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Then the big man straightened and Janson recognized him. “Sithspit! Tainer, you almost gave me a heart attack! Where did you come from?”

“I’m a Wraith, aren’t I? We strike from nowhere.” Kell’s face wore a weird expression, a combination of intensity and bafflement that made the flesh crawl on Janson’s neck.

“What do you want?”

“Why didn’t you turn him in?”

“Who?”

“Myn Donos.”

“For what?”

“Don’t. Just don’t. I know you know.”

Janson let his face settle into determined lines. “Then you know why.”

“You’re giving him a chance.”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll be damned. I didn’t think you’d do that. For anyone.”

“What do you mean?” Janson didn’t bother to hide his confusion.

“I thought, I always thought, with you it was one real mistake, and boom.”

“Boom.” Realization hit Janson like the bow wave of a proton explosion. “No, Tainer. Not with Myn. Not with your father. Not with anyone.”

“I never would have believed that before just a moment ago.”

“But you do believe it now?”

Kell looked away from Janson for several long moments, finally meeting the lieutenant’s eyes again. “Janson, you’re always going to be the man who killed my father. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at you without that coming to mind. But maybe, the other stuff—everything I thought went with it, Janson the Killer, Janson the Lurker—maybe that was just a kid’s fears.”

Kell crouched. Janson stepped to the side, bracing himself for the leap of attack, but Kell jumped straight up, scrambling into an overhead shaft.

Janson watched the pilot’s booted feet disappear. Kell’s face did not reappear overhead. Janson turned away and headed back toward his own quarters, rattled.

20

Twelve X-wing snubfighters roared down into the atmosphere.

This was a dark world with a polluted sky, its atmosphere formed from gases and smoke hurled from hundreds of active volcanoes. Four kilometers ahead, the TIE Interceptor, fastest fighter of the Imperial forces, was distantly visible; it stayed well ahead of the X-wings, though the sparks and gouts of smoke issuing from its engines, unseen but reported by sensors, suggested it could soon lose speed.

Myn Donos, the X-wing squadron commander, looked around in confusion. This wasn’t right. He’d been through this already. This mission could lead only to …

Death.

No. He was imagining things. He had a job to do. But what was next?

Tentatively he said, “Leader to—”

Damn. What was his comm specialist’s name? What, in fact, was his call number?

Oh, that’s right. “Eight. Leader to Eight. Has there been any change?”

“No, sir. We’re the only ones broadcasting. There’s nothing on the sensors but us and the Interceptor.”

“Thanks, Eight.” Eight’s voice had changed. It was more resonant and lacked its usual rustic accent. Things were otherwise as he remembered them. Well, that was all right. Eight would be dead soon, anyway.

Donos’s head swam as he recognized the simple cruelty of that stray thought.

The Interceptor abruptly lost speed and heeled over to starboard. Donos smiled. Its engine trouble had to have worsened. It headed straight toward the gap between two giant volcanoes, straight toward the trap.

The ambush. They were all about to die.

“Talon Leader to squad, break off! Omega signal!” He rolled up on his port wing and curved in a tight are away from the volcanoes. Away from death.

The other Talons did not follow. They sped down their destined path toward annihilation.

“Leader to group! Break off! Follow me!”

A woman’s voice: “Can’t do it, sir.”

“Twelve, is that you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Follow me. That’s an order! The others die down there. You follow me. Maybe you can make it out this time.”

“No, sir. What does it matter whether I die down there or on the way out?”

Donos continued his arc until he completed a full circle. He now sped on in the wake of his pilots. But no matter how much power he diverted to his engines, they seemed to gain on him, heedlessly rushing toward their own dooms.

“It matters, Twelve. Break off.” He felt an