Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [31]
Wedge switched places with Janson again and let the man act as guard. In a whisper, he explained the situation to the others and asked, “Ideas?”
Castin said, “I might be able to slice into the base’s main computer and have them relieved of duty; we just march two of us in and dismiss them or blast them.”
Wedge considered it. “That could work, but you’d have to maintain the computer breach or execute another one just a few minutes later when we sort out our escape vector.”
“True.”
Dia said, “I vote we wait until we can be sure there’s no cross traffic nearby and no one observing them—”
“Which means waiting until we also know they’re not in communication with someone else over their headsets,” Kell said.
“—and just step out and shoot them. Two shooters, no waiting. Run out, grab them and haul them back beside the building, substitute a couple of us for them. Then take as long as we need to get their access keys and codes and go in.”
Wedge shook his head. “Sounds too simple.” Then he reconsidered. “On the other hand, that’s probably a virtue. All right, we’ll do it that way. But first, Runt, can you find out whether those two are broadcasting? Search nonstandard frequencies in the Imperial ranges and look for low-powered signals; if they’re just chatting, they’re not going to be on the usual bands.”
Runt nodded and, from a belt pouch, brought out the field dispatcher’s comlink that was among the latest toys the New Republic had given him when he volunteered to be the squadron’s new communications specialist. The item looked like a slightly bulkier datapad. It had nowhere near the range of features of the field communications unit their former comm specialist, Jasmin Ackbar, used to carry, but it was the biggest comm unit they could carry inconspicuously while in stormtrooper armor.
Runt tapped through a series of functions, grew impatient with the device, and traded places with Wes. There, he could set the device on the ground and protrude its nose just beyond the building corner. Finally he nodded. “We have it,” he whispered back at the others. “Their signal sounds like dispatch information, but it is confusing. Set your comlinks to oh-three-oh-seven-four if you want to hear.”
Wedge did so, and immediately picked up the two guards’ traffic.
One of them, his voice a mellow bass, said, “Light assault vehicle twelve to block alpha two.”
The other, whose hoarse voice probably started in the baritone range, replied, “TIE four to block delta sixteen.”
“That’s outside your range.”
“It is not.”
“So you’re crossing through the plasma wall and exploding? Nice of you to concede a piece that way.”
“Uh … make that TIE four to block delta twelve.”
“Heavy emplacement one fires on TIE four. Scratch TIE four.”
“Damn. Target-paint heavy emplacement one.”
Wedge switched off the channel and looked at the others. “Anyone recognize that traffic?”
Dia nodded. Wedge imagined that she had to be quite uncomfortable with her brain tails stuffed up in her stormtrooper helmet, but she hadn’t made a noise of complaint. She said, “It’s called Quadrant. It’s a game out of the Imperial Academy. An old game, but it has recently become all the rage.”
Wedge asked, “Runt, is there a data transmission accompanying that vocal signal?”
Runt shook his head.
Wedge snorted. “They’re playing just by visualization. Wonderful. We get the hangar guarded by intellectuals. All right, here’s how we play our game. Wes, Donos, you’re our shooters. Wes, march around to the far front corner and situate yourself. We’re not going to use a comlink signal—it might be picked up. We’ll time it. You two set your blasters to stun. Sync your chronos and fire at three minutes from sync … unless you hear or see anything anomalous, in which case you duck under cover and try again at six minutes. If no opportunity presents itself by six minutes, scrub the mission and get back here. Tainer, you go with Wes to haul off the other guard; Phanan, you take the place of the other guard. Runt,