A spark of anger showed in Rozhdenst's eyes, amus-ing Kuat even more. He knew that his comment had struck home. The only reason that this particular collec-tion of Rebel Alliance craft was here rather than on their way to Sullust to join up with the others preparing for the imminent confrontation with the Imperial Navy was that they were too beat-up or outmoded to represent much of a tactical threat against a well-armed and prepared enemy. Most of them were old Y-wings, representing the previous-generation technology that the Imperial Navy's advanced TIE fighters and Interceptors would be capable of chewing up and dispersing into flaming shards within the first seconds of a tactical encounter.
"I have to wonder," Kuat continued maliciously, "whether the Rebel Alliance command sent you and your squadron here to accomplish anything at all, or whether patrolling Kuat Drive Yards is just a convenient excuse for getting you all safely out of the way, so you won't needlessly interfere with the actual fighters, once the bat-tle starts." The felinx sensed its master's amusement and purred in happy agreement. "I imagine that Mon Mothma has more important things to worry about than how to deploy a so-called squadron that's really little more than laser-cannon fodder."
The glower on Gennad Rozhdenst's face was nearly as deep as the disfiguring scar. "My men and their craft can take care of themselves."
"I have little doubt of that, Commander. It's just a question of whether they can accomplish anything else.
Your loyalty to them is impressive, if not unexpected. And of course, the reasons that the Rebel Alliance com-mand put you in charge of them are perfectly under-standable. It speaks volumes about the advanced moral nature of the Rebel leaders that they would be concerned to find an assignment suitable for someone whose mili-tary career has not been crowned, so to speak, with con-spicuous amounts of glory."
In Rozhdenst's eyes, the spark turned darker and smoldering. He made no reply.
"Bad luck can happen to anyone, Commander. I can attest that often that which makes one a hero is a simple matter of chance and fortune—though some would say that the true hero makes his own chances. But that's a lot to be asked of anyone. So your own history—your fail-ures, the crashes and the dogfights that the other creature won—are certainly excusable."
Kuat saw that he had succeeded, though; it was clear that he had managed to goad the Alliance commander into a barely controlled fury. Just what I wanted, he thought with satisfaction. He had never been overly im-pressed with hoary old Jedi blather, but he did believe in the time-tested negotiator's maxim that to anger some-one was to own him.
That anger manifested itself in the form of Com-mander Gennad Rozhdenst striding right up to Kuat and jabbing a blunt forefinger into his chest. "Let's get some-thing straight, Kuat. I got my orders to come here straight from Mon Mothma herself, after I had rounded up this squadron that you think so little of—and that was on her direct orders as well. I scoured every system in this galaxy for every operational remnant, every shot-down fighter and support craft we could lay our hands on, and every orphaned Alliance pilot who'd had to be left behind by his previous outfit. We got our Scavenger Squadron up and flying without any help from techni-cians like you, since your chasing after your own profits kept you just a little too busy for something like that."
The forefinger poked harder into the front of Kuat's regulation KDY coveralls. "My squadron and I were already on our way to Sullust—on Admiral Ackbar's orders—when he was overruled by Mothma and the rest of the Alliance high command and instructed to send us here."
"So I've already heard." Kuat pushed the other man's hand to one side and away from himself. "It seems that there are others inside your Alliance who have a more discerning analysis, shall we say, of the strategic value of your squadron."
"What they have, Kuat, is a pretty keen idea of what they can expect from somebody like you. They know ex-actly how much business that your corporation has done with the Empire." Rozhdenst made a dismissive gesture toward the construction docks visible through the arch-ing panels of transparisteel.
"This whole place would've probably gone broke and been dismantled for scrap if it hadn't been for Palpatine and Vader steering so many procurement contracts your way. You've got a lot to be grateful to them for, don't you? That entire fleet that's nearing completion in your docks is a commission for the Imperial Navy—and the payment for it will put a nice pile of credits in your world's accounts. And that's all that concerns you, right? You've said as much your-self, just now."
"I'm glad to see you've been listening, Commander. That's the kind of observational skill I wouldn't have ex-pected from my previous investigations into your record."
"Don't crack wise with me." Rozhdenst had regained a small measure of self-control. "It would've been better for you—and for Kuat Drive Yards—if we had been able to even pretend to be on a friendly basis. But no amount of hostility on your part—and no amount of affection for the Empire that pays you and your corpo-ration such a handsome wage—is going to stop my squad-ron and me from doing what we were sent here to take care of."
"Which is, exactly?" Kuat resumed his stroking of the felinx's silken fur. "Neither the necessity for it, or the de-tails, have been made clear to me."
"Very well." Rozhdenst gave a curt nod. "Mon Mothma and the rest of the Rebel Alliance high com-mand recognize the long-term strategic importance of Kuat Drive Yards. Not just for what your corporation is capable of doing in the future, but for the armaments and ships that are in your construction docks at this mo-ment. None of us in the Rebel Alliance have any doubts that you are fully willing to shift your allegiances to whichever force emerges victorious from the coming bat-tle, and all the ones that shall follow. As you've indi-cated, you have Kuat Drive Yards' best interests at the center of your thoughts. But if events go as I believe they will at Endor—and how I wish I could be there to see it!—then the Empire is going to need replacements for its operational fleets as soon as possible, and taking delivery of what you've built for them here will be the fastest way of accomplishing that. The Empire knows that, you know that—and we know it. Which is the whole reason we're here. The Scavenger Squadron is going to be keeping an around-the-chronometer vigil on everything that hap-pens here at Kuat Drive Yards; there's not going to be much that we're going to miss. And I promise you"—the commander's jabbing finger stopped an inch short of Kuat's chest—"when word comes from Endor about what's happened out there, and the Imperial Navy tries to take possession of the completed ships in your docks—" Rozhdenst shook his head. "It's not going to happen. The Rebel Alliance command may have decided that they've got enough forces available, out at Sullust, that they can spare my pilots for this detail and still be able to beat whatever Palpatine and his underlings can come up with. Fine; that's a strategic decision and I'm satisfied to go along with it. But it also means that Mon Mothma is confident that my raggedy, patched-together outfit can take of business here."
"Indeed." Kuat raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure you'll make a valiant attempt at it."
"Oh, we'll do more than that. Since we'll be missing the action out at Endor, my squadron will be ready to do some serious damage of their own, right here. If any Imperial forces show up and try to get hold of those ships, or if any of your KDY transport crews think they'll be able to pilot them out to some rendezvous point and deliver them, there'll be hell to pay. You can bank on that."