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A man wearing a red helmet and an orange jumpsuit waved both hands at them as he came running over. “You can’t be here. Get going or I call for stormtroopers.”

Wedge leaned forward and frowned, tapping the metal over his right ear. “I cannot hear you.”

“I SAID …”

“Too much noise.”

The workman frowned, then bid all of them to follow him with a curt wave. He led them into a small foyer just outside the command center. The door closed behind them, cutting the noise almost to nothing. “You can’t be here.”

“I am Colonel Antar Roat and these are my aides. I have come for a safety inspection.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

Mirax gave the man a withering stare. “Of course not, idiot. If you did, this inspection wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Iella held a hand out. “Your identification and work permits please.”

“Wait.” The man went for the identification cards and held them out. “I should check with …”

Iella snatched the datacards from him. “Compounding the possible charges against you? Is there a conspiracy between you and your cohorts? How much do they pay you for your part in the smuggling operation?” Iella paced around him like a Thevaxan Marauder stalking prey.

“What smuggling?” The man’s hands came up as he turned to face her. “I don’t know no …”

Wedge’s boxy right hand crashed onto the back of the man’s head, dropping him to the ground. Iella immediately turned to the interior door while Mirax let Emtrey into the foyer. The droid held blaster carbines for each of the others and passed them out carefully. Iella checked hers, then passed the downed man’s identification card through the coded slot.

The door buzzed. Iella jerked it open and Wedge and Mirax hurried through it, brandishing their weapons at the trio of men lounging at a hologame table. Beyond them, filling the walls of the rectangular command center, mojiitors, gauges, dials, and lights displayed an unending amount of information about every phase of the construction droid’s operation. The multicolored lights tended mostly to be green, which underscored the sick pallor of the men’s flesh tones.

“Lie down on the floor and no one gets hurt.” Mirax pointed her carbine at the men and smiled. “I ask once—after that I have the droid pitch your bodies off the front and you’ll end up as compost in some Ithorian’s indoor garden, understand? That’s it, hug that deck and you won’t have to be enlightened.”

Iella held the door open as Wedge went back through and dragged the unconscious man into the cockpit. The other three looked shocked to see him down, but his snores reassured them somewhat as to their own fate. Iella used some synthetic binders to fasten their hands behind their backs and link their legs together. “They can be tightened, gentlemen, so rest easy and there will be no need to make you more uncomfortable.”

While Iella took over covering the men, Wedge removed his mask and joined Mirax at the command console. “Can you drive this thing?”

Mirax tipped her head to one side, then the other, hesitated, then nodded. “It’s a bit more complex than the one I’ve used before, but I think Emtrey can help me through this. Emtrey, bring this monster around on a new heading for our target.”

“Yes, Mistress Terrik. There, new course is set.”

The main viewscreen showed a nighttime landscape of lights and shadows begin to scroll across as the construction droid executed a ninety-degree turn toward the south. In the distance, between two stocky office towers, Wedge made out the squat form of Subsidiary Computer Center Number Four. “Right on target.”

“Good.” Mirax looked up and hit a glowing red button. The light started flashing red.

“What’s that?”

“All government buildings are required to have evacuation alarms in the case of a catastrophe.”

Wedge smiled. “Like a construction droid bearing down on it?”

“It’s easy to see how you got that squadron command, Wedge.” Mirax poked him playfully in the stomach with an elbow. “The alarms are going off in every building for ten kilometers along our line of advance. The same evacuation alarms