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On the command bridge of the escort frigate Yavaris, General Wedge Antilles looked across space. Sunlight reflected off the metal hulls of his fleet. He had asked for command of this mission because he wanted to return to where Qwi Xux had spent so much of her life—to where the secrets of her lost memory might lie hidden.

The Yavaris was a powerful ship, despite its fragile appearance caused by the thin spine that separated its two primary components. At the frigate’s aft end a boxy construction contained sublight and hyperdrive engines and the power reactors that drove not only the engines but also twelve turbolaser batteries and twelve laser cannons. On the other end of the connecting rod, separated from the engines, was the much larger command section, hanging down in an angular structure that contained the command bridge, crew quarters, scanners, and cargo bays that carried two full X-wing fighter squadrons for the assault.

The escort frigate held a crew of about nine hundred seasoned soldiers, while the rest of his fleet—four Corellian corvettes—carried one hundred on each vessel.

Wedge brushed his dark hair away from his forehead and set his square jaw. The last of the troop transports had docked on the frigate, bringing the remainder of the handpicked raiders.

Han Solo had reported that Maw Installation was no longer protected by Admiral Daala’s Star Destroyers, which had been lured out of the black hole cluster to wreak havocacross the galaxy. The precious weapons information and scientists inside the Installation were undefended. Probably. Wedge was prepared for surprises, especially from a congregation of Imperial weapons designers.

On the command bridge of the Yavaris, Wedge toggled on the intercom. “Prepare to depart,” he said. The four corvettes folded around the escort frigate in a diamond formation. Ahead, Wedge saw throbbing blue-white light as banks of heavy engines pulsed to life.

The corvettes’ huge engines were twice as large as the living compartments and the hammerhead-shaped control section. Princess Leia had been riding a corvette when Vader’s Star Destroyer had captured her, demanding that she return the stolen Death Star plans, so long ago.

He watched the light-embroidered nightside of Coruscant veer away from the fleet as they angled up out of orbit, past metallic docking stations and heavy parabolic mirrors that directed magnified sunlight to warm the higher frozen latitudes.

He wished Qwi had stayed with him to watch the departure, but she was down in their quarters reviewing information tapes, studying … studying. Since her memory would not come back of its own accord, Qwi intended to fill the gaps with the missing information as quickly as possible.

She also had a deep revulsion toward watching a planet from orbit. It had taken Wedge much quiet encouraging before she finally told him that the sight reminded her of her youth, when she had been held hostage aboard an orbital training sphere under the harsh tutelage of Moff Tarkin. Qwi had been forced to watch as Victory-class Star Destroyers obliterated the honeycomb settlements of her people whenever students failed their examinations.

Thinking of the terrible things the Empire had done to the delicate and lovely Qwi made Wedge clench his teeth. He turned to the bridge crew. “Ready for hyperspace?”

“Course set, sir,” the navigation officer answered.

Wedge vowed to do what he could to fill Qwi’s life with joy … once they had conquered Maw Installation.

“Move out,” he said.

Inside windowless quarters in the protected lower decks of the Yavaris, Qwi Xux stared into the tutorial screen and blinked her indigo eyes. She skimmed file after file, absorbing the information as enthusiastically as a Tatooine desert sponge grabbed droplets of moisture.

A small portrait holo of Wedge sat inside a cube atop her worktable. She glanced at it frequently, reminding herself what he looked like, who he was, how much he meant to her. None of her memories were certain after Kyp