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“Maybe Zonama Sekot’s moved,” Han said. “I mean, that is what it’s known for.”

Kenth rocked his head in purposeful evasion. “Among other things.”

Leia looked hard at him. “Could Zonama Sekot be returning to known space?”

“We can hope.”

The four of them fell silent for a long moment. Wedge gave Han a covert glance, then heaved his shoulders in a shrug. When they had all climbed into the speeder, Wedge, in the front seat, turned to Leia and Han.

“Tell me about Selvaris.”

“Not much to tell,” Han said. “The escapees signaled us, we flew down and managed to rescue one of them.”

Wedge looked to Leia for elaboration.

She blinked and smiled. “Just like he said. It was that simple.”

Han leaned forward in a gesture of confidence. “What’s all this about, Wedge? Not that we ever need an excuse to rescue anyone, but why from Selvaris of all worlds? Most people I know couldn’t point it out on a star chart.”

Wedge’s expression turned serious. “I’ve got a special stake in this, Han.”

Han’s forehead wrinkled in interest. “How so?”

“You can hear for yourselves. General Cracken has requested that you attend the debriefing.”

At the turbolift, Leia and the three Corellians caught up with the medical team that was escorting Thorsh. The Jenet and the meds exited three levels down. Leia and the others rode to the bottom on the shaft, emerging on a secure level, where two human Intelligence officers coded them into a stuffy room. Han had expected the usual mix of spies and officers, maybe a single chair for the subject, but the cabin felt more like an examination room.

The only Intelligence operative in attendance was Bhindi Drayson, whom Han, Leia, and Wedge knew from Borleias and other campaigns. The lean and sharp-featured daughter of a former Intelligence chief, Drayson was considered an expert tactician, and almost two years earlier had participated in a Wraith Squadron infiltration mission to Yuuzhan Vong–occupied Coruscant. For company just now she had a red R2 unit and a Givin.

Exoskeletoned humanoids with tubular limbs, large triangular eye sockets, and gaping mouths set in what appeared to be a perpetual frown of dismay, Givin were a remarkable species. Not only were they capable of surviving in the vacuum of space, but they could also perform complex hyperspace navigation without having to rely on navicomputers. Shipbuilders on a par with Verpine and Duros, they were obsessed with calculations, probabilities, and mathematics. Many believed that if the meaning of life were ever to be reduced to an equation, a Givin would be the first to do so.

Before anyone had time for proper introductions, Thorsh was led into the room. Absorbing the tableau in a glance, he said, “I’m ready when you are.”

With the astromech droid standing by his side, the Givin seated himself opposite Thorsh. Thorsh closed his eyes and began to speak, surrendering the holowafer data he had memorized in an instant on Selvaris. A complex and utterly baffling sequence of numbers and formulas spewed from the Jenet, without pause or inflection. No one in the room stirred; no one interrupted him. When Thorsh finished, he loosed a long exhale.

“Glad to be rid of that.”

The Givin was nodding his scary head. “No soft-body could have composed such elegant work. I recognize the mind and hand of a Givin in coding the message contained in this equation.”

“You want him to repeat any it?” Bhindi Drayson asked.

The Givin shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Then I guess we’re done here.”

Han glanced around in bafflement. “That’s it? That’s the debriefing?”

Wedge nodded his chin to the Givin and the droid. “The rest is up to them.”

Han and Leia had just found seats in the mess hall when Major Ummar brought word that General Cracken was ready to conduct the briefing.

“So much for a real meal,” Han said.

Leia sighed. “I’ll have Threepio prepare us something later.”

“The perfect appetite suppressant.”

By the time the Solos arrived, the base’s tactical