Star Wars - [X-Wing 01] - Rogue Squadron (by Michael A Stackpole)

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You're good, Corran, but you're no Luke Skywalker. Corran Horn's cheeks still

burned at the memory of Commander Antilles's evaluation of his last simulator

exercise. The line had been a simple comment, not meant to be cruel nor

delivered that way, but it cut deep into Corran. I've never tried to suggest I'm

that good of a pilot.

He shook his head. No, you just wanted it to be self-evident and easily

recognized by everyone around you. Reaching out he flicked the starter switches

for the X-wing simulator's engines. "Green One has four starts and is go." All

around him in the cockpit various switches, buttons, and monitors flashed to

life. "Primary and secondary power is at full."

Ooryl Qrygg, his Gand wingman, reported similar start-up success in a

high-pitched voice. "Green Two is operational."

Green Three and Four checked in, then the external screens came alive

projecting an empty starfield. "Whistler, have you finished the navigation

calculations?"

The green and white R2 unit seated behind Corran hooted, then the navdata

spilled out over Corran's main monitor. He punched a button sending the same

coordinates out to the other pilots in Green Flight. "Go to light speed and

rendezvous on the Redemption."

As Corran engaged the X-wing's hyperdrive, the stars elongated themselves into

white cylinders, then snapped back into pinpoints and began to revolve slowly,

transforming themselves into a tunnel of white light. Corran fought the urge to

use the stick to compensate for the roll. In space, and especially hyperspace,

up and down were relative. How his ship moved through hyperspace didn't really

matteras long as it remained on the course Whistler had calculated and had

attained sufficient velocity before entering hyperspace, he'd arrive intact.

Flying into a black hole would actually make this run easier. Every pilot

dreaded the Redemption run. The scenario was based on an Imperial attack on

evacuation ships back before the first Death Star had been destroyed. While the

Redemption waited for three Medevac shuttles and the corvette Korolev to dock

and off-load wounded, the Imperial frigate Warspite danced around the system and

dumped out TIE fighters and added bombers to the mix to do as much damage as

they could.

The bombers, with a full load of missiles, could do a lot of damage. All the

pilots called the Redemption scenario by another name the Requiem scenario.

The Warspite would only deploy four star fighters and a half-dozen bombersknown

in pilot slang as "eyeballs" and "dupes" respectively but it would do so in a

pattern that made it all but impossible for the pilots to save the Korolev. The

corvette was just one big target, and the TIE

bombers had no trouble unloading all their missiles into it.

Stellar pinpoints elongated again as the fighter came out of hyperspace. Off to

the port side Corran saw the Redemption. Moments later Whistler reported that

the other fighters and all three Medevac shuttles had arrived. The fighters

checked in and the first shuttle began its docking maneuver with the Redemption.

"Green One, this is Green Four."

"Go ahead, Four."

"By the book, or are we doing something fancy?"

Corran hesitated before answering. By book, Nawara Ven had referred to the

general wisdom about the scenario. It stated that one pilot should play

fleethund and race out to engage the first TIE flight while the other three

fighters remained in close as backup. As long as three fighters stayed at home,

it appeared, the Warspite dropped ships off at a considerable distance from the

Korolev. When they didn't, it got bolder and the whole scenario became very

bloody.

The problem with going by the book was that it wasn't a very good strategy. It

meant one pilot had to deal with five TIEstwo eyeballs and three dupesall by

himself, then turn around and engage five more. Even with them coming in waves,

the chances of being able to succeed against those odds were slim.

Doing it any other way was disastrous. Besides, what loyal son of Corellia ever

had any use for odds?

"By the book. Keep the home fires burning and pick up after me."

"Done. Good luck."

"Thanks." Corran reached up with his right

hand and pressed it against the lucky charm he wore on a chain around his neck.

Though he could barely feel the coin through his gloves and the thick material

of his flight suit, the familiar sensation of the metal resting against his

breastbone brought a smile to his face. It worked for you a lot, Dad, let's hope

all its luck hasn't run out yet.

He openly acknowledged that he'd been depending quite a bit on luck to see him

through the difficulties of settling in with the Alliance forces. Learning the

slang took some workmoving from calling TIE starfighters "eyeballs" to calling

Interceptors "squints" made a certain amount of sense, but many other terms had

been born of logic that escaped him. Everything about the Rebellion seemed odd

in comparison to his previous life and fitting in had not been easy.

Nor will be winning this scenario. The Korolev materialized and moved toward the

Redemption, prompting Corran to begin his final check. He'd mulled the scenario

over in his mind time and time again. In previous runs, when he served as a home

guard to someone else's fleethund, he'd had Whistler record traces on the TIE

timing patterns, flight styles, and attack vectors. While different cadets flew

the TIE half of the simulations, the craft dictated their performance and a lot

of their initial run sequence had been preprogrammed. A sharp squawk from

Whistler alerted Corran to the Warspite's arrival. "Great, eleven klicks aft."

Pulling the stick around to the right, Corran brought the X-wing into a wide

turn. At the end of it he punched the throttle up to full power. Hitting

another switch up to the right, he locked the S-foils into attack position.

"Green One engaging."

Rhysati's voice came cool and strong through the radio. "Be all over them like

drool on a Hutt."

"I'll do my best, Green Three." Corran smiled and waggled the X-wing as he flew

back through the Alliance formation and out toward the Warspite. Whistler

announced the appearance of three TIE bombers with a low tone, then brought the

sound up as two TIE fighters joined them.

"Whistler, tag the bombers as targets one, two, and three." As the R2 unit

complied with that or-der, Corran pushed shield power full to front and brought

his laser targeting program up on the main monitor. With his left hand he

adjusted the sighting calibration knob on the stick and got the two fighters.

Good, looks like three klicks between the eyeballs and the bombers.

Corran's right hand again brushed the coin beneath his flight suit. He took a

deep breath, exhaled slowly, then settled his hand on the stick and let his

thumb hover over the firing button. At two klicks the heads-up display painted a

yellow box around the lead TIE fighter. The box went green as the fighter's

image locked into the HUD's targeting cross and Whistler's shrill bleat filled

the cockpit. Corran's thumb hit the button, sending three bursts of laser bolts

at the lead fighter.

The first set missed but the second and third blasted through the spherical

cockpit. The hexagonal solar panels snapped off and spun forward through space

while the ion engines exploded into an expanding ball of incandescent gas.

Corran kicked the X-wing up in a ninety-degree snap-roll and sliced through the

center of the explosion. Laser fire from the second fighter lit up his forward

shields, making it impossible for him to get a good visual line on the TIE.

Whistler yowled, coo-plaining about being a target. Corran hurried a shot and

knew he hit, but the TIE flashed past and con-tinued on in at the Korolev.

Time to write a new chapter for the book on the Requiem scenario. Corran

throttled back almost all the way to zero and let the X-wing decelerate.

"Whistler, bring up target one."

The image of the first TIE bomber filled his monitor. Corran switched over to

proton torpedo target control. The HUD changed to a larger box and Whistler

began beeping as he worked supplying data to the targeting computer for a

missile lock.

"Green One, your velocity is down to one percent. Do you need help?" "Negative,

Green Two." "Corran, what are you doing?" "Making the book a short story." /

hope. The HUD went red and Whistler's tone became constant. Corran punched the

button and launched the first missile. "Acquire target two." The HUD flashed

yellow, then red, and the pilot launched the second missile.

Numbers scrolled away to zero as the missiles streaked in at their targets. Two

kilometers away the first missile hit, shredding the first TIE bomber. Seconds

later the second missile hit its target. A novalike explosion lit the

simulator's cockpit, then melted into the blackness of space. "Acquire target

three."

Even as he gave the order he knew the rate of closure between the bomber and his

ship would make the last missile shot all but impossible. "Cancel three."

Corran throttled up again as the third bomber sailed past and brought his ship

around. He switched back to laser targeting and climbed right up on the bomber's

stern.

The dupe's pilot tried to evade him. He juked the double-hulled ship to the

left, then started a long turn to the right, but Corran was of no mind to lose

him. He cut his speed, which kept the bomber in

front of him, then followed it in its turn. As he leveled out again on its

tail, he triggered two laser bursts and the targeting computer reported hull

damage.

The bomber's right wing came up in a roll and Corran did the same thing. Had he

continued to fly level, the X-wing's lasers would have passed on either side of

the bomber's fuselage, giv ing the bomber a few seconds more of life. Keeping the

bomber cen-tered in his crosshairs, Corran hit twice more and the bulky craft

disintegrated before him.

Pushing his throttle to full, Corran scanned for the fighter he'd missed. He

found it two klicks out and going in toward the Korolev. He also found five more

TIEs coming in from the other side of the corvette, eighteen kilometers away.

Damn, the bomber took more time than I had to give it.

He brought the torpedo targeting program back up and locked on to the remaining

fighter. The HUD seemed to take forever before it went red and acquired a lock.

Corran fired a missile and watched it blast through the fighter, then turned his

attention to the new TIEs.

"Green One, do you want us to engage?"

Corran shook his head. "Negative, Two. Warspite is still here and could dump

another flight." He sighed. "Move to intercept the fighters, but don't go beyond

a klick from the Korolev."

"On it."

Good, they can tie the fighters up while I dust these dupes. Corran studied the

navigational data Whistler was giving him. The Korolev, the bombers, and his

X-wing formed a shrinking triangle. If he flew directly at the bombers he would

end up flying in an arc, which would take more time than he had and let them get

close enough to launch their mis-

siles at the corvette. That would be less than useless as far as he was

concerned.

"Whistler, plot me an intercept point six klicks out from the Korolev."

The R2 whistled blithely, as if that calculation was so simple even Corran

should have been able to do it in his head. Steering toward it, Corran saw he'd

have just over a minute to deal with the bombers before they were in firing

range on the Korolev. Not enough time.

Flicking two switches, Corran redirected generator energy from recharging his

shields and lasers into the engines. It took the acceleration compensator a

second to cycle up, so the ship's burst of speed pushed Corran back into the

padding of his command seat. This better work.

"Green One, the Warspite has hyped. Are we released to engage fighters?"

"Affirmative, Three. Go get them." Corran frowned for a second, knowing his

fellow pilots would make short work of the TIE fighters. They would deny him a

clean sweep, but he'd willingly trade two TIEs for the corvette. Commander

Antilles might have gotten them all himself, but then he's got two Death Stars

painted on the side of his X-wing.

"Whistler, mark each of the bombers four, five, and six." Range to intercept was

three klicks and he had added thirty seconds to his fighting time. "Acquire

four."

The targeting computer showed him to be coming in at a forty-five-degree angle

to the flight path of his target, which meant he was way off target. He quickly

punched the generator back into recharging lasers and his shields, then pulled

even more energy from his quartet of Incom 4L4 fusial thrust engines

shunted it into recharging his weapons and shields.

The resource redirection brought his speed down. Corran pulled back on the

stick, easing the X-wing into a turn that brought him head-on into the bombers.

Tapping the stick to the left, he cen-tered the targeting box on the first of

the dupes.

The HUD started yellow, then quickly went red. Corran fired a missile. "Acquire

five." The HUD started red and Whistler's keen echoed through the cockpit. The

Corellian fired a second missile. 'Acquire six."

Whistler screeched.

Corran looked down at his display. Scrolling up the screen, sandwiched between

the reports of mis-sile hits on the three bombers, he saw a notation about Green

Two. "Green Two, report."

"He's gone, One."

"A fighter got him?"

"No time to chat ..." The comm call from the Twi'lek in Green Four ended in a

hiss of static.

"Rhysati?"

"Got one, Corran, but this last one is good."

"Hang on."

"I'll do my best."

"Whistler, acquire six."

The R2 unit hissed. The last bomber had already shot past the intercept point

and was bearing in on the Korolev. The pilot had the wide-bodied craft slowly

spinning, making it a difficult target for a

missile lock. The Korolev, being as big as it was,

would present large enough of a target that even a rolling

ship could get a lock on it.

And once he has that lock, the Korolev is so much space junk. Corran switched

back to lasers and pushed his X-wing forward. Even though two klicks separated

them, he triggered a couple of laser

blasts. He knew his chances of hitting were not good at that range, but the

light from the bolts would shoot past the TIE and give the pilot something to

think about. And I want him thinking about me, not that nerf-vette grazing

there.

Corran redirected all power back into the engines and shot forward. Two more

laser blasts caused the TIE bomber to shy a bit, but it had pushed into

target-acquisition range. The ship's roll began to slow as the pilot fixated on

his target, then, as Corran brought his lasers to bear, the bomber jinked and

cut away to port.

The Corellian's eyes narrowed. Bror Jace has got to be flying that thing. He

thinks it's payback time. The other pilot, a human from Thyferra, wasin

Corran's opinionthe second best pilot in the training squadron. He's going to

kill the Korolev and I'll never hear the end of it. Unless ...

Corran pulled all his shield energy forward and left his aft as naked as the

shieldless TIE bomber. Following Jace through a barrel roll, he kept the

throttle full forward. As they leveled out again Corran triggered a snapshot at

the bomber. -It caught a piece of one wing, but Jace dove beneath the X-wing's

line of fire. Here we go!

Corran shoved his stick forward to follow the bomber's dive, but because his

rate of speed was a good twenty percent faster than that of Jace's ship, the

X-wing moved into a broad loop. By the time Corran inverted to finish the turn

off, Jace's bomber came back up and banked in on the X-wing's tail.

Before the bomber could unload a missile or two into his aft, Corran broke the

fighter hard to port and carved across the bomber's line of fire. Basic maneuver

with a basic response. Without even glancing at his instruments, and paying no

attention to Whistler's squealed warning, Corran cut engine

power back into recharging his shields. One more second.

Jace's response to Corran's break had been a reverse-throttle hop. By bringing

the nose of the bomber up in a steep climb, then rolling out in the direction of

the turn, Jace managed to stay inside die arc of the X-wing's turn. As the

bomber leveled off. it closed very quickly with the X-wingtoo quickly for a

missile lock, but not a laser shot.

The TIE bomber shrieked in at the X-wing. Col-ision warning klaxons wailed.

Corran could feel Jace's excitement as the X-wing loomed larger. He knew the

other pilot would snap off a quick shot, then come around again, angry at having

overshot the X-wing, but happy to smoke Corran before tak-ing the Korolev.

The X-wing pilot hit a switch and shifted all shield power to the aft shields.

The deflector shield materialized as a demisphere approximately twenty meters

behind the X-wing. Designed to dissipate both energy and kinetic weapons, it

had no trouble protecting the fighter from the bomber's twin laser blasts. Had

the bomber used missiles, the shields could even have handled all the damage

they could do, though that would have been enough to destroy the shields

themselves.

The TIE bomber, which massed far more than the missiles it carried, should have

punched through die shields and might even have destroyed the fighter, but it

hit at an angle and glanced off. The collision did blast away half the power of

the aft shield and bounced the X-wing around, but other-wise left the

snubfighter undamaged.

The same could not be said of the unshielded bomber. The impact with the shield

was roughly equivalent to a vehicle hitting a ferrocrete wall at

sixty kilometers per hour. While that might not do a land vehicle much damage,

land vehicles are decidedly less delicate than starfighters. The starboard wing

crumpled inward, wrapping itself around the bomber's cockpit. Both pods of the

ship twisted out of alignment so the engines shot it off into an uncontrolled

tumble through the simulator's dataspace.

"Green Three, did you copy that?"

Corran got no response. "Whistler, what happened to Three?"

The R2 unit gave him a mournful tone.

Sithspawn. Corran flipped the shield control to equalize things fore and aft.

"Where is he?"

The image of a lone TIE fighter making a strafing run on the Korolev appeared

on Corran's monitor. The clumsy little craft skittered along over the

corvette's surface, easily dodging its weak return fire. That's seriously gutsy

for a TIE fighter. Corran smiled. Or arrogant, and time to make him pay for that

arrogance.

The Corellian brought his proton torpedo targeting program up and locked on to

the TIE. It tried to break the lock, but turbolaser fire from the Korolev boxed

it in. Corran's HUD went red and he triggered the torpedo. "Scratch one

eyeball."

The missile shot straight in at the fighter, but the pilot broke hard to port

and away, causing the missile to overshoot the target. Nice flying! Corran

brought his X-wing over and started down to loop in behind the TIE, but as he

did so, the TIE vanished from his forward screen and reappeared in his aft arc.

Yanking the stick hard to the right and pulling it back, Corran wrestled the

X-wing up and to starboard, then inverted and rolled out to the left.

A laser shot jolted a tremor through the simulator's couch. Lucky thing I had

all shields aft! Corran reinforced them with energy from his lasers, then

evened them out fore and aft. Jinking the tighter right and left, he avoided

laser shots coming in from behind, but they all came in f ar closer than he

liked.

He knew Jace had been in the bomber, and Jace was the only pilot in the unit who

could have stayed with him. Except for our leader. Corran smiled broadly. Coming

to see how good I really am, Commander Antilles? Let me give you a clinic.

"Make sure you're in there solid, Whistler, because we're going for a little

ride."

Corran refused to let the R2's moan slow him down. A snap-roll brought the

X-wing up on its port wing. Pulling back on the stick yanked the fighter's nose

up away from the original line of flight. The TIE stayed with him, then

tightened up on the arc to close distance. Corran then rolled another ninety

degrees and continued the turn into a dive. Throttling back, Corran hung in the

dive for three seconds, then hauled back hard on the stick and cruised up into

the TIE fighter's aft.

The X-wing's laser fire missed wide to the right as the TIE cut to the left.

Corran kicked his speed up to full and broke with the TIE. He let the X-wing

rise above the plane of the break, then put the fighter through a twisting roll

that ate up enough time to bring him again into the TIE's rear. The TIE snapped

to the right and Corran looped out left.

He watched the tracking display as the distance between them grew to be a

kilometer and a half, then slowed. Fine, you want to go nose to nose? I've got

shields and you don't. If Commander Antilles wanted to commit virtual suicide,

Corran was happy to oblige him. He tugged the stick back to his sternum and

rolled out in an inversion loop. Coming at you!

The two starfighters closed swiftly. Corran centered his foe in the crosshairs

and waited for a dead

shot. Without shields the TIE fighter would die with one burst, and Corran

wanted the kill to be clean. His HUD flicked green as the TIE juked in and out

of the center, then locked green as they closed.

The TIE started firing at maximum range and scored hits. At that distance the

lasers did no real damage against the shields, prompting Corran to wonder why

Wedge was wasting the energy. Then, as the HUD's green color started to flicker,

realization dawned. The bright bursts on the shields are a distraction to my

targeting! I better kill him now!

Corran tightened down on the trigger button, sending red laser needles stabbing

out at the closing TIE fighter. He couldn't tell if he had hit anything. Lights

flashed in the cockpit and Whistler started screeching furiously. Corran's main

monitor went black, his shields were down, and his weapons controls were dead.

The pilot looked left and right. "Where is he, Whistler?"

The monitor in front of him flickered to life and a diagnostic report began to

scroll by. Bloodred bordered the damage reports. "Scanners, out; lasers, out;

shields, out; engine, out! I'm a wallowing Hutt just hanging here in space."

With the X-wing's scanners being dead, the R2 droid couldn't locate the TIE

fighter if it was outside the droid's scanner range. Whistler informed Corran of

this with an anxious bleat.

"Easy, Whistler, get me my shields back first. Hurry." Corran continued to look

around for the TIE fighter. Letting me stew, are you, sir? You'll finish the

Korolev then come for me. The pilot frowned and felt a cold chill run down his

spine. You're right, I'm no Luke Skywalker. I'm glad you think I'm not bad, but

I want to be the best!

Suddenly the starfield went black and the simu-

lator pod hissed as it cracked open. The canopy lifted up and the sound of

laughter filled the cockpit. Corran almost flicked the blast shield down on his

helmet to prevent his three friends from seeing his embarrassed blush. Nope,

might as well take my punishment. He stood and doffed his helmet, then shook his

head. "At least it's over."

The Twi'lek, Nawara Ven, clapped his hands. "Such modesty, Corran."

"Huh?"

The blond woman next to the Twi'lek beamed up at him. "You won the Redemption

scenario."

"What?"

The grey-green Gand nodded his head and placed his helmet on the nose of

Corran's simulator. "You had nine kills. Jace is not pleased."

"Thanks for the good news, Ooryl, but I still got killed in there." Corran

hopped out of the simulator. "The pilot who got you threeCommander Antilleshe

got me, too."

The Twi'lek shrugged. "He's been at this a bit longer than I have, so it is not

a surprise he got me."

Rhysati shook her head, letting her golden hair drape down over her shoulders.

"The surprise was that he took so long to get us, really. Are you certain he

killed you?"

Corran frowned. "I don't think I got a mission end message."

"Clearly you have too little experience of dying in these simulators because

you'd know if you did." Rhysati laughed lightly. "He may have hit you, Corran,

but he didn't kill you. You survived and won."

Corran blinked, then smiled. "And I got Bror before he got the Korolev. I'll

take that."

"As well you should." A brown-haired with crystal blue eyes shouldered his way

Ooryl and Nawara. "You're an exceptionally good pilot."

"Thank you, sir."

The man offered Corran his hand. "Thought I had you, but when you shot out my

engines, your missile caught up with me. Nice job."

Corran shook the man's hand hesitantly. The man wore a black flight suit with no

name or rank insignia on it, though it did have Hoth, Endor, and Bakura battle

tabs sewn on the left sleeve. "You know, you're one hot hand in a TIE."

"Nice of you to say, Mr. HornI'm a bit rusty, but I really enjoyed this run."

He released Corran's hand. "Next time I'll give you more of a fight."

A woman wearing a Lieutenant's uniform touched the TIE pilot on the arm.

"Admiral Ackbar is ready to see you now, sir. If you will follow me."

The TIE pilot nodded to the four X-wing pilots. "Good flying, all of you.

Congratulations on winning the scenario."

Corran stared at the man's retreating back. "I thought Commander Antilles was in

that TIE. I mean it had to be someone as good as him to get you three."

The ends of Nawara Yen's head tails twitched. "Apparently he is that good."

Rhysati nodded. "He flew circles around me."

"At least you saw him." The Gand drummed his trio of fingers against the hull of

Corran's simulator. "He caught Ooryl as Ooryl fixed on his wingman. Ooryl is

free hydrogen in simspace. That man is very good."

"Sure, but who is he?" Corran frowned. "He's not Luke Skywalker, obviously, but

he was with Rogue Squadron at Bakura and survived Endor."

The Twi'lek's red eyes sparked. "The Endor tab

had a black dot in the middlehe survived the Death Star run."

Rhysati looped her right arm around Corran's neck and brought her fist up gently

under his chin. "What difference does it make who he is?"

"Rhys, he shot up three of our best pilots, had me dead in space, and says he's

a bit rusty! I want to know who he is because he's decidedly dangerous."

"He is that, but today he's not the most dangerous pilot. That's you." She

linked her other arm through Nawara's right elbow. "So, Corran, you forget you

were a Security officer and, Nawara, you forget you were a lawyer and let this

thing drop. Today we're all pilots, we're all on the same side"she smiled

sweetly"and the man who beat the Redemption scenario is about to make good on

all those dinner and drink promises he made to talk his wingmates into helping

him win."

Wedge Antilles saluted Admiral Ackbar and held the salute until the Mon Calamari

returned it. "Thank you for seeing me, sir."

"It is always my pleasure to see you, Commander Antilles." Without moving his

head, Ackbar glanced with one eye toward the other man standing in his office.

"General Salm and I were just discussing the impact of having Rogue Squadron

back in the fleet. He feels you are all but ready to go. The unit roster is

impressive."

The brown-haired fighter pilot nodded. "Yes, sir. I wanted to speak to you about

the roster, if I could, sir." Wedge saw Salm's face close up. "There have been

changes made to the roster without my consultation."

Salm turned away from the floating blue globe hanging in the corner and clasped

his hands behind his back. "There are circumstances beyond your control that

made those changes necessary, Commander Antilles."

"I'm aware of that, sir. Lieutenants Hobbie Klivan and Wes Janson will do well

bringing new

training squadrons along." / didn't want to lose them, but that was a battle I

lost a long time ago. "And I understand why half the slots in my squadron are

going to political appointees ..."

Ackbar's head came up. "But you do not approve?"

Wedge bit back a sharp comment. "Admiral, I've spent a good deal of the two and

a half years since the Emperor died touring worlds new to the Alliance because

someone decided our new allies needed to see we had heroesthat we weren't all

the bandits the Empire made us out to be. I gave speeches, I kissed babies, I

had holograms taken with more world leaders than I ever knew existed. I was

there as our propaganda machine built Rogue Squadron up into the needle that

exploded the Emperor's Death Star balloons."

The human General in command of the Rebellion's starfighter training center at

Folor smiled coolly. "Then you do understand why it is important that our

allies have representatives within our most celebrated squadron."

"Yes, but / know the difference between a real fighter squadron and the monster

you've made Rogue Squadron out to be. The Empire isn't going to lie down and die

just because they see a dozen ships jump into a system."

"Of course not."

"But, General, that's what our diplomatic corps is suggesting. The Bothans want

a pilot in Rogue Squadron because they found the second Death Star and we killed

it. And I understand why having two Thyferrans is importantwe have to appease

the two conglomerates that control bacta production ..."

Ackbar held u p a webbed hand. "Commander, a question to the point is this Are

the pilots selected inferior to other candidates?"

No, sir, but . ..

"But?"

Wedge took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Luke would be telling me that

anger isn't good. He's right, because anger won't get me any closer to what I

want. "Admiral, I'm commanding a fighter squadron. We're an elite squadron and

the only thing I want to change about it is our survival rate. You've let me

have the pick of the new pilots coming over to us, and I've got a fine group of

them. With some more training I think I can make them into the sort of unit that

will strike terror into Imperial hearts. And," he added, nodding at General

Salm, "I concur with the selection of all the pilots listed on the roster you

have, except for twoRogue Five and my Executive Officer."

"Lieutenant Deegan is an excellent pilot."

"Agreed, General, but he's from Corellia, the same as me and Corran Horn. It

strikes me that having Corellia overrepresented in Rogue Squadron is not

politically wise."

One of Ackbar's eyes shifted slightly. "You have someone in mind to replace

him?"

Wedge nodded. "I'd like to use Gavin Dark-lighter."

Salm shook his head adamantly. "He's just a Tatooine farm boy who thinks the

ability to shoot womp rats from a speeder can make him a hero."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but Luke Skywalker was just a Tatooine farm boy whose

ability to shoot womp rats from a speeder did make him a hero."

The General snarled at Wedge's riposte. "You can't mean to suggest this

Darklighter has Commander Skywalker's control of the Force."

"I don't know about that, sir, but I do know Gavin has every bit as much heart

as Luke does." Wedge turned toward the Mon Calamari. "Gavin

had a cousin, Biggs, who was with Luke and me in the trench at Yavin. He stayed

with Luke when I was ordered to pull out. Biggs died there. Gavin came to me and

asked to join my squadron."

"What Commander Antilles is not telling you, Admiral, is that Gavin Darklighter

is only sixteen years old. He's a child."

"You couldn't tell it by looking at him."

Ackbar's barbels quivered. "Forgive me, gentlemen, but determining a human's

age by visual clues is a skill that has long since eluded me. General Salm's

point is well taken, however. This Darklighter is rather young."

"Is the Admiral suggesting that someone, somewhere within the Alliance, won't

take Gavin in when we need to put someone in an X-wing cockpit? I don't think

Commander Varth would balk at bringing Gavin on board."

"That may be true, Commander Antilles, but then Commander Varth is far more

successful at keeping his pilots alive than you are." Ackbar's even tone kept

the remark away from being a stinging rebuke, but not by much. "And, yes, I

know Commander Varth has never had to face a Death Star."

Rogue Squadron's leader frowned. "Sir, Gavin came to me because Biggs and I were

friends. I feel an obligation to him. Even General Salm will agree that Gavin's

test scores are very goodhe'll do his Redemption scenario in three days and I

expect his scores there will measure up. I want to pair Gavin with the

Shistavanen, Shiel. I think they'll work well together." He opened his hands.

"Gavin's all alone and looking for a new home. Let me put him in Rogue

Squadron."

Ackbar looked at Salm. "Aside from this nebulous age problem, you do not

disagree with this selection?"

Salm looked at Wedge and bowed his head. "In this caseif Darklighter does well

in his Redemption trialI see no problem with letting Commander Antilles have

his way."

Which means my choice for XO gets opposed fullynot that I expected less. "You

are most kind, General."

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1You'regood,Corran,butyou'renoLukeSkywalker.CorranHorn'scheeksstillburnedatthememoryofCommanderAntilles'sevaluationofhislastsimulatorexercise.Thelinehadbeenasimplecomment,notmeanttobecruelnordeliveredthatway,butitcutdeepintoCorran.I'venevertriedtosuggestI'mthatgoodofapilot.Heshookhishead.No,youjustw...

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Star Wars - [X-Wing 01] - Rogue Squadron (by Michael A Stackpole)

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