Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [84]
Wedge swung nimbly into his cockpit. Dodonna’s order meant Booster would have to play a game of careful calculations. If he did jump before the military personnel aboard had all launched, he risked certain punishment from the Galactic Alliance—crushing financial penalties that could bankrupt him. If he didn’t, and the forces headed this way were too strong, he risked losing the Venture—and his own life, and the lives of thousands of employees and guests—as the underarmed Star Destroyer was vaped.
Wedge yanked the ladder free of his fuselage and dropped it to the hangar floor. He slid down into the couch, clamped his helmet on, closed the canopy.
Corran’s voice came across his helmet speakers. “Silly operational question. What’s our squadron designation?”
Wedge snorted. They ought to have one for purposes of coordination and efficiency, but the question seemed just slightly ridiculous under the circumstances. “Ganner. I’m Ganner One, you’re Ganner Two.” He checked his status display. “Four lit, four green. Open hangar doors.”
“Say please,” Iella said. “Just kidding.”
The Flag Hangar’s lights dimmed, and the outer doors slid aside. Wedge activated his repulsors, sending his X-wing into a wobbly two-meter climb, then hit his thrusters and punched out through the opening before the doors were completely withdrawn.
It was an awkward launch, and thrust wash would have scorched the hangar bulkhead behind the X-wing. Such a launch would have earned him a reprimand back when he was still flying for the Rebel Alliance or the New Republic. Here he didn’t care—he needed to be outside, where the action was.
He and Corran circled to run the length of Errant Venture, heading toward the stern. They could see starfighters and other vehicles dropping out of the ship’s belly bays like explosives dropping from a bomber. The starfighters ignited thrusters, turned toward the world of Corellia, and blasted in that direction. The more distant ones were already leaping forward and vanishing, the visual effect to outsiders of their entering hyperspace.
Two X-wings from the main hangars came alongside, matching speed and vector. Wedge was startled—they hadn’t appeared on his sensor screen until they were a few hundred meters away, but as they drifted into visual range, he saw why. They were StealthX craft, their surfaces looking dark and oddly mottled because of the sensor-defeating coatings they wore.
Wedge changed his comm frequency to a general military hailing range. He thought he knew the answer, but asked anyway: “Who’ve we got there?”
“Hello, Wedge.”
“Luke. I take it your talk with the colonel was cut short. Mara’s your wing, correct?”
“Yes. Going to deal with Errant Venture’s pursuit?”
“Just until the Venture can jump to a safe zone.”
“Makes sense. You do realize that you’re attacking your own allies, don’t you?”
“No one trying to blow up the old man who became my benefactor when I was orphaned is my ally, Luke. By the way, you’re now Ganner Three, and Mara’s Ganner Four.”
There was a short pause. “For Ganner Rhysode?” Luke asked. Rhysode, a Jedi Knight, had died on Coruscant during the Yuuzhan Vong war, fighting—and killing—more enemy warriors in personal combat than perhaps any other combatant in the war.
“Can you think of a better name for someone fighting a delaying action?”
“No. Who’s Ganner Two? Corran?”
Corran’s voice was crisp across the comm channel. “Hello, boss.”
CORELLIAN SPACE
Jacen’s shuttle was on the verge of entering hyperspace and jumping toward the Anakin Solo’s position, just outside the star system on the most direct trajectory toward Coruscant, when he received a new message from the Star Destroyer, relaying Admiral Limpan’s request for assistance at Centerpoint Station.