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“Who has TIE fighter experience?” Wedge asked. “Even in simulators?” He held up his own hand.

So did Piggy, Falynn, Face, and Janson.

“Piggy, how were the simulator cockpits for you?”

“Terrible, sir.”

“All right. I want Wes to remain on Night Caller. Falynn, suit up. You and I are going to buzz the capital of Viamarr 4.”

The somber woman from Tatooine gave one of her rare smiles.

Wedge continued, “Squeaky informs me that there’s a TIE fighter simulator in the stern lounge. Not too surprising, since this corvette is trying very hard to be a pocket carrier. I recommend that the rest of you get some experience in it. We may be flying a number of TIE fighter missions.”

· · ·

Wedge looked over the half-familiar array of controls and monitors, let out an irritated sigh, and flipped two switches. The TIE fighter immediately hummed, indicating it was powering up. “We have two lit and in the green,” he said. Automatically, he glanced to port and starboard, a visual check of his surroundings, and bit back another annoyed remark. There were no windows to the sides; had there been any, their view would only have been of the fighter’s wing pylons and large, hexagonal solar array wings. The TIE’s only viewports were forward and above. They showed endless starfield, reminding Wedge that he was hanging from what until a few days ago was an escape pod dock.

No shields. No ejection seat. TIE fighters were disposable attack vehicles for disposable pilots, and Wedge never cared to feel disposable. “Laser cannon readings nominal. How am I transmitting?”

Jesmin came back, “Sir, until you launch, your communications are coming in over direct connections.”

Wedge grinned. “Sorry. I’ll ask again after launch. Gray Two, what’s your status?”

Falynn’s voice sounded a bit nervous. “Twin ion engines are live and running at optimal. Ship’s systems all in the green. Two laser cannons at full power. Shields—damn. I mean, uh, sorry, sir.”

“That’s all right, I feel the same way.”

“And I don’t look forward to landing this thing. Sir, even in the simulators, I’ve never landed straight onto a docking station.”

“You’ll do fine. Just remember to crank the hand yoke over to minimal responsiveness. That’ll make you feel like you’re crawling along centimeter by centimeter, but you won’t crash into anything on landing. Watch what I do.” Now, he had to match action to words. He cranked the knob on his control yoke down as far as it would go, then cut the connection with Night Caller and kicked in the ion engines.

He drifted free of the corvette. When the rangefinder said he was fifty meters from the ship, he rotated in place, looking back across Night Caller’s belly. On the far side, Falynn’s TIE fighter was also in a slow, smooth descent relative to the corvette’s keel. “Good,” he said. “Ready to fly?”

“Ready, sir.”

“Gray Flight away.” He pulled back on the yoke and twisted its adjustment knob, feeding more power into the engines. The TIE fighter glided smoothly forward; he heeled it over toward the distant planet of Viamarr 4. He was pleased to see Falynn follow him with adequate skill; apparently her simulator time had been put to good use.

A while later they dove into the atmosphere of Viamarr 4 and headed toward Velery, the planetary capital, a community of a hundred thousand on the largest continent of the southern hemisphere. The land surrounding the capital was largely forested, with numerous tiny communities of wooden buildings.

Finally someone was alerted to their presence: “Incoming craft, this is Velery Station. Please identify yourself. Do you read?”

Wedge switched his comm to broadcast in the clear. “Velery Station, this is Gray Flight, escorting private yacht Night Caller.”

“Ah, yes.” The voice became noticeably more agitated. “Gray Flight, please come to heading two-five-five and make landing here at Velery Station.”

“Can’t do it, sorry. Not in our mission parameters.” The mission assigned to Night Caller’s TIE fighters was a simple one: Buzz the town of Velery a couple of times, spook any air traffic,