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“I like the idea of popping up over the last turn and gliding on down in, but that might attract some of the TIEs the bacta boy is lighting up.”

“I agree that going up and out of the valley to avoid that last turn is probably the most simple way of handling the problem, but we go in first to provide the data for others to make their runs. Mr. Jace and Mr. Ven will decide if they want to hop past the last turn or go through the valley.”

Bror Jace came out from around the corner of Corran’s simulator with his wingman. “Valley, I think, unless our fuel estimates are lower than expected because of dogfighting.”

Corran winked at him. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them off you while you squirm your way into the tunnel.”

“I’ll do the job.”

The Twi’lek laid a hand on Bror’s shoulder. “We’ll do the job.”

Wedge smiled. “Only because our near misses will weaken the structure for you.”

“Of course, Commander.” Bror looked at Corran. “Even clean misses must ionize the air and do some harm.”

The Corellian Lieutenant levered himself away from the simulator. “Last I looked, I’ve hit more targets than you.”

Gavin and Rhysati joined the group. “If not for me not holding my end up, Corran would be winning your contest, Bror.”

The Thyferran waved that comment away. “Corran has one more kill than I do. If this simulation is at all accurate, I will eclipse his mark by three kills.”

“So it’s just you and me, head-to-head?”

Bror looked down at Corran. “Just you and me. Head-to-head. As it has always been.”

Wedge stepped between them. “At ease, gentlemen. Let me remind you of two things. First, Gavin’s got the best record for hitting the tunnel, which means the second flight didn’t do so well. Second, that tunnel is our target, not all the eyeballs and squints flying around.”

He rested a hand on each man’s shoulder. “I’ve not discouraged this contest because there’s no way to stop you from keeping score. It’s given you a competitive edge which is good—neither of you has allowed the other to become complacent or bored. A bored pilot gets overconfident, careless, and, rather quickly, dead. And, in spite of planning and promoting this difficult mission, I don’t want to see any of us die.”

Wedge took a step back and folded his arms. For the barest of moments he looked far older than his twenty-seven years. Corran saw the weariness as Death’s fingerprints. Death’s never gotten Wedge, but it’s been close enough to leave marks on him. There’s undoubtedly a nightmare for every pilot Rogue Squadron has lost, and I bet he runs through them far more regularly than he’d like.

The squadron commander forced a smile onto his face. “Back when I first welcomed you to this squadron I told you that most pilots die during their first five missions. We were very lucky in our first three, but it all caught up with us on the run at Blackmoon. Looking at the numbers there is no reason to assume it will go any better for us this time.”

Corran nodded and fought the shiver coursing up his spine. In the first run they had eleven ships to take against Blackmoon’s fighters. They engaged two squadrons then and would likely face that much opposition this time. While the best pilots in Rogue Squadron were going in on the mission, fuel considerations limited their ability to perform.

“I want you people to know I’ve flown with the best the Alliance has to offer. Luke, Biggs, Porkins, Janson, Tycho, all of them. I don’t feel their lack here. This isn’t a Death Star we’re going after, and this mission doesn’t have that sense of urgency. That’s because back then we were fighting for the very survival of the Rebellion.

“The fact is, though, this mission is just as important as either of the Death Star runs.” Wedge glanced down at his hands, then back up. “This time we’re fighting for the future of the Rebellion and all the people who want freedom from the Empire. That’s a lot less immediate than what we fought for in the old days, but in many ways it’s far more noble a goal.”

Corran smiled in spite of himself. The nagging