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“You sent him my sensor data, right?”

Sharp scolding whistles followed an affirmative tone.

“I know I didn’t prohibit it.”

A curt squawk made Corran wince. “Yes, Whistler, I did approve your action. Never again give out that sort of data without my permission, got it?”

The little droid piped demurely, then shifted to the singsong tone he had used to warn Corran when Loor had entered the CorSec office. The pilot turned and saw the Headhunter Trainer come through the magcon bubble, followed closely by Rogue Leader. Purposely ignoring Whistler’s bleats, Corran watched the ship land.

“Time to get some questions answered.”

Corran felt a tug at his flight suit leg as Whistler’s pincer attachment closed on the cloth. He pulled away, tearing the material. “You betrayed me once here, Whistler, don’t compound the problem.”

The droid’s mournful tones played out in time with a funeral march as Corran closed with Wedge’s X-wing. He ducked beneath the nose and snapped to attention as Wedge descended the ladder. His throat thick with anger, Corran saluted and held his quivering hand in place until Wedge returned the salute.

“Do you want to speak to me about something, Mr. Horn?”

“Yes, sir.”

Wedge tugged his gloves off. “Well?”

“Permission to speak frankly, sir?”

“Knock yourself out, Mr. Horn.”

Corran’s hands convulsed into fists. “You gave everyone else my targeting data. I flew my heart out and flew that course as good as anyone possibly could on his first time through. You turned that data over to the others, so they were making a run based on the things I had done. You gave them my score as a base and they built on it.”

Wedge’s brown-eyed gaze did not waver as he met Corran’s stare. “And?”

“And? It’s not fair, sir. I’m one of the best pilots in this squadron, but it looks like I’m the worst. The others appear better but they’re not. I’ve been robbed.”

“I see. Are you finished?”

“No.”

“Well, you should be, or you can be. Do you understand me?”

The icy tone in Wedge’s voice filled Corran’s guts with frozen needles. “Yes, sir.”

Wedge nodded past him toward the exterior of the base. “You need to examine why you’re here, Mr. Horn. You’re part of a team and have to act like it. If I need you to shoot a trench like that and feed your data back to a Y-wing squadron coming through, I’ll have you do it. How good you are means nothing if the rest of the people in the squadron get killed. You might be the best pilot in the squadron, but the squadron is only as good as the worst pilot in it.

“Today the others learned to use data from a reconnaissance flight to help them through deadly territory. You learned that you’re not more important than anyone else in this squadron just because you’re a gifted pilot. I’m pleased with those lessons having been learned by my people. If you’re not, I’m certain there are other squadrons who would love to have Rogue’s washouts.”

Corran’s cheeks burned and his stomach turned itself inside out. He’s right—he saw the same thing Lujayne did and found a way to point out how serious a problem it can be. I’ve been an idiot. He swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“Yes, what, Mr. Horn?”

“I’m happy learning what I learned, sir. I want to stay with the squadron.”

Wedge nodded slowly. “Good, I don’t want to lose you. You’ve got the makings of a superior pilot, but you aren’t there yet. You have the skills you need, but there is more to being part of this squadron than flying well. The training you get will be a bit different from the others, but your need to learn is just as great. Do you understand?”

Corran nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Wedge handed his helmet and gloves to an astrotech. “And just so you know, you’re right to be angry. Remember this, though, giving in to that kind of anger in battle will get you killed. I don’t think you want that any more than I do.” The leader of the squadron tossed him a sharp salute. “You’re dismissed, Mr. Horn.”

Corran returned the salute, spun on his heel, and marched stiffly away, deeper into