The Krytos Trap (26 page)

Mirax’s face brightened. “Or you think you see them walking along in a crowd. You catch a glimpse of them.” She glanced down. “Part of me thinks that we see them because we don’t truly believe they’re dead. Maybe the barrier that separates the living from the dead is permeable as long as there is someone who doesn’t accept death. Sithspawn, listen to me. I’m talking like a glitbiter.”

“That’s not a problem, Mirax, I understand.” Wedge leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “And I don’t think your theory is all that wrong. I don’t imagine we can bring people back to life by hoping, but letting their memories live on inside us is not a bad thing to do at all.”

The Sullustan cheebled something at Mirax, prompting her to spin around in her command chair. She hit several switches above her head, then punched a button on the console. “Landing gear deployed, repulsorlift drives engaged. Kill thrust and set her down gently.”

Liat’s melodic grumble accompanied the delicate thunder of the
Pulsar Skate’
s landing. Mirax slapped a button on the command console and Wedge immediately felt a rush of
warm air as the ship’s gangway lowered itself. Mirax nodded toward the aft and the opening. “After you, Commander Antilles.”

“Thank you, Captain Terrik.”

Mirax smiled. “By the way, I think you look slicker than a Hutt’s slime trail in that native garb.”

“Thanks.” Since the mission was diplomatic in nature, Rogue Squadron had been supplied with clothes like those their counterparts on Ryloth would wear. Because of the planet’s oppressive heat, the natives tended to wear loose, bulky, hooded cloaks over their other garments. The nature of the clothes they wore beneath the cloaks depended upon their occupation. Twi’lek warriors tended to be clad in a loincloth, wrapped leggings to the knee, fingerless gloves, and a highly decorative bandoleer that did still serve a martial function. Their cloaks also tended to be abbreviated, as if their whole costume was meant to show they were tough enough to endure even the harshest of conditions on the planet.

Wedge’s attire varied only slightly from that Twi’lek warriors wore. His brown boots came up to his knees and beige trousers had been tucked into them. To that he added an emerald green loincloth and a bandoleer of the same color. All of his battle ribbons and awards had been embroidered on the bandoleer, starting with two Death Star representations at his right shoulder and ending with a symbol representing Coruscant near his left hip. The crests of the Alliance and Rogue Squadron stood side by side over his heart. His cloak was a darker green than his bandoleer and had been lined with a shiny red fabric that formed two red wings when he folded the cloak back behind his shoulders.

He descended the gangway and looked up. Kala’uun Starport occupied a colossal cavern which had been hollowed out of the heart of the mountain that sheltered it. Above his head lay level upon level of Twi’lek clan warrens, comprising the living quarters and work areas of over 100,000 Twi’leks. He could only guess at what the warrens looked like—according to Nawara, few were the non-Twi’leks
who ever saw them, and those individuals were people a clan had acknowledged as a friend.

The
Courage of Sullust
had landed off the
Skate
’s starboard wing. Nawara Ven disembarked and came walking over toward Wedge. They wore similar clothes, though Nawara’s loincloth, bandoleer, and cloak were all a deep shade of purple. His cloak had been lined with a grey that was slightly darker than his skin tone. “Are you ready, Commander?”

Wedge nodded. “Lead the way.”

Nawara did, and Wedge followed a step behind him and one to his left. “It looks like our welcoming party. Is the Shak clan still the Head-clan here?”

One of Nawara’s braintails ran back along his spine. The tip of it jerked up and down in what Wedge had been told was the Twi’lek equivalent of a nod. “Koh’shak is still the master of the starport. It would appear, from the colors of the individual next to him, that someone from the Olan clan has chosen to greet us as well.”

“Cazne’olan, perhaps?”

Nawara shrugged. “Possibly. I don’t know him. The Olan clan and mine do not mix much—no animosity, just little association with each other. His presence here could be good or could be very bad.”

Wedge smiled, stepping up beside Nawara as they both stopped before their hosts. Nawara Ven bowed deeply, bringing both his braintails down to dangle limp by his knees. Wedge aped his bow, then opened his hands and pressed their backs against his thighs. The gesture was slightly awkward but was meant to symbolize exactly what the limp braintails did: a lack of negative feelings and thoughts about the people in front of him. Without braintails he had to rely on the universally peaceful symbolism of an empty, open hand to make his intent clear.

Wedge and Nawara straightened up at the same time, then their hosts bowed to them. Scarlet cloth swathed the corpulent Koh’shak. The gold badges of his office and clan held his outer cloak closed at his throat, though his round middle poked through the central opening. Wedge got an
eyeful of Koh’shak’s red robe and a wide cloth of gold sash pressed into the double duty of containing his girth and supporting a pair of Sevari flashpistols.

Cazne’olan would have seemed thickset except by comparison with Koh’shak. His black cloak covered a bright yellow robe and blue sash. The gold office and clan badges he wore were smaller than Koh’shak’s, but the craftsmanship on them seemed more delicate and less overpowering. Cazne’olan held his bow for a second longer than Koh’shak, but straightened up with less effort.

The heavier Twi’lek opened black-taloned hands. “In the name of Kala’uun’s Clans, I bid you welcome, Nawar’aven.”

“In the name of my clan, I am pleased to be accepted at Kala’uun.” Nawara turned to his left. “I am pleased to present to the Clans of Kala’uun my commanding officer.…”

Cazne’olan stepped forward between Nawara and Koh’shak, extending his hand to Wedge. “Nawar’aven, you have no need to introduce Wedgan’tilles to us. We remember him from his last adventure on our world.”

Wedge smiled and shook Cazne’olan’s hand. “Good to see you again.”

“And you.” Cazne’olan took a step back and paused for a second before his headtails began to twitch up and down. “You have done much and learned much in the time since we have seen each other. Not the least of which is learning how to dress.”

Nawara glanced over at Wedge. “Commander, I did not realize—”

“No reason you should have Nawar …,” Wedge hitched a moment. The way the Twi’leks ran Nawara’s name together, he couldn’t be certain exactly what Nawara’s clan name was.
When in doubt, go with indigenous custom
. “… Nawar’aven. It was an adventure the squadron had well before you joined it. Suffice it to say it was resolved to the satisfaction of all interested parties.”

“It was indeed, Wedgan’tilles.” Koh’shak stretched the last syllable of Wedge’s name into a whole sibilant phrase of
its own. “And now you are come here seeking satisfaction of another kind.”

“Quite true, Koh’shak.” Wedge half-turned and pointed back at the two Alliance ships. “We have for you some wondrous things drawn from the various worlds of the New Republic.” As he turned back to face the starport’s master, he noticed Nawara and Cazne’olan speaking to each other in low tones, with their braintaiis convulsing wildly.

Koh’shak closed his pinkish eyes and settled interlaced fingers over the bulge in his middle. “I am certain what you have brought will be impressive. Shall we begin our negotiations?”

His offer seemed a bit abrupt to Wedge, and the surprised look on Nawara’s face indicated he also thought something was amiss.
What’s going on here?

Before Wedge could venture a reply, Nawara gently grabbed Wedge’s right forearm. “While the Commander applauds your alacrity in seeing to his needs, we have been traveling for days to get here. He chooses to invoke
twi’janii
.”

Koh’shak’s eyes popped open with the speed Wedge would have expected if the starport master had felt a gun being jammed against a spine. “I welcome Wedgan’tilles and would have granted him
twi’janii
without reservation if I felt he did not find our climate oppressive.”

“Open your eyes yet wider, Koh’shak.” Cazne’olan gestured toward Wedge. “He is a warrior in truth as well as dress. Even in the hot season he would not be discomfitted.”

“Your courtesy in reminding me of that is appreciated, Cazne’olan.” Koh’shak’s words came out light and even, but the violent twitching of his braintails seemed to belie the benign tone of the reply. “Wedgan’tilles, you and your people are to consider yourselves our guests. We will see to your pleasure, then to our business.”

“You are most kind,” Wedge said, believing Koh’shak to be anything but.
I don’t know what he has in mind as
our
pleasure, but I’m certain
his
will be business, and I don’t anticipate that being much fun at all
.

23

Elbows planted on either side of the dataterminal’s keyboard, Iella leaned forward and rubbed her hands over her face. The jolt of excitement she had expected had come, but it faded far too quickly. Fatigue and an unfocused fear flooded through her in its wake. She could feel herself beginning to slow down, but she refused to surrender.

No, no giving up now. I won this one
. She pressed her fingers against her eyelids.
I think
.

She had begun her quest to locate the Duros captain, Lai Nootka, in a most organized and methodical way. She pulled as much as she could about him from Imperial and Alliance sources and compiled a profile of him based on that information. The most complete Imperial record came from a planet named Garqi where Nootka and his crew had been imprisoned for several months on charges of smuggling for the Alliance. Nootka’s presence on the planet had been well documented, and the Prefect Barris, Nootka’s Imperial adversary, had paid dearly for his brush with the Alliance.

Garqi was where Corran met Nootka
.

Alliance files were far more generous in the amount of information they provided. Nootka had indeed moved shipments for the Alliance, but he acted on their behalf only
when it suited him. He didn’t appear to have firm ties to the Alliance—not even as firm as those Mirax Terrik had. Nootka’s distance from the Alliance, yet willingness to work with it, certainly put him in a grey area that might have been why Tycho chose to trade with him.

Iella’s inquiries then went off in several directions at the same time. She started a search for any records pertaining to any of the aliases and various ship identification codes she could find for the
Star’s Delight
. She was less interested in the Alliance material than she was the Imperial records, but she did note that Nootka had not been off on missions for the Alliance at the time Tycho said he met with him on Coruscant.

She also dug deeper into the person who was Lai Nootka himself. The Duros were a race of tall, slender, blue-skinned beings whose facial expressions seemed, to most humans, to be entirely dour. They remained aloof, and it was often said that they lacked noses because they were disinclined to stick their noses into business that did not concern them. Most Duros remained neutral concerning the Rebellion, but a few brave individuals like Lai Nootka dared trade with the Rebels. Only in this did Lai Nootka appear to be different from the majority of his people, which made researching him much easier.

Iella’s greatest triumph was in locating the series of young-adult Duros novels from which Nootka drew inspiration for his various aliases and the new names of his ship. He had mixed and matched first and family names of characters to create aliases for himself, and then for each alias, gave his ship a name that was not associated with the corresponding characters in the books; but everything had indeed come from that pool of names. When none of the aliases she already had for him turned up an Imperial record, she tried inventing additional aliases, using the process she imagined Nootka himself had used to create his new identities. She started pumping these possible aliases through the Imperial computer and hoping for the best.

The computer had reported back a lot of misses, but finally she got a hit. Just four days before Tycho’s meeting
with Lai Nootka, a modified CorelliSpace Gymsnor-3 freighter named
Novachild
entered the Coruscant system. A Duros named Hes Glillto had been listed as the captain of record. No departure for that ship or captain had been recorded, but this didn’t surprise Iella. The one record providing the information about his arrival was in a duty log filed by Lieutenant Virar Needa of Orbital Solar Energy Transfer Satellite 1127
after
Coruscant had fallen to the Alliance and
after
Tycho Celchu had been taken into custody.

Though officially part of their duty, OSETS officers seldom maintained or filed such logs, but from what she could see Needa had been obsessive about it. The log had data concerning incoming and outgoing ships that traveled in-system during Needa’s watches on the station. The lack of a departure record for
Novachild
could have meant nothing more sinister than that the ship had left while Needa was sleeping, but Iella felt in her gut that was unlikely.

She sat back in her chair and looked at the data on the screen again. The fact that no other Imperial records mentioned the
Novachild
or Hes Glillto told Iella the records had been deliberately purged.
And anyone with the access needed to purge those records could easily manufacture and enter the data that shows Tycho was in Imperial Intelligence’s pay. Or, Tycho himself could have doctored things to make it look as if he had been framed
.

Iella slowly shook her head. The information she had was intriguing but essentially useless. She could not prove Lai Nootka and Hes Glillto were the same person. The
Novachild
’s arrival put it on Coruscant a couple of days before the meeting Corran had witnessed, but she couldn’t exclude the possibility that the ship had departed before the date of the meeting. Unless she could definitively place Nootka on Coruscant at that time, she couldn’t prove Tycho was telling the truth.