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“No, I want them to scout out the world and decide on one or another plan of attack to take this world away from us. As long as they are seeing what we want them to see, and our agent keeps us apprised of their timetable, they are useful to us. We cannot allow them to act before we have sufficiently infected the alien population of the world. If they strike prematurely, they will never take the world and our efforts to gather them here and present to them the Krytos crisis will fail.”

Isard closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “You will send out the appropriate code phrases to alert our agent that you desire a meeting, face-to-face.”

“Isn’t that risky?”

“I think it is vital. Arrange for it this evening—you will go yourself.”

“But …”

Ysanne Isard’s light laughter came laden with sharp barbs. “You are afraid of Corran Horn finding you, yes?”

Loor knew denying the truth in her question was foolish. “He would kill me if he had the opportunity to do so.”

“But the chances of your running into him here, on Imperial Center, are what, one in trillions?”

“Corran Horn has an annoying facility for beating those kinds of odds and showing up where he is least wanted.” Loor’s frown deepened into a scowl, but not because he resented the fear he had of Corran Horn. That fear was well founded and useful, just as the fear of a rancor might keep someone away from its lair. If Corran had the opportunity to kill him, he would take it and likely succeed.

What bothered Loor more than that eventuality was Ysanne Isard’s willingness to put him in jeopardy by sending him out to meet the traitor in Rogue Squadron. So far information generated by the spy had only been used actively once. That use had resulted in the death of Bror Jace, but things had been arranged so that everything appeared coincidental. That could have been enough to leave Corran without suspicion, but if it was not, then Loor’s sojourn could lead to a confrontation and his death.

To her I am expendable—an opinion I do not share. While she can take chances with me, I cannot afford to take chances myself. Fortunately I am not entirely without resources of my own here on Imperial Center. I will have to take precautions myself. I must prevent Corran from having a confrontation he devoutly desires and one I heartily wish to avoid.

Isard studied him with no mercy in her eyes. “Horn is not what should concern you—assuring our spy of our support is. Without timely and reliable reports, things could collapse and that would not please me.”

“Yes, Madam Director.”

“Oh, and order the collection of some Sullustans. Keep General Derricote happy.” She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Or, at least, keep him productive. The Empire is a house afire and he is the means to smothering the blaze. When his work is done, the Rebellion will have ceased to be a problem. Then and only then will we be able to begin to restore the galaxy to the way it should be.”

21

Though Mirax’s appearance surprised Wedge and had him a bit off balance, Iella took it immediately in stride. She looped an arm through Mirax’s and smiled sweetly. “We have some catching up to do, so you boys just follow along and don’t you dare try to overhear us.” Though her smile remained in place, and she kept a light tone in her voice, Wedge read tension and wariness in her eyes.

“As you wish, ladies.” He sketched a short bow, then followed them to the lifts. They descended in one cage, then headed out onto the rain-slicked promenade. Iella and Mirax chatted and laughed as their path meandered around, entering buildings, stopping at vistas, and going from point to point of interest while always descending. Wedge could tell, from the way they traveled, that Iella made some choices at random, but others with a purpose. With the frequent stops and passes through clothing boutiques that made him feel uncomfortable, Iella made it very difficult for anyone following them to go unnoticed.

Wedge realized that being forced to wait amid racks of women’s clothing samples