Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [88]
“Mission Two is Lara’s meeting with her brother. We hope that will turn out to be nothing more than a joyful family reunion, but there’s a chance that this is a probe by Zsinj. Lieutenant Donos will accompany her, and they’ll be in their X-wings.
“Mission Three consists of me traveling by X-wing back to Coruscant to make a routine report and pick up orders. With our complement of X-wings, up to five more of you can accompany me back and get in a little rest and recreation. Lieutenant Janson will remain here in command of the facility—because he got to go back last time and now it’s his turn.”
Janson’s expression turned glum. “Nobody is allowed to have any fun on Coruscant. If I find out that anyone has had any fun, he gets kitchen duty for a month.”
“We all promise to be miserable, Wes.” Wedge noticed one of the pilots’ hand raised. “Yes, Castin.”
“Sir, you remember the special mission I talked to you about? Sneaking a program into Iron Fist’s communications system so that it will broadcast its location occasionally?”
“I remember. I remember saying it was a good plan … but not for the initial contact mission.”
Castin waved as if to brush away the last part of Wedge’s statement. “Sir, I finished the program.”
“You did?” Wedge nodded. “Excellent.”
“I finished it in time for this mission, sir. It still needs an experienced code-slicer to cut it into the system in question—otherwise it’d never get through the system’s defenses—but it operates flawlessly on my Imperial-computer-system simulators.”
“It won’t be for this mission, Castin. But we’ll try to bring back an upgraded simulator from Coruscant to give you that much more of an edge.”
“Dammit, sir, this is the only opportunity we’re certain we’re going to have. We need to take it. You’re being too cautious, and that’s going to cost us.”
The other pilots looked between Castin and Wedge, all cheer draining from their faces.
Wedge took a deep breath, giving himself a brief moment to calm himself. “Flight Officer Donn.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Flight Officer Donn.”
Suddenly uneasy, Castin looked around, then rose and stood at attention. “Sir.”
“Your tactical sense and gut feeling tell you that now is the time to implement your plan. Mine tell me that later will be better. All else being equal, whose do you think I am going to rank higher?”
“Well, yours, sir.” Castin looked very unhappy under this sudden scrutiny.
“Now, think about this. If we do it my way and I’m right, we’ve saved lives. If we do it my way and I’m wrong, we’ll have missed an opportunity—an opportunity we’ll regain if the rest of the mission goes according to plan and the Hawk-bats begin doing work for Zsinj—and I’ll have both learned something and suffered a slight blow to my reputation, both of which I can survive.
“On the other hand, if we do it your way and you’re right, we conceivably speed up the destruction of Zsinj. But if we do it your way and you’re wrong, you get yourself and the whole team captured or killed, which you can’t survive. Do you see the difference?”
“Yes, sir, but—”
“Save that thought. Now, imagine that you’re a New Republic pilot and you feel a need to criticize a superior officer’s performance or thinking. All else being equal, should you do so in private or in a public forum?”
Castin seemed visibly to sag. “In private, sir.”
“I’ll give you some time to think about that. You’ll be remaining on Hawk-bat Station while your fellows return to Coruscant. Now, sit.”
Castin did, flushing red, looking miserable.
Wedge looked among the other pilots. “Anything else? No? Prep for your missions, then. Dismissed.”
Face caught up with Castin out in the Trench. He asked, “What was that all about?”
Castin shook his head, angry, and didn’t slow his pace … though he was just walking up the middle of the stony shaft with no destination evident. “He’s wrong, Face.