Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [82]
The seven caskets lay atop a repulsorlift platform, each one draped with white cloth to which had been afixed a blue emblem. For six that emblem was the Rebel crest. Lujayne Forge’s shroud bore the Rogue Squadron crest with one of the dozen X-wing fighters cut away. The caskets had been laid out in the center of the starboard fighter bay aboard the Reprieve, with Lujayne’s in the middle.
Directly behind them stood all the members of Rogue Squadron save one. Andoorni Hui had been allowed out of the bacta tank for the duration of the ceremony but she was still too weak to stand unaided. She lay back in a hoverchair, her dark eyes half-lidded and her limbs nearly lifeless. She looked, to Wedge, the way he felt inside—all crushed down by the squadron’s loss.
Behind the pilots stood the techs and crew who had been evacuated from Talasea. Flanking them were the men and women of Salm’s Defender Wing, as well as some of the crew and medical personnel on the Reprieve. The gathering reminded Wedge of the assembly held on Yavin 4 to honor Luke, Han, and Chewbacca for their destruction of the Death Star. I only wish this occasion were as happy a one as that had been.
Wedge stepped out from between Admiral Ackbar and General Salm, looked down at the caskets, then back up again. “Over seven years ago many of our brethren were gathered together in the aftermath of a great battle to commemorate the heroism of our friends. None of us thought, at that time, of how desperate our situation was, or how long our battle against the Empire would continue. The future was, for us, the next minute or hour or day or week. Life expectancy, especially among pilots, was measured in missions and seldom were multiple digits involved in the calculations.
“At that gathering, on Yavin 4, we were able to celebrate our victory as if, with the destruction of that one terrible weapon—the first Death Star—we had brought the Empire crashing down. We knew it wasn’t true—we knew we would abandon Yavin shortly thereafter—but for that time we were able to forget how desperate and difficult our fight for freedom would be.
“We could forget how many more of our friends would die pursuing the common dream of freedom for all people, all species, within the galaxy.”
Wedge swallowed hard against the lump thickening in his throat. “That dream still lives. Our fight continues. The Empire still exists, though its strength ebbs, its tenacity slackens, and its grasp on its worlds weakens. Dying though it is, it can still inflict death and these, the bodies of our comrades, make that fact abundantly clear.
“I will not tell you that Lujayne or Carter or Pirgi or the others would want you to keep fighting, or that your fighting will make their sacrifice worth it. That’s trite, and our friends deserve more than trite. They have given up what we fight to preserve. Our duty, and their silent charge to us, is to continue to fight until the Empire can never again strip life from those who want nothing more sinister than freedom for all.”
He stepped back, then nodded to a technician near the launching bay’s external port. At his signal the repulsorlift platform gently rose and floated toward the vast opening. The ranks of pilots and ground crew parted to let the bier drift past, then closed up again as the platform entered the magnetic containment field around the external port. Once outside the ship, the platform dropped away from beneath the caskets and they hung there, surrounding by stars and vacuum.
The technician used a tractor beam to impel the caskets, one by one, on a gentle course toward the red dwarf burning