Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [11]
The door to Ackbar’s office opened and a female Rebel officer led a pilot in a black flight suit into the room. “Admiral, this is Captain Celchu.”
Tycho snapped to attention. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”
“At ease, Mr. Celchu.”
Wedge gave the slightly taller man a reassuring smile.
The Admiral eased himself out of his chair. “You may leave us, Lieutenant.” The Mon Calamari waited for the door to close behind his aide, then he nodded toward Wedge. “Captain Celchu, Commander Antilles has told me that you have agreed to a remarkable number of restrictions on yourself and your activities. Is this true?”
Tycho nodded. “Yes, sir, it is.”
“You realize you will be flying a defenseless bomb, you will have no privacy and no freedom.”
“I do, sir.”
The Mon Calamari closed his mouth for a moment and stared silently at the blue-eyed pilot. “You will be treated no better than I was when I served as a slave to Grand Moff Tarkin. You will be treated worse, in fact, because General Salm here believes you are a threat to the New Republic. Why do you agree to such treatment?”
Tycho shrugged. “It’s my duty, sir. I chose to join the Rebellion. I willingly froze on Hoth. I followed orders and assaulted a Death Star. I volunteered for the mission that got me in all this trouble. I did all those things because that’s what I agreed to do when I joined the Rebels.” He glanced down. “Besides, even the worst you can do to me will still be better than Imperial captivity.”
Sweat gleaming from his bald head, Salm pointed at Tycho. “This is all noble, Admiral, but would we expect anything less from someone in his position?”
“No, General, nor would we expect anything less of a noble son of Alderaan.” The Mon Calamari picked up a datapad from his desk. “I am signing orders to make Captain Celchu the Executive Officer for Rogue Squadron, and to put this Gavin Darklighter in the squadron as well.”
Wedge saw Salm’s expression sour, so he suppressed his own smile. Even so he winked at Tycho. Two flights, two kills.
Ackbar glanced at the datapad’s screen, then looked up again. “Commander Antilles, I expect to be informed about any irregularities or problems with your unit or personnel. An M-3PO military protocol droid has been assigned to your office to help you make out reports. Use it.”
The Corellian rolled his eyes. “As you wish, sir, but I think that droid could be more useful elsewhere.”
“I’m sure you do, Commander, but those decisions are made by those of us who haven’t refused promotions time and time again.”
Wedge held his hands up. “Yes, sir.” I surrender, but you don’t fool me, Admiral. You like mixing it up in battle the same as I do, but you work with the big ships while I like the fast ones.
“Good, I am glad we understand each other.” Ackbar nodded toward the door. “You’re dismissed, the both of you. I imagine you have things to celebrate.”
“Yes, sir.”
“One last thing.”
Wedge looked up and Tycho turned around to face the Admiral. “Sir?” they asked in tandem.
“What did you think about the pilots in the Redemption scenario?”
Wedge looked over at his XO. “Did you get Horn?”
Tycho blushed. “Oh, I got Horn, but just not as much of him as I would have liked.” Smiling proudly, he added, “Admiral, if the pilots I flew against are representative of the rest of the people we have to work with, Rogue Squadron should be operational within a couple of months, and the scourge of the Empire not very much longer after that.”
3
Kirtan Loor struggled to keep a self-satisfied smirk from ruining the stern expression he had worked hard to cultivate. He wanted to appear implacable. He needed