Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [48]
The other pilot’s voice cut in. “I didn’t want to go into combat on an empty stomach.”
Kell snorted. The affection A-wing pilots had for their fighters’ speed was legendary, as was their contempt for any vehicle slower than theirs. “Let’s just keep that little story to ourselves,” he said. “We don’t want Blue Wing pilots to pick up a reputation for turning tail.”
Blue Nine made an outraged noise; it sounded like a giant insectile buzz over the comm transmission. “Ooh, you’ll get it for that.”
“You have your visual sensors oriented toward their projected arrival zone?”
Blue Nine said, “Naturally.”
Blue Ten said, “Oops.”
“Snap it up, Ten.”
For a few minutes they didn’t speak. Then Blue Ten’s voice cut in: “I have them.”
Kell panned his visual sensor around but couldn’t pick up the enemy. “Blue Ten, feed me those coordinates.”
A moment later his screen brightened with a jittery view of numerous tiny glows—TIE fighter ion engines, far to the north.
Kell fed that sensor data to Thirteen and received back the precise map coordinates of the point on the Pig Trough the incoming fighters could cross—that, and the exact time of their arrival there, assuming they did not change speed. Kell said, “This is Wraith Five. Did anyone else run the numbers?”
“Blue Nine here.”
“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”
Their numbers agreed to two significant digits. Kell transmitted them, encrypted, a short burst aimed directly at Folor Base; with luck, the attackers wouldn’t pick up the signal, wouldn’t be able to track it, or would dismiss it as irrelevant.
Kell waited with his hand on the power-up switches. Four minutes until the TIEs reached the Pig Trough. They’d be a long four minutes.
“Wraith Five, I have the Star Destroyer.”
Kell checked his sensors, saw the blip moving in along the wake of the TIE fighters, several minutes back. “The signal wouldn’t be this strong if they didn’t already have their shields up. The captain in charge of that Star Destroyer is pretty cautious. Blues, do you think there’s anything we can do about that capital ship?”
“Wraith Five, Blue Nine. I don’t think so. I suppose we could crash into her bow like bugs hitting a speeder bike. That might upset their frail temperaments.”
“A charming image. Thanks, Blue Nine.” Kell tried to let go of the idea of hindering or diverting the massive vessel, but he couldn’t. If the vessel joined the impending fight between the TIEs and the New Republic fighters, more of his friends and allies would be killed; if it reached Folor Base before the last transport lifted, that ship would never see freedom. He felt the muscles in his upper back begin to knot.
What would turn the Star Destroyer away from its mission, even temporarily? A greater perceived threat? How would they simulate one?
Perhaps a greater prize for the captain to gain … Kell sat upright. “Blues, Wraith Five. Our astromechs are factory-new. No sense of history to them. Does either of you have in your computer records any of the older encryption codes? The expired codes?”
“Blue Ten. I’ve got a whole string of them.”
“Good. Here’s what we do.”
On this final stretch of the Pig Trough, Wedge didn’t bother to check on the formation of the other nine members of Wraith Squadron accompanying him. They’d formed up tight on the straightaways, loosened up for the stretches requiring tight maneuvering, but always formed a screen forbidding General Crespin’s A-wings to pass them.
Up ahead was the fissure bend that marked their exit point—the place where six TIE squadrons would be passing overhead any moment, if Kell Tainer’s math was right. He glanced up above the rim of the cliffs and saw the first of their targets, an oncoming wave of enemy fighters mere seconds from passing overhead.
“Strike foils to attack position,” he said, and followed words with action. “Wraiths, hit the interceptors first if there are any, then bombers if possible. Follow me in—”
“Damned