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Hallis made a cross face. “Oh, something’s gone wrong in his hardware.”

“Oh, something’s gone …”

“I was recording some of General Phennir’s challenge matches out at the Cartann Bladedrome. When the pilots were leaving, the crowd got a bit unruly and I was knocked down. Since then, Whitecap repeats back everything anyone says within earshot. I can’t get him to stop.”

“… get him to stop.”

Janson grinned at her. “Some days make you just want to beat your heads against a wall, don’t they?”

Hobbie said, “Maybe not. The young lady might not have her heads on straight, after all.”

Tycho said, “Still, I think she ought to get her heads examined.”

Wedge looked at them, appalled.

“Pilots,” Hallis said. “How did I ever get this assignment? Who did I offend?”

“… did I offend?”

“Still,” she said, “you’d better be nice to me. I know you don’t take me seriously, but you ought to.” Her expression was unusually earnest.

“… you ought to.”

Wedge sprawled on a sofalike piece of furniture large enough to accommodate three full-sized people comfortably. “Hallis, it would be easier if you didn’t look like something out of a tale to frighten children.”

“… to frighten children.”

“All right,” she said.

“All right.”

She pulled her goggles off and set them aside. Then she reached up to press a control on Whitecap’s clamp; with a hissing noise, it relaxed and the recording unit began tilting from her shoulder. She caught it as it pitched forward, then moved across the room to set it within a cabinet. She closed the cabinet door with an irritated thump; from inside, Whitecap did a credible job of imitating the noise. “Better?”

Wedge tried to make his tone neutral, nonjudgmental. “What is it, Hallis?”

She straightened from the cabinet and gave him a serious look. “Someone rappelled down to your balcony today from an upper story. I think he was doing something to your X-wings. Just scawling something on them, I think.”

In moments, they were out on the balcony, looking over their snubfighters. Hallis followed and slid the main door to the balcony shut behind her. People on balconies all around and across the street called out to them, waving.

Wedge waved back distractedly. He saw nothing changed on his X-wing’s exterior, and there was certainly nothing new written on it. He addressed his astromech, which was still set up behind the cockpit. “Gate, report on any interference with this snubfighter.” He brought out his datapad so the R5 unit could transmit its response to him.

Its screen came up with the words NO INTERFERENCE NOTED.

“There wasn’t any that I know of,” Hallis said. “I lied about that.”

Wedge gave her a curious look. “Maybe you’d better explain that.”

“I wanted to get you out on the balcony. There aren’t any listening devices out here.”

“We know there are listening devices inside,” Wedge said. “We don’t say anything there we can’t afford to have overheard.”

“That’s good,” Hallis said. “I came by here this morning to let you know I’d be recording the Imperial pilots, to ask if you wanted me to look out for anything in particular. But when I got here, you’d already gone. As I was leaving, I saw someone headed toward your door. And your door admitted him.”

“Saves wear and tear,” Janson said. “When the thieves can just walk in instead of having to break the door down.”

“Did you get a good look at him?” Wedge asked.

“Better than that, I got some recordings of him. I followed him in, got in just before the door closed. Hid behind tapestries and furniture while he went from room to room. The one time I got a good look at what he was doing in the rooms, he seemed to be checking up on emplaced items—almost certainly transmitters. Then, when I left, I followed him to where he was going.”

Wedge exchanged glances with the other pilots. Suddenly Hallis didn’t seem so ridiculous a figure after all. Wedge had underestimated her ability, mistaking eccentricity for a basic lack of competence. He wouldn’t do that a second time.

Janson frowned. “I hope you’ll excuse a silly question—but how does a lady