Star Wars_ X-Wing 08_ Isard's Revenge - Michael A. Stackpole [32]
The Mon Cal kept his voice low. “Ah, General, these seats are for junior officers. Staff officers sit over there.”
Wedge hesitated for a second, feeling his cheeks burn with a blush. “Thank you for correcting me.”
“Not correcting, General, informing.”
Wedge suppressed a shiver as he moved to the chair Captain Jhemiti had pointed to. The Mon Cal nodded as Wedge slid it out from the table. Wedge seated himself and scooted the chair forward, then stared down at the keypad and monitor, water bottle and glass, comlink holder and personal datapad recharge jack built into his place at the table. He glanced down at the place where he’d meant to sit and saw none of that stuff.
Hmmmm, rank isn’t all bad. He smiled, then killed the smile as the other senior officers began to filter into the room. General Horton Salm took a seat across from Wedge. The balding, mustached pilot gave him a quick nod, then turned to speak with the tall, blue-skinned Duros Admiral coming to the table beside him. Wedge himself offered a hand to the redheaded woman seating herself on his left.
“I’m Wedge Antilles.”
“I’ve heard of you, General Antilles, but what Corellian hasn’t.” She smiled easily at him. “I’m Admiral Areta Bell, also of Corellia.”
Wedge smiled. “We actually met on Hoth, didn’t we? You were the navigator on the transport Tarrin flew, the one that Luke and I took out through the Imp fleet.”
“That’s right, the Dutyfree.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“How could I forget. You plotted a great course that got us through in a spot the Imps thought no one could go.” He swiveled his chair toward her. “What do they have you flying now?”
“I command the Swift Liberty. It’s an old Victory Deuce, but it’s functional. We’re often paired on ops with Admiral Kir Vantai’s Moonshadow.”
Wedge glanced at the Duros Admiral for a moment, then back to Areta. “That’s an Impstar Deuce, right?”
The answer came from behind him as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Yes, an Impstar Deuce, the same as my Freedom.”
Wedge spun around and offered his hand to a tall, slender, black-haired man whose goatee had been grown into a full beard and was now shot with white in stripes leading down from the corners of his mouth. “Commander Sair Yonka, good to see you again.”
“And good to see you as well. When last we met, I think my ship was still being refitted at Sluis Van.”
“Right, but Thrawn’s mole-miners didn’t get to it, so you actually managed to do some fighting against Thrawn. You were at Bilbringi, as I recall.”
“We were.” Yonka’s blue eyes focused a bit distantly for a moment. “The Freedom didn’t get hit, but I lost a freighter that served as a supply ship for me. Had Thrawn not died, I suspect we all would have been hit much harder.”
Admiral Ackbar passed behind Salm and Vantai to take his place at the head of the table. “The fact is, Commander Yonka, Thrawn did die. This puts us in a very interesting Position. Please, be seated, all of you, and I will begin the briefing.”
While Ackbar waited for everyone to be seated, Captain Jhemiti closed the doors to the briefing room, activated the antisensor fields, then dimmed the lights. The Mon Calamari Admiral hit a couple of buttons on the keypad at the head of the table and Krennel’s image burned to life above the holoprojector plate set in the middle of the briefing table.
“As you have all been informed, Prince-Admiral Delak Krennel will be the target of a series of operations. The method by which we go after him is going to have to be very skillful. It is not common knowledge, but the war against Thrawn taxed our military resources rather heavily. We are still more than capable of maintaining a defensive posture that would make any attack against us punishing, but our ability to launch offensive operations is limited. General Garm Bel Iblis’s return to the New Republic has supplemented our forces