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A shiver ran up Corran’s spine. “What happened here, Lead?”

“I don’t know, Nine.” Wedge’s voice came through solemn and with a hint of hesitation. “Just got a recall order from Admiral Ackbar. We’re to rendezvous with Home One.”

“And then he’ll tell us what happened?”

“Could be, Corran, but I doubt it.” Wedge’s X-wing looped out in front of the other Rogues and began the trip back toward the fleet. “For now, let’s just be glad that, for whatever reason, Thrawn discovered he had better things to do, and let’s be ready for when he decides to come back at us again.”

2

As tired as he was, Wedge Antilles found it a major effort to open his eyes when Admiral Ackbar cleared his voice. The pilot had been seated in the waiting area outside the Admiral’s office and hadn’t heard the hatch open. He started to spring to his feet, but tight muscles slowed him, only allowing him to unfurl his body like a heavy flag in a weak breeze.

“Forgive me, Admiral.” Wedge sheepishly looked back at where he’d been sitting. “I didn’t mean to …”

Ackbar’s barabels quivered as his mouth opened in an approximation of a human grin. “No need for forgiveness. I kept you waiting too long. Reviewing Thrawn’s tactics is fascinating, and other information also demanded attention. The tide of data washed away the time.”

“Understandable, Admiral.” Wedge followed the Mon Calamari into his office. As with any cabin on a starship, space was limited but the large viewports helped alleviate any sense of closeness. A globe of water hung suspended in the corner in a gravity-nullifying field and flashed with a rainbow of fish swimming through it. The water also contributed to the elevated humidity in the room, but Wedge didn’t mind it too much. After all these years of dealing with the Admiral, it doesn’t feel that oppressive.

Ackbar waved a flipper-fingered hand at a chair before his desk, then sat with his back to the black expanse of space. “I want to commend you and your people on the run at the Golan station. While the Assault Frigates finished it off, your people put the first cracks in its shell and otherwise hurt it. You should have your techs get ready to paint a Golan on your fighters.”

Wedge smiled and ran his fingers back through his brown hair. “I’m sure that’ll make the Rogues happy. I’m just pleased you gave us the release to make that run.”

“It was a gamble we needed to make at the time.”

“And it seemed to work.” Wedge’s brown eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe, though, that our assault was what frightened Thrawn off.”

The Mon Calamari sat back and swiveled his chair around to face toward the fish-globe. “It wasn’t—which is not meant to diminish what you and your people did. Part of the delay here was dealing with coded messages from Wayland.”

“Wayland?”

“Apparently it is a world where the Emperor had hidden a cloning facility. Thrawn was using it to produce troops. He was also using a clone of a Jedi Master to help coordinate his military efforts, and this clone was based on Wayland. Luke and Leia were there to deal with him. Leia also has managed to establish a rapport with the Noghri. They are an alien species the Empire had tricked into serving as agents and assassins. The Noghri worked for Thrawn, but when they discovered the Imperial deception, they used one of the Noghri close to Thrawn to kill him.”

Wedge sat forward, the last vestiges of fatigue burned away. “Thrawn, dead? Are you sure?”

Ackbar shrugged uneasily. “There is no way of knowing for certain, since the Noghri assassin has not reported back to his superiors. In fact, they assume he was killed trying to escape from the Chimaera. While it is possible that Thrawn was just injured and a subordinate officer issued orders in his stead, causing the retreat, the fact is that the Noghri have been spectacularly successful assassins. This Ruhk had the same sort of access to Thrawn that Chewbacca has to Han Solo, and if the Wookiee were of a mind to kill Han, I do not