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She smiled. “That’s plenty to offer me, sir.”

Wedge took a step to the side. “Flight Officer Garik Loran.

Face looked startled, came to attention.

“In our tour of duty since being made operational, you have consistently shown fine piloting skills and an exceptional aptitude for leadership, both in planning and in the field. For this reason, it is my pleasure to convey to you your promotion to the rank of lieutenant in the New Republic’s Starfighter Command. Congratulations, Face.” Wedge handed Face his new rank insignia and saluted.

Face, looking surprised, returned the salute. “Thank you, sir.”

“Flight Officer Kell Tainer.”

Kell came to attention, looking uneasy.

“Likewise, you have shown fine piloting skills and a facility for battlefield tactics that benefit the group. In fact, we have noted on several occasions your pursuit of unusual strategies that cost you the opportunity for personal gain but kept your fellows, and those you are charged with protecting, alive. So I’m happy to convey to you also a promotion to the rank of lieutenant.” He handed Kell his rank insignia and saluted. “Congratulations, Kell.”

Kell returned the salute. “Thank you, sir.” Wedge was surprised to see that the pilot was as pale and stiff as he had ever been when confronting Wes Janson.

Wedge chose not to notice and took another step to the side. “Lieutenant Atril Tabanne.”

The sole surviving member of Night Caller’s officer corps came to attention.

“It is unusual for an officer of Starfighter Command to be able to offer commendation to an officer of Fleet Command—even rarer for one to want to, given the history of rivalry between our services.” That drew smiles from Atril and the pilots. “But our circumstances are exceptional ones. Your record, since joining the Navy, has been one of loyalty and service, and our only regret is that attrition is a part of the speed with which you receive this much-deserved promotion.” He handed Atril her new insignia of rank and saluted. “Congratulations, Captain Tabanne. On your new rank, and on command of Night Caller.”

She returned the salute and looked as though she wanted to say something, but words choked up in her.

“And finally, an award as well deserved as all these promotions. Lieutenant Tainer.”

Kell came to attention again. If anything, he looked more worried than before.

“Recently, you were placed in the unenviable position of attempting to save a pilot who had suffered catastrophic damage. I’m not certain that you’ve ever resigned yourself to the truth that her death does not constitute failure on your part. As a matter of fact, a review of the recordings of the incident by Starfighter Command confirms the fact that your effort demonstrated both unusual courage and enviable piloting skills—a lesser pilot would have crashed in such an attempt. Therefore, I am pleased to be able to present you with a first for Wraith Squadron: the Kalidor Crescent.”

The assembled pilots oohed and broke rank to applaud. The Crescent, always granted for bravery and piloting skill used in unison, was a mark of prestige throughout the armed forces.

Kell gulped a couple of times, did not lower his eyes to meet Wedge’s gaze, and grew even paler.

“Kell, lean down.”

Kell did so, and Wedge looped the ceremonial silk ribbon over his head, letting the award settle around his neck. The medal itself, showing the Kalidor bird of prey in inverted flight, its forward-curving wings bracketing a gleaming amber-hued gemstone, settled against his sternum as Kell straightened.

“Congratulations, Kell.” Wedge saluted.

Kell managed to throw his return salute. He still did not meet Wedge’s eyes, and his voice was hoarse. “Thank you, sir.”

Wedge stepped back and addressed them all. “Ladies, gentlemen, we return to space in an hour. I know that doesn’t leave much time for celebration, but pack in as much as you care to. Not too much for you, Captain Tabanne. We’ll see what sorts of decorative hardware the rest of