Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [30]
Face asked, “Corpsman?”
Phanan shook his head. “No. I used to be Dr. Phanan. Fully licensed to cut you open and weld you shut again.”
Tyria leaned across Kell and whispered, “Why did you give it up?”
He gave her his most diabolic smile and whispered back, “Because I didn’t care for patching up people I don’t care about and do enjoy killing people I hate.”
Tyria drew back with a shudder.
Wedge nodded to the female Mon Calamari sitting on the front row; her chin barbels twitched at the recognition. “Jesmin Ackbar is our communications expert. Voort saBinring, Piggy, is proficient in hand-to-hand combat, and capable of infiltrating Gamorrean units, which will be helpful on certain worlds. Hohass Ekwesh, Runt, has substantial physical strength—nearly three times greater than a human of equal size, and I understand he’s small for a member of the Thakwaash species. Eurrsk Thri’ag, whom most of you have met as Grinder, is our code-slicer.” The Bothan named Grinder sat upright, his gorgeous silvery fur rippling, and nodded at Wedge. Kell didn’t know much about him; he’d kept to himself much of the time, not bonding with any of his flying partners.
Wedge continued, “Tyria Sarkin is one of our intrusion experts; she is a member of the Antarian Rangers from Toprawa, and particularly proficient in silent movement in difficult terrain.”
Kell restrained a whistle. He’d never heard of the Antarian Rangers, but he knew the name Toprawa: a human-occupied planet where members of Alliance Intelligence had staged the critical data that led to the destruction of the first Death Star. Not long afterward, Imperial forces had savagely destroyed the world’s armed forces, incinerated its cities, and sent the entire native population out of the cities to live in undeveloped wilderness. Kell had heard that the surviving inhabitants had to participate in regular rituals of self-degradation before the Imperial conquerors in order to receive food.
Wedge shut down his datapad. “All right, wingmates and designations. I’m Gray Leader or Gray One. I’m taking both designations to limit confusion. Mistress Ackbar, you’ll fly with me as Gray Two.”
The Mon Calamari nodded again. “An honor, sir.”
“Falynn, you’re Three. Grinder, you’re Four.” Both the woman from Tatooine and the Bothan looked unhappy with the pairing. Kell suspected that neither would be pleased with any wingman assignment.
“Kell, you’re Five. Can you guess who’s Six?”
“Runt, sir?”
“You’re developing into something of a genius, Kell.” The others laughed. Wedge continued, “Ton Phanan, Seven. Face, Eight. I want the majority of the squadron’s sarcasm concentrated in one wing pair so we can dispose of it more conveniently.
“Lieutenant Donos, Nine, you’re with Tyria, Ten. Lieutenant Janson is Eleven, paired with Piggy, Twelve. When we break down into four-fighter flights, I’m in charge of One Flight, Kell’s in charge of Two Flight, and Janson’s in charge of Three Flight. Any questions on organization?”
There were none.
“Good. You’re done for the day. Except you, Mr. Tainer: We’ve received the first delivery of new X-wings, four of them so far, and I want you and the mechanics to go over them this evening. Join us in the X-wing hangar in fifteen minutes. Tomorrow, live-fire exercises in the real thing.” Wedge smiled through the pilots’ whoops and cheers, then added, “Dismissed.”
· · ·
Wedge waited until the last of them was gone. “What do you think?”
Janson stretched; tendons popped. “A pretty good roster … if we can keep them out of trouble. Some of them are experienced hard cases.”
“How are you getting along with Tainer?”
Janson slumped in his chair and grimaced. “Oh, outwardly, pretty well. But every time he sees me he shoots me this look of pure hate and knots up into a ball of quivering muscle. He spooks me sometimes. I don’t like being comforted by the presence of my blaster on base; I’d prefer to be able to relax among allies.”
Wedge nodded.