Star Wars: X-Wing I: Rogue Squadron (3 page)

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 the 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 otherwise 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 fighter right and left, he avoided laser shots coming in from behind, but they all came in far 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 simulator
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 three—Commander Antilles—he 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 man with crystal blue eyes shouldered his way between
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. Horn—I’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 Ven’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 middle—he 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.”
I 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 heroes—that 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
I
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 important—we have to appease the two conglomerates that control bacta production …”

Ackbar held up 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 two—Rogue 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?”