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Wedge nodded. “Nevertheless, I’m refusing it.”

“As an officer of the New Republic, you cannot do that.”

“I’ll resign my commission.”

“In this period of crisis, that could be construed as an act of treason,” Pwoe said. Luke could actually feel outrage pouring from the Quarren, but it didn’t feel quite right—Pwoe was outraged because he was being refused, not because he actually believed his charge of treason.

For the first time since the meeting began, Wedge smiled; it looked to Luke as though he were clamping down on a laugh. But the smile wasn’t a cheerful one. Luke imagined, with a flash of insight from the Force, Wedge drawing his blaster, a fast, smooth move, and shooting Pwoe right in the face. Luke twitched, his hand automatically seeking his lightsaber hilt, before he realized that this vision was not what Wedge intended to do—just what he wanted to do. Luke found himself startled by the violence Wedge was obviously keeping under restraint.

But Wedge merely said, “Treason. Now there’s a curious charge in this circumstance. But we don’t need to get into that. Or into the legitimacy of your claim to be the Chief of State. Instead, I’ll make you a deal, Councilor Pwoe. I’m going to mention a set of military forces and privileges. Give them to me for this assignment, and I’ll accept command. Otherwise, I’ll transmit you my resignation of commission before you can walk a hundred paces.”

Outrage crept into Pwoe’s voice. “You can’t dictate terms to your superiors.”

“Actually, given these circumstances, I can.”

Pwoe turned to Tycho, who sat beside Wedge. “Colonel Celchu. I’m promoting you to the rank of general. Your assignment will be the one I just described to this traitor …” His voice trailed off as Tycho shook his head.

Pwoe took a deep, long breath. His eyes flicked back and forth as he evaluated other officers in the chamber. He relaxed, settling against the back of his chair. “All right, then, in the spirit of cooperation, I’m prepared to hear what it is you want to ask for.”

Wedge began counting off on his fingers. “First, all matériel currently in Pyria system, including extraneous forces we picked up in our retreat from Coruscant, and any currently in transit here remain under my command for this operation.”

Luke could see, though the councilors could not, Wedge give Tycho a light kick under the table. Tycho opened his datapad and began typing, glancing at Wedge occasionally as though transcribing the general’s words, but Luke was certain that Tycho was performing a very different task.

“Second, I want the Lusankya.”

Pwoe almost rose out of his chair. “The most powerful ship remaining in our navy? I don’t think so.”

“I do think so. And since, once the Yuuzhan Vong decide to besiege the Pyria system, getting supplies will be somewhat problematic, I need a three-month supply of food, medical gear, fuel, and ordnance for the entire force. I’ll give you three days from the time you depart this system for that to arrive. If it doesn’t, we leave. And one other thing.”

Pwoe’s voice turned frosty. “There’s always one other thing.”

“I want the right to communicate directly with any officer in the armed forces, to invite him or her to join us here, and the right to accept his or her transfer—without having to go through the commanding officer.”

“Antilles, you are obviously deranged. You should have been put out to pasture years ago.”

“I was, Pwoe. I should have been left there. And if the Advisory Council had conducted its part of the war with the Yuuzhan Vong in any competent fashion, I could have been left there.” Wedge held his hands out, palms up, a gesture saying, There we are. “Well?”

“Refused, of course.”

“As you wish. When this meeting is done, I’ll order the forces here to abandon Borleias. By the time you can get another occupation force here, the Yuuzhan Vong will hold this world. And, no, I’m not bluffing.”

Pwoe locked stares with Wedge, and whispers began again in the conference chamber. Finally Pwoe