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Corran scowled. “Since when was ‘isolated’ made a synonym for ‘safe’?”

Erisi patted his left hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll be with me.”

“That’s something.” Corran flashed her a smile. “How long before we head out, Commander?”

“You’re off as soon as you leave this office. The Forbidden is waiting for you.”

“Is Tycho flying us to wherever?”

“No. General Cracken has one of his people in command.”

Corran nodded slowly. The operation is sensitive enough that they don’t want to trust him with a part of it. “If you can, say good-bye to him for me. And goodbye to Mirax, too.”

“Will do.” Wedge folded his arms. “One last thing—and this is awkward—we need your permission to have Emtrey transfer money out of your personal accounts, slice it through some cutouts, and funnel it into the accounts you’ll be using on Coruscant.”

Corran laughed. “Get receipt bytes and we’ll be reimbursed?”

Wedge chuckled right along with the two of them. “It’s not enough they want our bodies, but they want us to finance the war. I understand there is a budget for this operation, but I know it’s not going to be enough. If things go wrong, having the extra credits available …”

“I’ve had practical experience in this area, and I’d not care to relive it. I’ve got ten you can have.”

Erisi looked at Corran, then up at Wedge. “Is ten enough?”

Corran smiled at her. “Ten thousand is what I meant.”

“Oh, I meant ten million.” She batted her eyes. “Is that enough?”

Wedge coughed into his fist. “I think it will do.”

“Yeah, being able to buy a whole wing of snubfighters could be handy in a pinch.” Corran shook his head. “Do we have to come back after this operation?”

“Have to? I don’t know, but I certainly hope you are able to.” Wedge came around from behind the desk and offered Corran his hand. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, sir.” Corran shook Wedge’s hand. “As much as we need, and then some.”

14

I guess now is the time we will see if this disguise really works or not. Wedge sat back in the starliner’s plush seat, barely glancing at the screen built into the rear of the seat in front of him. On it played little holographic reports about the nature of the Rebellion and the war being fought against it by the Empire. The gist of the reports was to suggest that the battle with Palpatine’s murderers was going well and justice was being restored to the galaxy as victory after victory over the treasonous Rebels was gained.

Wedge, disguised as he was, presented an argument that belied the Empire’s propaganda efforts. A metal mask covered his forehead, right eye, and cheek on down to the edge of his jaw. Part of the mask continued on past his right ear, flattening it utterly, and on back to the rear of his skull. Another piece curled down along his jaw and wrapped around his throat. A round lens set in place over his right eye enlarged it and made it very easy to see how blue the contact lens he had on was.

Surface pressure kept the mask in place, making it decidedly uncomfortable to wear. It also made the rounded edge on his face dig sufficiently into his skin to appear as if the metal had replaced flesh on that side of his face. The mask also unbalanced his head enough that his neck hurt too much to hold his head straight all the time. As a result he let his head loll to the right for the most part, and that added to his disguise.

The Customs official who had come aboard right after the Dairkan Starliner Jewel of Churba entered the Coruscant system stopped in the aisle opposite him. “I need to see your identification.”

Wedge slid an identification card from inside the breast of his black Imperial uniform. He used his right hand that had been encased in black leather. The glove did little to hide the blocky, angular nature of the hand, though even if it had been smooth, the fact that it consisted of two thick fingers and a thumb would have given the Customs man the idea something was wrong. Gentle whirring sounds emanated from the glove as Wedge’s fingers