

Gavin ignored the gasp from Herrit. “In my opinion, they are.”

Karka’s open-handed slap arrived with no warning and caught Gavin over the left cheek, snapping his head around. Gavin staggered back a step, but the bar kept him from going down. He grabbed onto it with his hands, then straightened up slowly. He wanted to shake his head to kill the ringing in his ears, but he stopped himself and instead looked Karka hard in the eyes.

“I understand your being upset over your grandfather’s death.”

“I am upset because you have besmirched his honor.”

“Be that as it may, don’t slap me again.”

“Or?”

Herrit stepped forward. “Please, let’s not have an altercation here.”

Gavin reached out and grabbed Herrit by the back of the neck. He directed the diplomat back to his place at the bar. “We’re not going to have a fight, sir.”

Karka’s lip curled back in a snarl. “You have sullied the honor of the Kre’fey family. I challenge you to a duel.”

Gavin shook his head slowly. “No.”

“You refuse to accept?”

“I will not fight you.”

“Then you are a coward.”

Gavin laughed aloud. Just a year previous he would have leaped on Karka and done his best to pummel him, but his time with Rogue Squadron had changed him so that was
not an option.
Actually, it
is
an option, but not one I’m compelled to choose
. In the last year Wedge and Corran and even Tycho had impressed upon him the fact that what others thought and said didn’t matter—it was the person inside and what he thought of himself that mattered.
That’s what allows Tycho to endure everything he’s going through. He’s got a quiet kind of courage that doesn’t require boasts and defenses because it’s the courage that kicks in when it’s really needed
.

While part of him still wanted to know the satisfaction of using his fist to disassociate Karka’s teeth from their sockets, another part of him reveled in his freedom to ignore the challenge. Because he would not allow himself to be aroused by the Bothan’s taunts, those taunts had no power. They became pitiful in their efforts, and transparent.
And ignoring them hurts Karka more than any physical damage I could inflict upon him
.

Gavin met Karka’s molten stare. “Call me a coward if you wish, I don’t care. You are not my enemy. My enemy is the Empire and its remnants. Maybe you can’t see that. Your grandfather
could
. Strikes me that you honor his memory more by continuing his crusade than in trying to hide mistakes he may have made.” He extended his right hand toward the Bothan.

Karka stared at it as if it were a snake, then snarled and spun on his heel. His subordinates fell into step with him, prompting a sigh of relief from Herrit as they departed.

The bartender plopped a fresh lomin-ale on the bar for Gavin. “To your health, sir.”

Herrit clinked his lum mug against the glass. “You handled that well. Sorry I got in your way.”

“No blood, no report.” Gavin worked his jaw around and heard it pop. “I’ll be feeling that tomorrow.”