Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [115]
The realization that this blow struck at the Empire would make life easier for the sorts of criminals he and his father and grandfather used to hunt didn’t tarnish the mission. He’d never believed the “virtuous bandit” myth most criminals like to wrap around themselves—raiding the affluent to give to the destitute was a pattern often claimed, but he’d seen no evidence of it. Still he couldn’t deny the contribution of folks like Han Solo or Mirax Terrik to the Rebellion. And how could one compare the minor evil of a Hutt with the grand evil of a government that would conceive of, build, and utilize weapons that could destroy planets?
If we cap the wellspring of evil, cleaning up all the little puddles it leaves behind will be that much easier.
Wedge looked at all of the pilots. “This mission isn’t going to be easy, but I know we can do it.”
Corran nodded to him. “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be a Rogue Squadron mission.”
“And if it wasn’t given to Rogue Squadron,” Bror added, “it would have no chance of being accomplished.”
“If ego could power shields, you’d be invincible.” Wedge shook his head. “You’ve got twelve hours to kill before you hit the line. No drinking and definitely get some sleep. You can’t use the holonet for obvious security reasons, but if you want to record some messages for friends and family and leave them with Emtrey, he’ll see to their disposition in the worst case. Get going, I’ll see you at 0800 on the line.”
“We’ll be there, Commander.” Corran tossed him a quick salute. “Nervous as Sithspawn in the glow of a Jedi’s lightsaber, but ready for whatever the Empire throws at us.”
Wedge watched his pilots walk away and saw both Shiel and Erisi catch up with them. He turned and smiled at Tycho. “Nice flying in the sim. You wouldn’t have bagged me if that belly pod hadn’t slowed my climb.”
The Alderaanian pilot shrugged. “Fifth time’s the charm.”
Wedge pointed toward the retreating knot of pilots. “Do they ever seem like kids to you—kids who shouldn’t be in this at all?”
“Gavin, yes, and Ooryl because of the insular life he’s led. The rest of them only surrender a year or two to us.”
“I know that, but it seems like the Emperor’s death was the end of an era. They’ve all jointed after the New Republic was established. Before that we were outlaws fighting the legitimate government. Now we’re a movement that is bringing freedom to countless worlds.” Wedge shook his head. “Sometimes I think they’ve joined us because of the romance of the Rebellion’s having struck a blow against the Empire. We brought down Darth Vader, killed the Emperor, and destroyed the Death Stars.”
Tycho brushed a lock of brown hair from his forehead. “I hope you’re not heading toward the idea that they don’t really know what they’re getting into. I seem to recall hearing that same speculation about the new pilots in the squadron before Endor. Back then you saw the destruction of the first Death Star as what marked the end of an epoch.”
Wedge had memories flood back. “Yeah, I guess I did think about that then, didn’t I? The situation was different, though.”
“No it wasn’t. Look, Wedge, none of us have been through all you have. I joined up after Yavin, so I’ve been here for a long time, but for me Biggs and Porkins and the others are just legends. For you they’re memories—friends you’ve lost.” Tycho threw an arm across Wedge’s shoulders. “These guys have lost friends, too. There’s not a one of them that doesn’t know the odds of surviving this run are about …”
Wedge held up a hand. “Don’t give me odds. You know Corellians have no tolerance for odds.”
“Which is why you so willingly play sabacc.”
“And why so many of us are part of the Rebellion.”
The