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Wedge snorted out a quick laugh. “Crumbs don’t fall far from the Hutt’s mouth, Booster.”

“Thanks a lot, Wedge.” Mirax gave him a hard stare, but softened it with a smile.

“Sorry, Mirax. Winter, what are the chances that Courage and Fidelity are still out there?”

“Won’t have any way of estimating that until we get a look at Valiant’s inner workings. Emtrey thinks he can find a way in, and he now has Whistler helping him slice some code. Zraii is nearly shedding his carapace over a chance to work on the Valiant, so my guess is that they’ll have it open and functioning to our satisfaction within a couple of weeks.”

“That’s something, then.” Wedge glanced at Booster. “You want the Valiant, or is it too small for you?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else who is better suited to commanding it.” Booster forced a yawn. “Overseeing a crew of droids would be more boring than I care to imagine. You should give the job to that protocol droid of yours.”

Corran laughed. Trying to visualize Emtrey on the bridge of a ship issuing commands produced ridiculous images in his mind. “By the time he informed his crew of his qualifications, they’d mutiny.”

Wedge and the others who had worked with Emtrey joined Corran in laughter. Wedge ended his laugh with a cough, then cleared his throat. “I think Emtrey is better suited to be an Executive Officer, not a Commander. I do think, however, we’ve got someone who has the skills we need and could get more out of a droid crew than anyone else.” He reached out with his right hand and touched Aril Nunb on her left shoulder. “You’ve flown more than fighters. Interested in commanding a War Cruiser?”

Her deep red eyes widened in surprise, then she nodded. “That’s a job I can handle. I may need Emtrey to help me.”

“He’s all yours.” Wedge gave her a nod, then smiled at the others. “Okay, I think we’ve got some directions in which we can head and some operations to plan. We got lucky this time, but from here on out, we manufacture luck. The good we’ll keep and the bad will go to Isard. She missed her best chance to kill us off, and I see no reason to give her another one.”

26

The apathetic mask Fliry Vorru had fitted onto his face cracked. He’d managed to keep his expression utterly impassive as Ysanne Isard dressed down Erisi Dlarit. Both women had maintained rigid control at first, wielding civility and titles with razor-kiss efficacy. Polite phrasings bottled up vitriol; but Vorru knew if he’d tossed a pair of lightsabers between them, they’d have minced each other in a nanosecond.

Then Ysanne Isard had said, “High Admiral Teradoc has withdrawn the Aggregator from my service and that is your fault!”

Erisi exploded. “My fault? What algorithm did you use to calculate that conclusion? Sir.”

“The calculations were simple enough that I would have thought any provincial mind could have grasped them.” Isard’s eyes narrowed as her hands balled into fists. “Your pilots were on both the Aggregator and the Corrupter. It was your pilots who were supposed to deal with the snubfighter threat. They failed, costing me the Corrupter and now making me the laughingstock of the galaxy. Teradoc had the gall to say to me that he’d only lend me toys if I would promise they would not return broken! The Emperor would have had his guts for floss over such a remark. Because of you, I am subject to such indignities!”

“Begging your pardon, but the orders placing my pilots on those ships came from you. I asked you to use our Elite pilots for the mission, but you picked a green unit.”

“Their evaluations—reports you prepared—were outstanding.”

“Yes, but they’d not seen combat before.” Erisi’s blue eyes burned intensely. “You sent them out after a unit that is arguably the best fighter squadron in the galaxy.”

Isard raised an eyebrow. “Even with your participation no longer needed or welcome?”

The sniped quip seemed to pass unnoticed by Dlarit, but Vorru had no doubt she’d cataloged it. “My Elite Squadron is the equal of Rogue