Vision of the future

'I saw it.' Klif nodded. 'They've actually got a splice going off one of the power cables, probably ready to go to the new equipment Tri'byia mentioned.'

'But they hadn't opened the wall any?'

Klif shook his head. 'They're not that stupid. No, the whole wall's still there.'

'Fine,' Navett said, shrugging. It would have been handy to have had some of that meter-thick, reinforced, heavily braced, multiple-layered, impenetrable wall out of their way. But it certainly wasn't necessary.

'I'm just worried about it taking another six days before we can spring this,' Klif continued.

'Won't the stuff we left start to deteriorate?'

'Not a problem,' Navett assured him. 'The tricky part now is going to be digging down to the power conduit from that Ho'Din place and then cutting through it without setting off sensors from here to Odve'starn.'

'You think they've wired the conduit itself?'

'I would if I were in charge,' Navett said. 'Horvic and Pensin can get us into the place after hours, but we won't have much time each night to work. Slow and steady is the way to go, and six days should be just about right.'

'I suppose,' Klif said, sobering. 'Of course, that assumes we even have six more days. Or have you finally decided to do something about those New Rep agents?' Abruptly, he snapped his fingers.

'Oh, blast—I just made that face. Wedge Antilles.'

'You're right,' Navett said, grimacing as the name belatedly clicked with Brown Eyes's face. General Wedge Antilles, leader of that multi-cursed Rogue Squadron. A single insignificant group of X-wings that had probably caused the Empire more trouble than all the Bothans in the galaxy put together. 'And that's going to make things that much more awkward. Even without New Republic celebrities involved, a triple murder would create a major fuss.'

He let his eyes drift around the shop, taking in the rows of cages, the subtle mix of smells and sounds. Surely Antilles wouldn't see any threat in a harmless pet shop.

But no. They'd been standing right here when the call came through, and knew he and Klif had been invited into the shield generator building. No, they'd have the pet shop marked now for sure.

'But I don't suppose we can afford to let them poke around anymore, either,' he conceded. 'I guess it's time we took them out.'

'Now you're talking,' Klif said with dark approval. 'You want me to take care of it?' Navett cocked an eyebrow. 'What, all by yourself?'

'Hey, they're just X-wing jocks,' Klif said. 'At least Antilles is. Outside their cockpits they're babes in arms.'

'Maybe,' Navett said. 'But they found us okay. And that old woman looks like she knows her way around, too.'

'Meaning?'

Navett gave him a tight smile. 'Meaning you don't take them out by yourself,' he said. 'We'll do it together.'

* * *

Moranda sipped at her blue-green liqueur. 'I don't know,' she said, shaking her head. 'I can't say that any of them really leaped up and waved at me.'

'That's one way to put it,' Wedge said sourly, massaging his aching temples with thumb and middle finger. Fifty different shops, businesses, service spots, and eating establishments. All of them set up in Drev'starn since the warships began gathering overhead; all of them visited personally by him, Corran, and Moranda in the past four days. The business turnover rate on Bothawui must be astronomical. 'Another way is to just admit we've hit another dead end.'

'I'm not sure I'd go quite that far,' Corran said slowly, meditatively swirling his drink around in its glass. 'There were a couple of places that were definitely more on edge than others. That Meshakian jewelry owner, for one.'

'Stolen goods dealer,' Moranda dismissed him with a flip of her hand. 'And he spotted us right off as anything but casual customers, by the way. You've really got to learn how to rein in that straight-backed CorSec stance of yours,