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She spun away abruptly, letting the quirt rasp against my throat. “As for pilot challenges, those I will present to you. Within a week, I think, I will have the Survivors spearhead an action for me. Do you think you will be up to that challenge?”

“I will do as ordered, Admiral.”

Tavira turned back toward me, slowly, with a coy smile on her face. “I imagine you will, Captain, which means there is hope for you of a future. Do not displease me, Captain. You won’t like what happens to those in whom I am displeased.”

I retreated from Nive’s office, passing Timmser, who was waiting to go in next, and walked out into the sunlight. I started to head toward a little restaurant I liked, but as I started thinking, my wandering became aimless. So many things had happened in that meeting that I needed to sort them out and figure out how to proceed.

First and foremost I’d had confirmed what I suspected: Tavira’s advisors were Force-sensitive and schooled in some uses of the Force. I was pretty sure my deflection had gone unnoticed, which meant her advisors were not very skilled in that sort of probing. It could have been that their talent for uncovering threats was a passive one, working only on threats directed at them. That meant they were largely reactive, which was akin to being a counter-puncher as a fighter. It’s not bad, but it means you have to get hit first before you can hit back.

The fact that they had detected my Force use in the battle did disturb me, and made me thankful I’d been working to keep my Force-sensitivity shielded otherwise. If Luke’s early assumption that Mirax had been taken to forestall action on my part were true, because my Force presence could identify me, I’d all but announced to my enemies that I was here. The fact that they were willing to accept the Force presence at the battle as that of Luke Skywalker didn’t clear this problem up—it just meant they had no way to differentiate me from Luke for the moment.

It also struck me as odd that I never had a sense of Tavira’s advisors before the probe in the office, or during the battle. If they could detect me, they were within my range to detect them, or so it would seem. They had to be shielding themselves as well, remaining hidden. Given that until a half-dozen years before, being a Jedi was a quick way to slow death, the ability to remain hidden was a virtue. For me, however, this virtue meant I could be standing right next to a dangerous enemy and not know it.

Second, and equally important, I’d learned Tavira did not like being crossed. I blunted the prelude to a proposition, she punished me for it, then told me I’d never defy her again. She did not admit I’d headed her off, and she did not relinquish control in the situation. She clearly felt she had come out the victor, and I didn’t want to know how she was going to reinforce her victory.

I found myself before the Crash and descended into the cool depths. I gave my eyes a chance to adjust to the dim light, then made my way toward the back, to a table where Timmser sat with Caet. Before I could get there, however, Remart landed a hand heavily on my left shoulder.

I turned toward him, shrugging his hand off. “You want something?”

The big man smiled slyly at me. “Just to buy you a drink.”

“Got a special on Alion neurotoxins, do they?”

The bartender, a guy who had enough sores on his face to be from Xa Fel, laughed. “We’re not Margath’s. Sasyru is buying. What’ll you have?”

“Local lomin-ale, thanks.” I looked at Remart. “Why so generous?”

“I don’t want any misunderstandings between us, Captain.” He raised a scarlet brandy in my direction as a salute. “No hard feelings.”

“Sure.” I accepted the ale from the bartender, nodded at Remart, then continued on my way to the back. Timmser slid a chair out with her foot for me. “What’s going on with Remart?”

Timmser snorted and Caet growled. “Sasyru came in to Nive’s office after me, to meet with the admiral and Captain Nive. Came out of the