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“I see. Very encouraging.” Ackbar consulted his datapad again. “Fifth … Could you relieve Flight Officer Ackbar of duty for a few minutes, so that my niece and I might visit?”

“Consider it done, sir.”

There weren’t many places to go on the cramped Night Caller. Jesmin led her uncle first to the bow lounge and was lucky enough to find it unoccupied.

“You will understand my surprise,” the admiral said, “when first I hear that Commander Antilles is assembling a squad of pilots who are chronic misfits … and shortly thereafter I see your name on the list of pilots assigned to that squad. I am not displeased to see you serving with him … but I do not understand. Your record is spotless, exemplary.”

Jesmin gave him the barbel-twitch of knowing amusement. “My record shows I am a complete failure, Uncle.”

“No.”

“Try to understand. I was first in my class on graduation. Then, whatever unit I was assigned to, whatever type of fighter or field of engagement, I ended up flying routine scouting missions … or desk assignments.”

“With your marks?”

“With my name, Uncle. My commanders were afraid of putting me in the line of fire, for fear that I’d be killed … and that you’d blame them.”

The admiral rolled his eyes in different directions. “That is preposterous. General Cracken’s son Pash has been in the path of danger since he joined the military. He even flew with Rogue Squadron, hardly the safest place in our armed forces.”

“Perhaps there’s still some Imperial-style overprotective-ness of females—or contempt for us—also at work, Uncle. But preposterous or not, I was a waste of training. I wasn’t doing anything. I can’t tell you how happy I was when Commander Antilles accepted me to the new squadron … and how much happier I was the first time I was put out in the line of fire. Finally, I am a pilot instead of a waste of volume.” She gave him a steady look. “If I do come to my death in this unit, I hope you will not hold it against Commander Antilles.”

“Are you happy here?”

“I am.”

“Then I will hold him blameless. But if you do everything he says and learn whatever he tries to teach you, you might not ever give me cause for such grief.”

“I’ll try, Uncle.”

After the last of the prisoners had been transferred over to Home One, the next shuttle trip brought them their new crew for Night Caller. Wedge was introduced to a small, neat man with a weathered face, Captain Choday Hrakness of Agamar, the new ship’s captain, and to a tall, elegant-looking brown-haired woman of Coruscant, Lieutenant Atril Tabanne, his second-in-command, as well as to a number of technicians and mechanics.

Together they all watched Borleias and Home One jump out of system, then they set about reorganizing Night Caller.

The expanded mechanics crew, under Cubber’s direction, reinforced the brackets holding the X-wings in the bow hold, making them steadier and more durable.

Officers and crew were assigned permanent quarters. Since many of the former crew of Night Caller had been stormtroopers and had not been replaced by New Republic ground troops, their departure left the ship comparatively empty. Every pilot received his own small stateroom, and Wedge, as commanding officer of a provisional group that now included the corvette, Wraith Squadron, and Rogue Squadron, was obliged to accept the huge and garishly over-decorated captain’s cabin. He immediately sent the velvet drapes and antique furnishings collected from around the galaxy off to the hold and converted the captain’s private audience chamber into a second conference room.

Meanwhile, the pilots settled into a new routine.

For Kell, it was less than a pleasant one. Night Caller was a much smaller environment than Folor Base, and consequently he could not avoid running into Wes Janson several times a day. Most were simply incidents of passing one another in the hall, but even those brief and innocuous encounters brought cold fear to his belly and the lockup of all the muscles in his