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Zsinj smiled.

“Then,” the admiral continued, “you’ll jump to join me, and we’ll reenter the system and position ourselves behind the planet’s largest moon. When Rogue Squadron comes in to perform their usual escapade, we’ll finish them.”

Face took a deep breath. “A good plan, sir … but it lacks a little, I think, in ambition.”

Trigit smiled. “What do you mean?”

“Between Implacable and Night Caller, between your TIE fighters and mine, we can destroy more than just one twelve-fighter squadron. If we had a bigger, better target, one for which the Rebels would bring in additional fighters, we could destroy several squadrons.”

Trigit shook his head. “Let’s keep things simple. The destruction of Rogue Squadron will have a much bigger effect than just the loss of twelve fighters and pilots. Their reputation, their legend, will also be destroyed.”

But Warlord Zsinj looked thoughtful. “What sort of target do you mean, Zurel?”

“The Rebels are fairly consistent in the matériel they allocate to various types of missions. If we wish to destroy three squadrons instead of one, we choose the type of site they’d use three squadrons to destroy.” Face resisted the urge to shrug, though he felt his shoulder muscles growing tight from his rigid posture. “A rich target. One they figure is worth some risk in assaulting because of what it would cost you.”

Trigit’s voice rose in protest. “Warlord, we don’t even know exactly how the Rogues are tracking Night Caller. We can’t be sure they will follow Darillian if we vary the corvette’s routine. We have no indication that they followed Night Caller to Morobe.” His holographic image was looking up and to the side, beyond Face rather than at Zsinj’s hologram, but Face guessed that on his bridge he was staring straight at the warlord’s image.

Zsinj waved his objection away. “We’ll make sure Night Caller doesn’t go through the effort to shake pursuit that she did when she joined you at Morobe. We’ll give the corvette enough time to be spotted by Rebel spies. And if even that fails, we’ll just try again until we succeed. No, Apwar, I like this plan.” He returned his attention to Face. “Zurel, stay in Obinipor system but forget about terrorizing Bonion. We’ll worry about inducing his cooperation later. I’ll let you know soon where our ambush is to take place.”

“Yes—”

Zsinj’s image winked out.

“—my lord.”

Trigit gave him a rueful look. “You’ll make a good Star Destroyer captain, Darillian. If your ambitions don’t get you killed first.”

Face smiled. “Yes—”

Trigit disappeared.

“—sir.”

Face turned.

Wedge stood in the doorway, giving him a piercing look. Behind him were a stone-faced Donos and a jubilant-looking Janson.

Face shrugged. “So I improvised.”

Wedge said, “That’s all right.” His voice became a deadon mockery of Trigit’s precise tones. “You’ll make a good lieutenant, Face. If your ambitions don’t get you killed first.”

“Yes—”

Wedge walked out.

“—sir.”

28

Zsinj said, “It will be Ession.”

Face nodded sagely as though he had any idea of what the warlord was talking about. Then his main monitor lit up and words appeared on it—one at a time, as fast as Night Caller’s new communications officer could speak them.

Ession, Lucaya system, fourth planet (Corporate Sector). Settled four thousand years ago. Major center for industrial manufacture. Nonaligned. Night Caller’s last visit was eighteen months ago. No record of Zsinj-related contacts at that time.

“The Rebels will see that site as a rich prize,” Face said. He carefully pitched his voice so that his words could be interpreted as sarcastic if, in fact, that world was not Zsinj’s intended ambush target.

“Which is why you must make sure the site does not suffer too much damage. It would be a costly loss.”

“Whom will I coordinate with on the ground?”

“Raffin, of course, for general details. But he’s too nervous for the real planning. Work with Paskalian, his security director. She’ll set up the site’s own defenses, throw another couple of dozen TIE fighters into the mix, and all without Raffin’s shrill complaints.