Myn Donos, the X-wing squadron commander, looked around in confusion.

This wasn't right. He'd been through this already. This mission could lead only to...

Death.

No. He was imagining things. He had a job to do. But what was next?

Tentatively he said, "Leader to-"

d.a.m.n. What was his comm specialist's name? What, in fact, was his call number?

Oh, that's right. "Eight. Leader to Eight. Has there been any change?"

"No, sir. We're the only ones broadcasting. There's nothing on the sensors but us and the Interceptor."

"Thanks, Eight." Eight's voice had changed. It was more resonant and lacked its usual rustic accent. Things were otherwise as he remembered them. Well, that was all right. Eight would be dead soon, anyway.

Donos's head swam as he recognized the simple cruelty of that stray thought.

The Interceptor abruptly lost speed and heeled over to starboard. Donos smiled. Its engine trouble had to have worsened. It headed straight toward the gap between two giant volcanoes, straight toward the trap.

The ambush. They were all about to die.

"Talon Leader to squad, break off! Omega signal!" He rolled up on his port wing and curved in a tight arc away from the volcanoes. Away from death.

The other Talons did not follow. They sped down their destined path toward annihilation.

"Leader to group! Break off! Follow me!"

A woman's voice: "Can't do it, sir."

"Twelve, is that you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Follow me. That's an order! The others die down there. You follow me.

Maybe you can make it out this time."

"No, sir. What does it matter whether I die down there or on the way out?

Donos continued his arc until he completed a full circle. He now sped on in the wake of his pilots. But no matter how much power he diverted to his engines, they seemed to gain on him, heedlessly rushing toward their own dooms.

"It matters, Twelve. Break off." He felt an unfamiliar weight crushing his chest. It wasn't acceleration; it was the inevitability of those pilots' needless deaths. "Please, Twelve."

Her voice turned scornful. "Don't 'Please' me, Lieutenant. If someone said, 'Please live' to you, you'd just ignore him or spit in his eye."

"That's crazy." The pilots ahead of him were moments from entering the pa.s.s between the volcanoes. The pressure increased, squeezing his chest so hard he didn't think his heart could beat.

"No, it's not. You don't care enough about yourself to live. So you don't give a d.a.m.n about us."

"You're wrong. Turn back."

"Swear it."

"I swear it! Turn back!"

The canopy of his X-wing went black and the roar of his engines died. A white slit appeared where his canopy should rise, but when it did come up, it opened on a port-side hinge rather than on a hinge behind him.

Sweating, trembling, he stared into the faces of Face, Tyria, Falynn, and Kell. They wore headsets and somber expressions.

The pressure in Donos's chest snapped. It became a ball of pure rage. He lunged at the faces before him but was restrained by his pilot's harness.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.ds-"

All but Kell pulled away. Kell merely pulled his headset off and handed it back to Face.

Donos got his harness off, stood in his pilot's seat, and leaped at Kell.

The force of his leap, the force of his anger, should have taken the big man off his feet, but Kell pivoted, caught Donos's right arm, and spun Donos down to the flooring almost gently. The walls of Night Caller's lounge, their colors chosen by scientists to be soothing, twirled around him as Kell manhandled him.

But Kell didn't pin him. From his kneeling position, Donos took a swing at the big man's groin. Kell got a hand in the way, angled the blow to the side, and took it on his thigh.

"I'll kill you." The force of his scream scoured Donos's throat raw. "How could you do that to me, put me through that again-"

Kell didn't speak. He was concentrating on Donos's movements, which made Donos even more furious. It was Tyria who answered: "What choice did you leave us? You were just lying there. Trying to die."

"That's my right!" Donos stood and threw his best punch at Kell's face.

Kell managed to get his hand behind Donos's elbow, shoving Donos off balance. Then Kell turned away as if to leave, completed the spin, and Donos felt his legs being kicked out from under him. He slammed down onto the hard floor of the lounge.

"You don't have the right," Kell said. "Do you remember swearing an oath?

"Shut up!" Donos kicked out at Kell, but the other man antic.i.p.ated the move and drew back a pace. Donos's boot fell short and rang on the lounge floor.

Kell continued, merciless: "Do you have the right to mourn a droid so deeply that you don't give a d.a.m.n about Jesmin Ackbar dying?"

"Shiner..." Suddenly all the fight left Donos. Grief so strong it was like a physical thing, like a hole in his body, bent him double.

He became aware that Tyria was bending over him, shaking him. "Myn, don't go away. We need you here. We need you flying. We need you watching our backs. We're your squad now."

"Shiner..."

"What is it about that droid?" Her voice was at once worried and angry.

He looked up at her, saw her incomprehension.

"The last..."

"The last what?" She stared down into his eyes, then she looked startled.

"The last Talon. He was the last Talon, wasn't he?"

Unable to speak, Donos nodded.

"And as long as he was still... alive, you hadn't let them all down, had you, Myn? You hadn't failed the whole squadron? You still had him to protect."

Donos spoke around his grief. It made his words thick. He himself would barely have understood if he weren't speaking. "He's gone now."

"Myn..." Tyria looked lost, desperate. "We need you to protect us now.

We're your friends."

"Don't want friends. Friends die."

"Dammit!" She pulled him to her so his head was in her lap. He stared up at her, hoping she'd stop speaking soon so he could go back to sleep.

"Myn, I agree with you. When I joined the Alliance, that was my motto.

Friends die, so don't make any. Just go out, kill the enemy, and when death comes, I'll know I've done my best."

"Then you know."

"I changed my mind, Myn. When Jesmin died. How could I look her in the eye if I just threw my life away? She fought to live. She'd be angry at me for wasting what she didn't have a chance to enjoy."

Donos didn't answer. He didn't have a reply for her.

"What about the Talons? Do they want you to die?"

"They must."

"Stop that. You knew them. Would they want you to die?"

"Their families would."

"No."

"They'd want me to die because I led their fathers and brothers and sisters and cousins off to some nothing world to die for no reason." He looked beyond Tyria's shoulder to where Kell and Face stood. "He knows.

Muscles there."

Kell said, "I know what?"

"You want Janson to die."

"No."

"Don't lie! He killed your father."

"How did you know that?"

"Someone told me." Donos shrank away from the question. No need to implicate Grinder, regardless of whether Donos chose to live or not.

Kell knelt beside Tyria and looked gravely down at Donos. "I used to want him to die. I killed him hundreds of ways in my imagination. But I changed my mind."

"Just so you could argue with me!"

"No." Kell seemed to sag. He looked tired and years older. "I doubt that I'll ever play sabacc with him, Myn. But I want him to live. Because with him in an X-wing, it means that every year there are fewer Imps and warlord flyers out there endangering my sisters. My mother. My friends.

And the families of the dead Talon Squad pilots will think even better of you than I do of Janson. Unless you kill yourself. If you kill yourself, they'll tell themselves, 'My father didn't even have a chance; he was led by a coward.' If they know you were a courageous pilot, they'll say, 'He died fighting for us.' "

Donos blinked, and for a moment he was far away from Night Caller, flashing at hypers.p.a.ce speeds through the homes of the families whose members he had led to death. As he'd done so many times in the days and weeks after Talon Squad was obliterated. But this time, the faces he saw were not masks of anger and vengeance. Just sadness, sometimes; sometimes they were just curious and reflective faces turned up toward the stars.

"I'm sorry about Jesmin," Donos said.

Tyria nodded and brushed a lock of sweat-drenched hair out of Donos's eyes. "We all are."

Donos looked up at Falynn. "I'm sorry about you."

Falynn came forward. She wore an expression compounded of pain and even, Donos thought, jealousy at Tyria's ministrations to him. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you wanted to get close. I kept you away. I was cold to you."

"I understand why."

"I think I need to go to bed now."

Kell rose and helped Donos up.

Tyria also rose. "Will you be all right?"

"I don't know." Donos shrugged. "Maybe."

"Breakfast is at eight hundred. We'd like to see you there."

Donos nodded. "I guess I'll be there."

On the way back to his quarters, he felt so strange... All the pain he'd known since Talon Squad died was still there, but the exhaustion that had accompanied it seemed to be gone. It was as though toxins he'd been building up for ages had been bled out.

He fell onto his bed and was unconscious in moments.

The others watched him depart the lounge. Falynn followed him at a discreet distance, making sure he made it back to his quarters. Then Face slumped against the lounge bar. Kell sat heavily on one of the long couches. Tyria reached in to the simulator unit to power it down, then sat beside Kell. "Well, that was fun," Face said.

"It worked," Kell said. His voice sounded as heavy as he felt. "And neither Commander Antilles nor Lieutenant Janson walked in on us. We got lucky."