Vision of the future

'Aha,' Moranda said from her ship's tiny computer alcove. 'Well, well, well.' Sitting in the lounge just off the alcove, Wedge turned his eyes away from the expensive contour sculp on the wall in front of him, and his thoughts away from contemplation of how Moranda might have come into possession of such a prize. 'You found something?' he asked.

'Could be,' Corran said. Arms crossed and leaning against the wall, he'd been watching over Moranda's shoulder for the past two hours. 'Three messages, all short and encrypted, have gone out in the past five days.' He looked over at Wedge. 'The last one just this morning.'

'What time this morning?' Wedge asked, getting to his feet and crossing to the others.

'About ten minutes before we got there,' Moranda said, peering at the display. 'I guess we shouldn't have lingered over that drink. Too bad.'

Wedge grimaced, a bad taste in his mouth. Too bad wasn't the half of it. With Corran and his Jedi skills along, they might actually have been able to identify and tag the sender if they'd been there in time.

If. 'Where were the transmissions headed?'

'Toward Eislomi sector,' Moranda said. 'Specifically, in the direction of the Eislomi III HoloNet relay station.'

Wedge suppressed a sigh. 'In other words, a dead end.'

'Looks like it.'

'Still, if they've already sent three messages, they might send more,' Corran pointed out. His voice was calm and controlled, without any trace of the frustration and disappointment Wedge knew he must also be feeling over this near-miss. 'If worse comes to worst, we could always stake out the place.'

'A waste of time,' Moranda sniffed. 'If they've got any brains at all, they'll spot a loiterer upwind from sixty paces away with their eyes closed.'

'That depends on how the loitering is done,' Corran countered stiffly. 'And on who's doing it.'

'What, you?' Moranda scoffed, looking him up and down. 'Right. Like you wouldn't stand out like a stormtrooper at an Ewok roast.'

'I thought it was like a Wookiee at a Noghri family reunion.'

'No, no—you're versatile enough to do both.'

'Oh, thank you,' Corran growled. 'Thank you very much.'

'Both of you simmer down,' Wedge interrupted sternly. 'Corran's right, Moranda—he's exceptionally good at stakeouts. However, Moranda's right, too, Corran—we don't have the time or the troops to cover all outgoing transmissions, even if we were sure they'd use the same center again.'

'At least we now know for sure that someone's operating here,' Moranda offered. 'That's something.'

'Not much, though,' Corran muttered.

'It occurs to me, though,' Wedge said, raising his voice, 'that there's still one route we haven't tried. Assuming Vengeance isn't homegrown—and considering its anti-Bothan sentiment, I think we can assume that—they'll have to have found some place local to set up shop. Question: where?' Moranda snapped her fingers. 'A business. Has to be some kind of business.'

'She's right,' Corran agreed, his frustration and miffed professional pride suddenly forgotten. 'An apartment wouldn't work—too risky to have lots of people coming and going at odd hours. With a business, you can always cover it as deliveries or cleanup crews.'

'And working for someone else doesn't give you enough privacy when you need it,' Moranda added. 'And it'll have to be something fairly recently set up, and probably as close to the shield generator building as they can get.'

'My thoughts exactly,' Wedge said. 'And since we can't hit the construction records building until later anyway...?'

'What are we waiting for?' Corran demanded, detaching himself from the wall and heading for the hatchway. 'Someone in Drev'starn must have a list of all new businesses. Let's go find him.'

CHAPTER

19