Star Wars_ X-Wing 04_ The Bacta War - Michael A. Stackpole [159]
Their pilots climbed down from their cockpits into a whirlwind of celebration: New Republic diplomats and old friends dragging them up onto the speakers platform, clouds of confetti raining down from the skyscrapers ringing the plaza, roars of appreciation and exuberance from the thousands in the plaza. Wedge managed to get handshakes and backslaps from Hobbie and Red Squadron’s second-in-command, Wes Janson, before being dragged into line formation with all the pilots; the crowd’s roar was too overwhelming to allow them to hear one another’s words.
At the front of the platform, at the speakers lectern, stood the New Republic Provisional Council’s best-loved speaker, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Unlike most of the New Republic’s representatives present, she was dressed simply, in a belted robe of senatorial white. She caught Wedge’s eye and gave him a smile and half shake of the head, acknowledging their mutual dislike of public spectacles such as this, then turned back toward the crowd.
With a few waves of her hand she managed to reduce the crowd’s roar to the point her amplified voice could be heard above it. “Citizens of the New Republic, I present to you Rogue Squadron!” Another protracted roar, and then she continued, “Before I bring Commander Antilles up to speak, I think I should put the squadron’s recent accomplishments in perspective. With their efforts, we now have, once again, a steady supply of bacta—a supply sufficient to stamp out the last lingering effects of the Krytos Plague. With their efforts—”
Wedge tuned her out. This was all old news to him. Weeks before, he’d led Rogue Squadron—the true Rogue Squadron, the men and women now in civilian dress—on a mission that the New Republic military command could not support. Resigning their commissions, the members of Rogue Squadron and a handful of professional insurgents had mounted a civilian action against the new government of the world of Thyferra, the world where the overwhelming majority of bacta, the miracle medicine, was produced. That new government was headed by the Empire’s former espionage leader, Ysanne Isard, and could have become the core of a reunited Empire.
But now Ysanne Isard was dead, and Rogue Squadron’s resignations had apparently been creatively misfiled—meaning that they were never civilians—meaning that, with the mission’s success, the New Republic was retroactively making the Thyferran mission an officially sanctioned operation.
None of which explained the presence of a new Rogue Squadron flying the unit’s traditional colors. Wedge traded places with Tycho, his second-in-command, to stand beside Hobbie Klivan. “So tell me about this ersatz Rogue Squadron.”
The pilot with the perpetually mournful face shook his head. “It’s not ersatz. Just sort of auxiliary. For morale purposes, the Alliance needed a visible Rogue Squadron while you were off playing pirate. So they brought me and Wes back from training-squad duty to cobble together a temporary Rogue Squadron.”
“Temporary.”
Hobbie nodded. “We brought in some Rogue Squadron veterans—Riemann, Scotian, Carithlee, several more—and a couple of new pilots each out of Gauntlet and Corsair Squadrons. Now that you’re back, they all return to their original units. Except—”
“Except what?”
“Except me and Wes. We’re back for good. Subject to your approval. That’s the reward we were unofficially promised by High Command.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.” At Hobbie’s stricken look, Wedge smiled. “I’m kidding you. Welcome home. Is Gauntlet Squadron active? I thought they were still in diapers.”
“You’re behind the times. Corsair was our first squadron, Gauntlet our second, and our third, Talon, was just commissioned.”
“Who’s commanding?”
“Lieutenant Myn Donos. A good pilot, smart—”
Lieutenant Wes Janson, still baby-faced