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“Two main points really. The first is that we don’t have an exhaust port to dump proton torps into.” Corran ticked points off on his fingers. “Second, their simulated assaults are run against the Pulsar in various stages of construction. Within a year of construction starts, the hyperdrives should be operational. Two months after that, one of the big beams will work, as will shields, gravity well generators, and two of the TIE wing bays.”

“So it can defend itself.”

“Right, but its primary mode of defense will be to run.” Corran opened his hands. “If we can make it run, we stop construction. We can harry it until supplies run out and then take it at our leisure.”

The Bothan Councilor drew himself up tall in his seat. “You mean to suggest that a squadron of X-wings might be enough to scare this Pulsar Station into running?”

Wedge let mock surprise wash across his face. “Well, we are Rogue Squadron.”

“And we were going to let Asyr lead the raid.” Corran smiled. “The fact that they’ve been discovered is going to make them jittery, especially with the New Republic fleet so close by.”

“You overestimate the effect of your reputation, I think.”

“Maybe, but we might be able to enhance it a bunch.”

Mon Mothma sat forward. “What is it you are thinking, General?”

It took Wedge a moment or two to realize she was speaking to him. “You selected Prince-Admiral Krennel as the target of our operations because we had the pretense of murder to justify what we’re doing.”

Fey’lya snorted. “It’s more than pretense. You were there.”

“I was, but that’s not my point. Krennel’s murder of Pestage is not clearly an evil. As you say, I was there, and I was tempted to murder him myself. The other warlords out there have seen us destroy Zsinj because he was an aggressor and attacking the New Republic. Our going after Krennel makes us the aggressor, and something as simple as this murder charge doesn’t carry with it the moral authority that defending yourself does.”

Wedge leaned forward on the briefing table, holding himself up on his arms. “Revealing the fact that Krennel is working on a new and improved Death Star-style weapon does.”

Fey’lya shook his head. “Impossible. We can’t let that news out.”

Leia held a hand up. “Let Wedge finish. He has his reasons, I’m certain.”

“I do, both political and practical. Let’s start with practical: We’re going to have troops hunting for this thing and it would be utterly immoral not to advise them of the threat they face. Moreover, it would be stupid. If they don’t know what they’re up against, they’ll get hammered. And the fact is that no matter how good our security, once word goes out to the troops, it will spread.

“The key thing here, however, is that this news could be very divisive and hurt Krennel a lot. Talk to anyone who ever served the Empire and came over to the Rebellion, and the Death Star resonates in their memory. It’s the embodiment of evil and, sure, lots of folks died when we blew it up, but lots more died on Alderaan and no one doubts the evil of the destruction of Alderaan. Even the most strident supporter of the Emperor—save perhaps Isard—would allow that destroying a moon could have made the point just as clearly as Alderaan’s death.”

Leia stared at the projected Pulsar Station image. “The Emperor’s construction of a second Death Star put a lie to the claim that the first one had been Tarkin’s folly; but the Emperor’s death allowed everyone to shove the blame off onto him. His death absolved their consciences, and they believed that such a station would never appear again.”

Wedge nodded. “Until now. And remember that Krennel has been waging a propaganda war against the New Republic, offering his Hegemony as a refuge for those we’d mistreat. If we reveal this project, folks who are inclined kindly toward him will reconsider. And the other warlords will have to wonder what this station would do to their holdings. If we make this public, we will force a lot of people to ask a lot of questions of Krennel.