Star Wars_ X-Wing 09_ Starfighters of Adumar - Aaron Allston [5]
Cracken’s face flushed. “You’re coming dangerously close to insubordination, General.”
“No, General.” Wedge took the datacard from Cracken’s hand. “I’m not your subordinate. And what I’m coming dangerously close to is violence. Perhaps you’d better leave.”
Cracken stood there a moment, and Wedge could see him struggling against saying something further. Then the man turned away. The door opened before him.
As he passed through it, Cracken said, “Pack your dress uniform, General.” Then he was gone.
Wedge’s X-wing and the three snubfighters accompanying him dropped out of hyperspace at the same instant.
Unfamiliar stars surrounded them. But within visual range was something he recognized—the white triangular form of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, a 1.6-kilometer-long package of destructive force.
His sensor unit tagged it immediately as Allegiance, his expected rendezvous. But his heart rate still quickened a bit as he oriented his X-wing toward the vessel.
For many years, Star Destroyers had been objects of dread among Rebel pilots. Wedge had fought against so many of them, participating in the destruction of some, losing friends to several. Over the years, the New Republic had captured a number of them, turning their awesome firepower against the Empire. Now they were almost a common sight in New Republic Fleet Command, but Wedge could never rid himself of the presentiment of evil he felt whenever he saw one.
His comm unit beeped and words appeared on the text screen—acknowledgment by Allegiance that they had recognized him, authorization for landing, and a small schematic indicating the small landing bay, suited for dignitaries, where they were supposed to put down.
“Red Flight,” he said, “we are cleared to land. Main starfighter bay. Follow me in.”
He heard acknowledgments from his three pilots, then began a long, slow loop around toward the Star Destroyer’s underside.
Almost immediately his comm unit crackled. “X-wing group, this is Allegiance. You, uh, seem to be off your approach vector for Bay Alpha Two.”
“Allegiance, this is Red Leader,” Wedge said. “We’re inbound for the main bay. By orders of the expedition commander.” He let the comm officer stew over that one for a moment. He, Wedge, was the expedition commander.
There was a moment of delay—just long enough, Wedge estimated, for the comm officer to make one short broadcast to the ship commander and get one short reply. “Acknowledged, Red Leader. Allegiance out.”
Wedge and his companions took up position beneath the gigantic vessel and rose within the spacious confines of the ship’s main bay. Wedge hovered, ignoring the flight line worker beckoning to him with glowing batons, and took a look around.
Starfighters stood ready to launch into battle—A-wings, B-wings, X-wings, Y-wings, and even TIE fighters that had once fought the New Republic. Retrofitted with shields, the TIEs were now a common sight in friendly hangars. Mechanics worked briskly on fighters in need of repair or maintenance. The metal floors and bulkheads wore a dull sheen, showing age and wear but also cleanliness, rather than a shine suggesting that the captain was too concerned with appearance. These were good signs.
The smaller bay they’d originally been directed to could have been put in tiptop shape for their arrival with comparative ease, but the state of affairs in the main bay was a better indicator of how the ship was being run, and things here looked good.
Wedge finally allowed the worker to direct Red Flight to a landing spot, near the vessel’s single squadron of X-wings. The unit patch on those snubfighters, showing a single X-wing soaring high above a mountain peak, identified them as High Flight Squadron. Wedge nodded. They weren’t the best X-wing unit in the fleet, but they were a veteran squadron with plenty of battle experience.
As he and his fellows set down, Wedge saw the main doorway into the bay open upward