Star Wars - X-Wing - Rogue Squadron

  Rhysati raised a hand. "Any defenses in the rift valley?"

  Wedge shook his head. "None that we know of, but it's possible there are some.

  Whoever goes in first has got to be careful. First run probably won't nail the

  prize."

  "I can believe that." Corran scratched at the back of his neck. "Are Page's

  folks coming down while we make our runs?"

  "If they were, Lieutenant, the answer to that question would be classified."

  Wedge hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "It's a logical assumption to make,

  though. Regardless, any of us who gets left behind will be in severe straitsout

  of fuel and out of luck long before the assault for which we're doing the prep

  work will hit."

  Bror Jace slowly nodded. "This is a suicide mission."

  "No, I want it to be anything but a suicide mission. The facts do point to this

  being very dangerous." Wedge folded his hands together. "We've got six ships

  and eight pilots. I'm sorry, Ooryl, but without a proper prosthetic fit, I

  can't consider you healthy enough for this mission."

  Corran's wingmate sagged a bit in his seat. The Emdee droids had fitted him with

  a odd device that capped his stub with what lookedand smelled like a boiling

  pot of bacta. Below it a rudimentary prosthetic arm ended in a pair of pincers

  that snapped open and closed. "Qrygg offers apologies for Qrygg's failure."

  "Your feelings are understood, Ooryl." Wedge folded his arms across his chest.

  "Three of you are fit to fly but you don't have a ship. We do have

  Lujayne's X-wing ready to go. If all of you volunteer for this mission, I'll

  choose one of you at random to

  fly that ship. If anyone else opts out, you're up. Do you all want to

  go?" All three of the pilots nodded.

  "Emtrey, randomize a choice here."

  The droid hummed for a moment. "Nawara Ven."

  Shiel growled and Erisi shrugged in Rhysati's direction.

  Wedge smiled. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Ven. You'll fly with Mr. Jace, assuming he

  volunteers."

  The Thyferran shot a quick glance at Erisi, then nodded. "It shall be my

  pleasure to bring glory to the Thyferran people as their representative on this

  mission."

  "Mr. Darklighter, this isn't Beggar's Canyon . . ."

  "I know, sir. It's bigger and this won't be for fun." Gavin smiled slowly. "I'm

  in."

  Wedge looked over at Rhysati. "And you, Ms. Ynr."

  "Someone has to break up the boys' club."

  Wedge turned to Corran. "Need I ask?"

  "You want to know if I'm willing to fly to an enemy-held planet where I'm to

  race through some eroded ditch and pop a sewer pipe with a proton torpedo while

  Interceptors are swarming around, and do all this with no hope of rescue if I

  slip up?"

  Wedge's reply came cold and calm. "That's what I want to know."

  Corran's mouth soured and his stomach tightened. Despite Gavin's protest,

  Nawara Ven had been correctthe mission was impossible. Performing any one of

  the feats mentioned might have been possible, but doing them all would push

  every pilot to

  his or her limit. Failure by some was inevitable only who and how many were in

  question.

  They all knew that. They knew it as well as he did, yet each one of them had

  volunteered without a second thought. The mission needed doing, and they were

  going to do it. It wasn't a question of survival, but a question of how best to

  make certain the mission succeeded. Each of them decided they were up to the

  task and now it was up to him to come to the same conclusion.

  "Overwhelming odds, tough target, scant chance of survivalbusiness as usual for

  Rogue Squadron." Corran nodded. "I'll go on one condition."

  "Go or stay, Mr. Horn, no special deals."

  "Then think of this as a tactical consideration." Corran sat forward and rested

  his elbows on his knees. "I'm first into the valley."

  Wedge shook his head. "That position's already filled."

  "You need a wingman, Commander." Corran jerked a thumb at the other pilots.

  "They've had practice using someone else's telemetry to make a run, I haven't.

  We'll make the first run together."

  Wedge looked away for a moment, then back at Corran. "Glad to have you with us,

  Mr. Horn. Shiel, Ms. Dlarit, you'll work with Captain Celchu and provide

  opposition for us while we do the simulator runs on the operation. You'll have

  to do your best to kill us before we go. If you can't, maybe, just maybe, we'll

  be able to come back and thank you for your hard work."

  30

  Corran leaned against the body of the simulator and gave Wedge a weak smile. "We

  got it that time, boss, but only just barely."

  "That last cut is very sharp. Banking is the only way to make it, but leveling

  out for the torpedo shot is tough."

  The junior officer nodded. The one time he had tried to make the last turn to

  the target by applying rudder and skidding around the turn, his X-wing slammed

  into a canyon wall. Making that turn and escaping a crash required very fine

  manipulation of the throttle. He could do that, but by the time he had

  negotiated the turn and recovered, he was past his target.

  "I like the idea of popping up over the last turn and gliding on down in, but

  that might attract some of the TIEs the bacta boy is lighting up."

  "I agree that going up and out of the valley to avoid that last turn is probably

  the most simple way of handling the problem, but we go in first to provide the

  data for others to make their runs. Mr. Jace

  and Mr. Ven will decide if they want to hop past the last turn or go through the

  valley."

  Bror Jace came out from around the corner of Corran's simulator with his

  wingman. "Valley, I think, unless our fuel estimates are lower than expected

  because of dogfighting."

  Corran winked at him. "Don't worry, we'll keep them off you while you squirm

  your way into the tunnel."

  "I'll do the job."

  The Twi'lek laid a hand on Bror's shoulder. "We'll do the job."

  Wedge smiled. "Only because our near misses will weaken the structure for you."

  "Of course, Commander." Bror looked at Corran. "Even clean misses must ionize

  the air and do some harm."

  The Corellian Lieutenant levered himself away from the simulator. "Last I

  looked, I've hit more targets than you."

  Gavin and Rhysati joined the group. "If not for me not holding my end up, Corran

  would be winning your contest, Bror."

  The Thyferran waved that comment away. "Corran has one more kill than I do. If

  this simulation is at all accurate, I will eclipse his mark by three kills."

  "So it's just you and me, head-to-head?"

  Bror looked down at Corran. "Just you and me. Head-to-head. As it has always

  been."

  Wedge stepped between them. "At ease, gentlemen. Let me remind you of two

  things. First, Gavin's got the best record for hitting the tunnel, which means

  the second flight didn't do so well. Second, that tunnel is our target, not all

  the eyeballs and squints flying around."

  He rested a hand on each man's shoulder. "I've

  not discouraged this contest because there's no way to stop you from keeping

  score. It's given you a competitive edge which is go
odneither of you has

  allowed the other to become complacent or bored. A bored pilot gets

  overconfident, careless, and, rather quickly, dead. And, in spite of planning

  and promoting this difficult mission, I don't want to see any of us die."

  Wedge took a step back and folded his arms. For the barest of moments he looked

  far older than his twenty-seven years. Corran saw the weariness as Death's

  fingerprints. Death's never gotten Wedge, but it's been close enough to leave

  marks on him. There's undoubtedly a nightmare for every pilot Rogue Squadron has

  lost, and I bet he runs through them far more regularly than he'd like.

  The squadron commander forced a smile onto his face. "Back when I first welcomed

  you to this squadron I told you that most pilots die during their first five

  missions. We were very lucky in our first three, but it all caught up with us on

  the run at Blackmoon. Looking at the numbers there is no reason to assume it

  will go any better for us this time."

  Corran nodded and fought the shiver coursing up his spine. In the first run they

  had eleven ships to take against Blackmoon's fighters. They engaged two

  squadrons then and would likely face that much opposition this time. While the

  best pilots in Rogue Squadron were going in on the mission, fuel considerations

  limited their ability to perform.

  "I want you people to know I've flown with the best the Alliance has to offer.

  Luke, Biggs, Porkins, Janson, Tycho, all of them. I don't feel their lack here.

  This isn't a Death Star we're going after, and this mission doesn't have that

  sense of urgency. That's because back then we were fighting for the very

  survival of the Rebellion.

  "The fact is, though, this mission is just as important as either of the Death

  Star runs." Wedge glanced down at his hands, then back up. "This time we're

  fighting for the future of the Rebellion and all the people who want freedom

  from the Empire. That's a lot less immediate than what we fought for in the old

  days, but in many ways it's far more noble a goal."

  Corran smiled in spite of himself. The nagging sense of doubt and doom that had

  been grinding away at his consciousness didn't go away, but it became muted.

  Wedge's words muffled it. Fear and insecurity were issues about himself, but

  their mission was about others. He was going off to make the future a bit

  brighter for people like Iella Wessiri and her husband and Gus Bastra and his

  family. And even folks like Booster Terrik.

  The realization that this blow struck at the Empire would make life easier for

  the sorts of criminals he and his father and grandfather used to hunt didn't

  tarnish the mission. He'd never believed the "virtuous bandit" myth most

  criminals like to wrap around themselvesraiding the affluent to give to the

  destitute was a pattern often claimed, but he'd seen no evidence of it. Still he

  couldn't deny the contribution of folks like Han Solo or Mirax Terrik to the

  Rebellion. And how could one compare the minor evil of a Hutt with the grand

  evil of a government that would conceive of, build, and utilize weapons that

  could destroy planets?

  If we cap the wellspring of evil, cleaning up all the little puddles it leaves

  behind will be that much easier.

  Wedge looked at all of the pilots. "This mission isn't going to be easy, but I

  know we can do it."

  Corran nodded to him. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be a Rogue Squadron mission."

  "And if it wasn't given to Rogue Squadron," Bror added, "it would have no chance

  of being accomplished."

  "If ego could power shields, you'd be invincible." Wedge shook his head.

  "You've got twelve hours to kill before you hit the line. No drinking and

  definitely get some sleep. You can't use the holonet for obvious security

  reasons, but if you want to record some messages for friends and family and

  leave them with Emtrey, he'll see to their disposition in the worst case. Get

  going, I'll see you at 0800 on the line."

  "We'll be there, Commander." Corran tossed him a quick salute. "Nervous as

  Sithspawn in the glow of a Jedi's lightsaber, but ready for whatever the Empire

  throws at us."

  Wedge watched his pilots walk away and saw both Shiel and Erisi catch up with

  them. He turned and smiled at Tycho. "Nice flying in the sim. You wouldn't have

  bagged me if that belly pod hadn't slowed my climb."

  The Alderaanian pilot shrugged. "Fifth time's the charm."

  Wedge pointed toward the retreating knot of pilots. "Do they ever seem like

  kids to youkids who shouldn't be in this at all?"

  "Gavin, yes, and Ooryl because of the insular life he's led. The rest of them

  only surrender a year or two to us."

  "I know that, but it seems like the Emperor's death was the end of an era.

  They've all jointed after the New Republic was established. Before that we were

  outlaws fighting the legitimate government. Now we're a movement that is

  bringing freedom to countless worlds." Wedge shook his head. "Sometimes I think

  they've joined us because of the ro-

  mance of the Rebellion's having struck a blow against the Empire. We brought

  down Darth Vader, killed the Emperor, and destroyed the Death Stars."

  Tycho brushed a lock of brown hair from his forehead. "I hope you're not heading

  toward the idea that they don't really know what they're getting into. I seem to

  recall hearing that same speculation about the new pilots in the squadron before

  Endor. Back then you saw the destruction of the first Death Star as what marked

  the end of an epoch."

  Wedge had memories flood back. "Yeah, I guess I did think about that then,

  didn't I? The situation was different, though."

  "No it wasn't. Look, Wedge, none of us have been through all you have. I joined

  up after Yavin, so I've been here for a long time, but for me Biggs and Porkins

  and the others are just le gends. For you they're memoriesfriends you've lost."

  Tycho threw an arm across Wedge's shoulders. "These guys have lost friends, too.

  There's not a one of them that doesn't know the odds of surviving this run are

  about ..."

  Wedge held up a hand. "Don't give me odds. You know Corellians have no tolerance

  for odds."

  "Which is why you so willingly play sabacc."

  "And why so many of us are part of the Rebellion."

  The two of them laughed aloud and Wedge felt a lot of his tension bleeding away.

  As he wiped tears from his eyes he saw an Alliance Security Lieutenant come

  walking over. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

  "Forgive the intrusion, sir, but I just wanted to remind Captain Celchu this

  area is restricted when he's not actually involved in an exercise."

  "That's all right, Lieutenant, he's with me."

  "Yes, sir." She glanced anxiously back toward the doorway. "I'll wait out

  there."

  "I'll be along presently, Lieutenant."

  Wedge frowned. "I'll take responsibility for Captain Celchu, Lieutenant. You're

  dismissed."

  "Sir, my orders come from General Salm."

  "I know. Log your protest with him."

  "Yes, sir."

  Wedge looked over and saw a frown on Tycho's face. "What's the matter?" He

  glanced at the Security officer's retreating form, then b
ack at his friend.

  "Have you become involved with her? Did I break something up here?"

  Tycho shook his head. "No, nothing like that. She's very nice, and lived on

  Alderaan for several years, so we can talk about places we'll never see again.

  And she works with two enlisted men, one of whom watches me all the time. I do

  find her intriguing, but I'm not of a mind to begin a new relationship without

  knowing if the old one is over or not."

  "I can understand that." Wedge recalled the woman Tycho had fallen for a couple

  of years earlier. She worked in Alliance Procurement and Supply and spent most

  of her time on covert missions directing operations on enemy worlds designed to

  liberate materiels from the Empire. Because of the importance and sensitivity of

  her work, learning anything about her from Intelligence was impossible, and

  Tycho's status raised that difficulty level by an order of magnitude.

  Tycho poked a finger against Wedge's breastbone. "I think you're changing the

  subject on me to avoid the real issue that prompted your earlier question."

  Wedge raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and that is?"

  "You're afraid you're getting too old for what we've always told ourselves is a

  young man's game."

  "If you think that, you're as confused as a Gamorrean placed between two full

  mugs of lum."

  The Corellian frowned. "First off, you're a year older than I am."

  "Nine months."

  "Which is rather close to a year, my friend."

  "True enough, but years aren't the only measure of time." Tycho tapped the rank

  insignia at the collar of Wedge's flight suit. "You're a Commander. Luke was a

  General before he abandoned his rank. Han Solo and Lando Calrissian are

  Generals. Most of the officers who have been with the Alliance for as long as

  you have are at least Colonels."

  "You're only a Captain, Tycho."

  "And there I will stay, if Salm has anything to say about it."

  "Well, I've had my say about my rank, and I'm happy where I am. I like leading a

  squadron."

  "I know that." The Alderaanian shrugged and folded his arms. "You can't help but

  wonder, though, if refusing those promotions was the right decision to make or

  not."

  "True." Wedge looked up at his friend. "So, am I too old to be doing this?"

  "Wedge, over the last four months I've flown againstand shot downevery one of

  the kids you have going on this mission. So have you." Tycho let a low chuckle