Book 01 - Rogue Squadron by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole [Stackpole, Michael A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Star Wars, Science Fiction, Fiction
ISBN: 9780553568011
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1996-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

19

Wedge Antilles watched as Gavin Darklighter and Corran Horn floated all but lifeless in bacta tanks. Seeing them there brought back memories of the time he had spent in such a tank—it hadn’t been aboard the Reprieve but on Home One, Admiral Ackbar’s flagship at Endor. He’d been barely conscious during his time in the tank, which he saw as a blessing. Being awake and thinking while being able to do nothing would have driven him insane.

“Your pilots have improved, Commander Antilles?”

Wedge turned and blinked his eyes in surprise. “Admiral Ackbar? What are you doing here, sir?”

The Mon Calamari clasped his hands at the small of his back. “I read your report and found it disturbingly clinical. I decided I wanted more information.”

Wedge nodded. “There wasn’t much time to prepare the report.”

“And you have never really liked datapadding.”

“No.” Wedge rubbed a hand over his face and discovered a fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw. How long has it been since I slept? “You could have requested a supplemental report, or asked me to report to you aboard Home One and saved yourself the trip.”

“I thought of that, but I knew another report from you would be light in bytes and that you would refuse to leave your people, so I chose to save myself the annoyance.” Ackbar stared through the viewport at the two men in the tank. “Besides, the tone of the Provisional Council meetings is beginning to wear on me. The fate of Rogue Squadron is important enough that I was able to slip away without being accused of running.”

The Corellian looked over at his commander. “Are things that acrimonious?”

“I probably exaggerate. Politicians tend to view soldiers like their pet Cyborrean battle dogs.”

“And soldiers don’t like to be considered pets.”

Ackbar’s barbels twitched slightly. “Since we are the ones who get bitten and bleed and die, we tend to resist plans that are politically expedient but militarily suicidal.” He tapped his hand against the viewport. “Is the picture of what happened there any more clear?”

“Not yet. The basics are the same—three pilots seriously wounded, one dead, and all six sentries dead. A number of others have cuts and scrapes. It should have been much worse but it looks as if the stormtroopers wanted to plant the explosives, withdraw, then arm and detonate them by remote. Had they just put them on timers we would have lost equipment and people before we found them all. A full platoon was operating on Talasea. We got all of them and captured the Delta DX-9 Transport they came in on.”

“Hardly worth the cost, but a good thing, nonetheless.”

Wedge nodded. “The ones we captured—two stormtroopers and all five of the transport’s crew—refuse to talk. I have them in detention, isolated from each other. I’ve had an Emdee-oh and Emdee-one droid engaged in postmortems of the troopers we killed. With luck something will give us an idea where they came from.”

“And Talasea was evacuated?”

“Yes, sir. We expect Imperials to come looking for

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