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Tomer shrugged. “Probably not. We’ll adjust security measures to reduce the likelihood.”

Wedge hesitated, not satisfied by Tomer’s explanations; there was obviously a lot more he wasn’t saying. “All right, for now. What’s expected of us here?”

“Not much.” Tomer gestured at the crowd. “A short speech for the assembly. Speaking of which …” He pulled a round silver object, three centimeters across, from a pocket. It had a clip on the back. By use of the clip, without prelude or request for permission, Tomer fixed it to Wedge’s collar. “This is an Adumari comlink. This one is keyed to the speakers on the poles where the flatcams are.”

Wedge raised an eyebrow. “Flatcams? They don’t record in holo?”

“No, but we have some holocams up there, too, for our own records and to keep our documentarian from going mad. Anyway, please don’t do anything too elaborate with the speech until you’re used to the Adumari dialect of Basic; pronunciation is a bit tricky, and the crowd may not understand you. After the speech, we settle you into quarters, give you some orientation, and you can dress for the ball. That’s where all the politicking and introducing really take place.”

Wedge fingered the Adumari comlink. He didn’t care for the familiar way Tomer had placed it on him, but he decided not to pursue the matter at this time. “We don’t meet the planetary president or representative here?”

Tomer shook his head. “No, the, ah, perator of Cartann offers you considerable honor by not showing up here.”

Wedge said, “Perator is what—planetary president?”

“Well, here it’s an inherited rather than elected title,” Tomer said. “But he has the support of the people through demonstrations of his piloting leadership during his youth. And his absence here means, basically, that he doesn’t steal any of the attention the crowd would otherwise pay you.” He gestured toward the edge of the landing area, where steps led up to the stage. “After you. After all of you, actually. Mere civilians, even former pilots, don’t presume to walk beside active pilots unless invited.”

Janson smiled. “I like this place. I’m going to go shopping for land and build myself a retreat.” He fell in step behind Wedge. “Hey, boss, do you have a speech ready?”

“No.”

“So you’re going to sound like a complete idiot, right?”

Wedge turned to offer him a smile that was more malice than cheerfulness. “Once, maybe. But since I made general and have to do this all the time, I’ve developed the Antilles Four-Step Instant Speech.”

Janson gave him a dubious look. “This I have to hear.”

Once on the stage, Wedge headed to its center and raised his hand with a theatricality that wasn’t really part of his nature—just a by-product of the numerous public-relations tours he’d taken after the death of Emperor Palpatine. The crowd roar increased, but he waved it down and the noise dropped again. He thumbed the switch on the Adumari comlink.

Step one: Remind them who everyone is in case they’ve forgotten. “People of Adumar, I am Wedge Antilles, and it’s my pleasure to meet you at last.” His words blasted out from speakers set up on four strategically positioned metal poles around the plaza.

The audience roared again, but the noise quickly modulated into a chant: “Car-tann … Car-tann … Cartann …” Wedge wondered what that was all about, but dismissed it from his mind. That answer would wait.

Step two: Remind them what you’re here for. “And as a representative of the New Republic, I’m pleased to be present at this historic meeting of our great peoples.”

The cheering became more generalized, with the “Car-tann” chants slowly dying out.

Step three: Something personal, so they’ll know you’re paying attention. Wedge gestured out at the flat display panels. “I must admit, I find this display very heartwarming. It’s possibly the best greeting I’ve ever received. I’ll have to find out if I can replicate it on the walls of my quarters back home.” Some laughter mixed in with the shouting and cheering.

Step four: Wrap it up before you make a fool of yourself. “I expect to have more to say once