The characters that have appeared in previous Star Wars novels are property of Lucasfilm, Ltd. Captain Amaryl Assay, Admiral Tesh Dorass, First Officer Azzeh, and the name of Tycho's droid belong to the author. Any other characters presented here that have never been seen in a Star Wars novel are property of Iris Bailey. Do not repost anywhere without the permission of the author!
Tycho entered the dimly lit medical bay on the Paladin. It was a small room, dominated by the eerie green glow of the bacta tank. To the right side of the tank were several hospital style beds, some occupied with injured crewmembers. On a bench to the left of the tank sat Wes Janson, his elbows resting on his knees. He had stripped the top of his flightsuit down to his waist and tied the arms together around his hips. His white sleeveless undershirt took on the green glow of the room and clashed with the orange of his flightsuit.
Tycho figured that he had probably been sitting there for the best part of the two hours that he had spent speaking with Captain Assay, Bror Jace, and the leaders of Thyferra by holocomm.
I can’t remember the last time I saw Wes this depressed.
He walked over to join the Major. Wes acknowledged him with a nod, but barely took his eyes off Hobbie’s floating form in the tank.
"How’s he doing?"
"The doctors say that it isn’t serious. Some hypothermia, a concussion, and various cuts and bruises. He’ll be out in a half hour or so."
There was silence as the two friends stared into the depths of the tank. Tycho leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. A grin blossomed on his face as a thought occurred to him. "How many times do you think we’ve sat by and watched him float like this?"
Wes turned his head towards Tycho and managed a faint smile in return. Hobbie had amassed quite the reputation for the amount of time he had spent floating in bacta, mostly because no one could crash a ship like he could. At one point, a bacta company had even offered him a great deal of money to endorse their product. "I don’t know. Too many times to remember."
"Yeah, and with much worse injuries than this." Tycho looked at the back of Wes’ head. "What is it about this time that has got you so worked up?"
Wes sighed and then remained silent for a few moments. He seemed to be ordering his thoughts before answering. "He’s my wingman, and I am responsible for his safety. I let a TIE get past me to him. If I had been faster, if I had got the squint, then he would be okay. Sithspawn, it’s my fault that he’s even out here in the first place!"
"I think there is more to it than that, Wes. I think that you are transferring your guilt of Wedge’s situation onto Hobbie."
Wes looked over his shoulder at Tycho, confused. "How did you plot that course?"
"Whether we realize it or not, the four of us are very protective of each other, especially Wedge. We’ve been friends for years, through thick and thin. Wedge has stood by us, me especially, when no one else would. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been drummed out of the military and would be piloting a freighter somewhere in the Outer Rim. We have all had our troubles, but we have always been there for each other. This time we weren’t there for Wedge, and it is eating away at us. You especially."
"Why me especially?" Tycho noticed he wasn’t denying what he had said.
"Because I know that ever since you left the Rogues you feel, deep down, like you’ve abandoned Wedge. So now you’re taking a lot of the blame on yourself for his disappearance. Beating yourself up over Hobbie’s injuries is just the latest symptom. Insubordination being another. That isn’t like you, Wes." Tycho sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "What you have to understand is that you are not the only friend that Wedge has. And none of us could have prevented this from happening."
Tycho patted him on the back, but Wes just hung his head. "We all want to bring him back safe, Wes. The burden is not yours alone to shoulder. As for Hobbie, he would have come, with or without you."
Wes leaned back against the wall and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. He sighed again and turned to look at Tycho with dark rimmed eyes. But the troubled look that had been there over the last couple of days seemed to have faded somewhat.
"You’re right." He gave Tycho a tight smile. "Hobbie would have come without me and I without him. And as for Wedge, I think I have been blaming myself for what happened to him and the fact that I wasn’t there to prevent it. It’s just that he’s always seemed to face insurmountable odds and come out the other end in one piece. To have something like this happen seems so...so..."
"Wrong."
"I guess."
Tycho looked towards Hobbie again, struggling with his own guilt over the situation. "Wes, I know where Wedge is."
Startled, Wes spun to face him. "What?! How did you find out? How long have you known?"
"I got a message from Elscol Loro a couple of hours ago. Wedge is being held by a Moff in the Arramsetti System. Once we meet up with the Errant Venture at Thyferra, we’ll be on our way to a rendezvous with her. This ship and the Provider will be joining us."
Wes sagged with relief, as if the burden of responsibility he had been carrying around for the last few days had been lifted from his shoulders.
Just then the technician on the other side of the bacta tank moved over to them. "It’s time for him to come out of the tank."
Wes was on his feet, suddenly full of his old energy. "Well, let’s do it then."
Tycho just shook his head.
* * * * * * *
By the time the Querulous returned to Arramsetti III, Osiel Turpa still didn’t know what he was going to tell Moff Tchlinda.
He traveled down to the Moff’s Palace in his shuttle, knowing full well that he may not leave the Palace alive. He had seen what Tchlinda was capable of and how she reacted to failure.
One thing that Turpa had decided was that being submissive seemed the best way to go. If Tchlinda could feel that she had power over him, then maybe she would let him live, if only to toy with him. If not, he was sure he had something to offer her that would make him indispensable enough to preserve his life. He always had plans to fall back on in times like these. It was the only reason he had been able to rise to the position that he was in.
But he hated to waste such a large ‘favor’ this way. He had spent years gathering incriminating facts about all kinds of people in the Empire. He had used such a tactic to acquire the use of the Interdictor Cruiser that had been an integral part of Tchlinda’s plan to capture Antilles. And now he would have to use another piece of blackmail material to secure his own life, and for a failure that could not possibly have been his fault.
He entered her chambers, and she was there waiting for him. She stood by her window, looking out onto the monument that she had spent the last six years planning and building. She wore the uniform of an Imperial Moff, tailored to accentuate her pleasing figure.
Turpa fell to his knees at her feet, hanging his head penitently.
"Well? Have you destroyed Rogue Squadron?"
"I have not, your Excellency. When we ambushed them, two Mon Calamari cruisers appeared from lightspeed and drove the Querulous off."
He braced for the blow that he knew would come, but was still knocked to the floor with the impact of her hand on his face. He looked up at her to see her face blood red with fury.
"You let them drive you off with two cruisers? You are in command of a Star Destroyer, not a transport ship. You should have crushed them!"
"I thought it best to withdraw before..."
"You did not think at all! You have let Antilles’ comrades escape, and they will undoubtedly know where we are after they identify my ship. You may have ruined months, if not years, of planning!"
"I am sorry, your Excellency."
"I am afraid that is not going to work this time, Osiel. If it were not for the fact that I would not be able to replace you quickly enough, I would have you killed where you stand. I would torture you if I did not think that you would enjoy it." Tchlinda’s chin came up as she took on a truly Imperial posture. "Return to the Querulous and remain there. I will have to re-evaluate your worthiness to govern here by my side. I will also have to consider whether to let you participate in the ceremony or not. Think about that as you circle overhead."
He climbed to his feet and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. He looked her in the eye, no longer wearing an expression of timidity. As he suspected, he would need to sacrifice one of his favors in order to retain his position of power. "Do not send me away, Lathel."
"And why not? You obviously have nothing to offer me."
"Oh, but I do. I can guarantee that your plan to kill Antilles cannot fail."
"How? You had your chance and you let it slip through your fingers."
"I will obtain another Star Destroyer to add to the Querulous."
She laughed at him, but he kept his expression solemn. "You are serious? I was not aware that you had a Star Destroyer hidden away."
"I do not. But I know someone who does. And he will give it to me."
She took a step forward and placed her hand on his cheek. "If you can do that for me, Osiel, I may just forgive you for letting Rogue Squadron live."
She kissed him.
Copyright June 13, 2001 by Susan Hill.
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