Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [179]
“Flight Officer Dia Passik is a native of Ryloth.” The Twi’lek woman nodded, looking among the Wraiths as if to guess which one would attack her first. Janson said, “She has experience with a broad variety of New Republic and Imperial vehicles, especially larger space vessels, and knows quite a bit about criminal organization—she’s a new resource for us where things like smuggling, the slave trade, and mercenary operations are concerned.
“Our third pilot is Flight Officer Shalla Nelprin—”
“Oh, no,” Kell said. He banged his head against the fuselage of Face’s X-wing.
Janson looked vaguely amused. “You have something to say, Lieutenant Tainer?”
Kell stopped hammering the snubfighter for a moment. “You’re related to Vula Nelprin?”
The new Wraith’s smile broadened, causing dimples to appear. “She’s my older sister.”
“And your father trained you, too?”
“Yes … though I think I’m a little better than Vula.”
Kell sighed. “I think I’ve told you all about my hand-to-hand instructor in the commandos, the one who could throw me around as though I were a dust rag without even letting me see her sweat—this is her sister.”
Janson said, “This should come as no surprise to you, then: Nelprin is going to be our new trainer in unarmed combat. You make her the best pilot she can be, and she gets to reward you by beating the life out of you. But she’s also well versed in Imperial Intelligence doctrine and tactics, which is helpful to us, since Zsinj seems to be fond of employing Intelligence personnel. Wedge?”
Wedge said, “Make the new pilots welcome, Wraiths. We’re going to put them, and you, immediately to work on our new mission.” He drew his datapad from a pocket and punched in a command on its keys. “I’ve just transmitted to your datapads the details of our assignment … one which, unfortunately, won’t take us off Coruscant yet.” He waved down the chorus of groans that resulted. “Sorry. But our results on this task may determine where we’re assigned next, so pay attention.
“Our efforts in tracking Admiral Trigit and insinuating ourselves into his confidence have gone over very well with High Command. We’ve demonstrated that we have both skill and luck on our side. But now we have to prove it beyond a doubt.
“We’re going to divide ourselves into three groups. Each group is to ask the following questions: What is Zsinj up to? What are his specific plans and strategies? Once you’ve arrived at a set of theories, we’ll put them to the test: We’ll go out into the field and look for evidence to corroborate the best of the theories.
“I’m choosing three of you to head these groups based on your ability with tactical thinking and skill in getting into your enemies’ heads.” Wedge nodded toward three pilots in turn. “Runt, you’re Zsinj-One. Piggy, you’re Zsinj-Two. Face, you’re Zsinj-Three. Choose your teams and confine yourselves, as much as possible, to research resources available here at head-quarters. Questions?”
Janson’s hand went up. “Are we going to be working with Rogue Squadron on this?”
Wedge nodded. “Once we’re off-planet, yes, but not in the theoretical phase. The Rogues are being assigned to General Solo on the Mon Remonda to look for Zsinj; once we get out into the field, we’ll work with them as circumstances demand.”
Tyria was next. “Have they found out whether it was Zsinj who arranged the ambush on us?”
Wedge managed a sour smile. “The survivors of that little operation have been free with their information. But none of them knew who they were working for except the organizer, who assembled them as a team, trained them for this operation, and led the mission. He was the one whose throat Phanan cut.”
Phanan didn’t look abashed. “Oops.”
“General Cracken’s field investigators are trying to backtrack their expenditures and movements; maybe that will turn up some leads for them. Not our problem. Anything else? No? Dismissed.”
In the organizational chaos that followed, Runt chose