Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [113]
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 looked—and 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 correct—the 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 survival—business 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