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“Point taken.”

Tycho nodded. “The station would make for a good staging area. If Pash were to report that it had been rendered uninhabitable, then Isard might be led to believe it’s junk. There’s no doubt in my mind that at some point she’ll find out where we are and come after us, but an operational space platform has to be a bit more daunting than a skyhook or a warehouse here on Coruscant.”

“Definitely seems like this is our best choice.” Wedge nodded, then smiled at Pash. “Thanks a lot. You’ve solved one of our major problems. We now have a home.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” Pash smiled broadly. “I ship out at the end of the week. I’ll be back in an A-wing, but that’s not so bad. We’ll keep the station safe for you until you can come out and take possession, and we’ll transmit reports about its destruction just to keep folks guessing.”

“I appreciate it.” Wedge frowned for a moment. “Pash, when you joined Rogue Squadron, you said you wanted to join to get a perspective on how well you fly and fight. You wanted to be part of the best unit going to find out if you really were as good as you have been told you are. Did you get that perspective? Are you comfortable going back to your own unit?”

Pash sat back, his brows knitted with concentration. “I think I did get that perspective, Wedge. Granted, I’ve only been with the Rogues for a short time, but we did some fairly nasty flying. I don’t think any fight I’ve been part of before or since flying a Headhunter through a blacked-out city in the middle of the mother of all thunderstorms will match that experience. That was flying by instinct, by skill, and by luck. I made shots and pulled maneuvers I never would have thought possible. After that performance I almost wish there was another Death Star up there for me to take a shot at.”

“I’d not go that far, Pash.” Wedge shared a grin with Tycho. “You are good, very good. The Imps have every right to fear you.”

“Thanks, Wedge. It means a lot coming from you.” The pilot brushed fingers back through his red hair. “As for my being comfortable returning to my unit, yeah, I’m okay there, too. One thing being with Rogue Squadron taught me is that to be a unit, everyone has to pull their own weight. I’ve been afraid that my people wouldn’t think for themselves and would follow me into disaster if I make a mistake. What I’d missed is exactly what you do. You give your people responsibilities and make them rely on each other. If we’d just followed your lead while on Coruscant, the Imps would still own this world. I need to do just that with my people. If I give them responsibility, they’ll learn that I trust them. Once they realize that, they’ll also trust in themselves and won’t follow me blindly when I do something stupid.”

Wedge stood and offered Pash his hand. “You’ll be sorely missed, Captain Cracken, but our loss is your unit’s gain. We’ll see you soon at the Yag’Dhul station.”

“Thanks, Wedge, Tycho. I look forward to seeing you there.”

The door closed behind Pash, prompting Wedge and Tycho to exchange glances again. “Well, Tycho, it seems our housing problem is solved. Now all we need is a dozen or more X-wings, munitions for same, droids, techs, foodstuffs, and other supplies, not to mention all the equipment necessary to repair any damage to our new base.”

Tycho winced. “That’s quite the tall order. Dare I say it?”

“What?”

“I wish we had Emtrey to help us put this whole package together.”

Wedge smiled as he thought of the black 3PO droid with a spaceport controller droid’s clamshell head. Installed as the unit’s Quartermaster, the droid had really been meant to keep an eye on Tycho in case he was a spy in the Empire’s control. Despite his espionage duties, he had been a wonder at procuring supplies in a timely manner. Even so, he could be annoyingly voluble, which is why Wedge spent as much time as possible away from him.

Wedge sighed. “Yeah, I guess I miss him, too.” He shrugged. “In his absence, I guess we’ll just