Star Wars_ X-Wing 09_ Starfighters of Adumar - Aaron Allston [9]
As their motion carried them around the curve of Adumar, the sun rose over them and then was behind them. When they approached the far day/night boundary, Gate transmitted the next set of course corrections: reduction of speed and descent into the planetary atmosphere.
“Leader, Red Three. Why are we taking the long way around?”
“Three, it’s their course, not ours. I suspect they’re giving us a chance to look at the world.”
“Next time they can send holos.”
Wedge grinned and began the descent into the atmosphere. He brought his shields up and kept his speed fairly high. This would give the population below something to see: The friction of the atmosphere on the shields would make the X-wings look briefly like meteors shooting out of the skies. It would also give him a chance to learn more about their escorts.
The escorts ten klicks below him entered the atmosphere first—and slowed their forward speed to do so. Wedge nodded. That suggested, though it did not prove, that the escorts weren’t able to handle atmospheric reentry as well as an X-wing with shielding. Above him, the high-guard escorts also slowed as they reached the barrier of the atmosphere. Soon Red Flight was far out ahead of the chase vehicles.
They descended toward Adumar’s surface, soon recognizing cities with skyscrapers, cultivated fields, untouched forests, broad lakes and rivers. It was, unlike Coruscant, a pretty world.
Sensors showed more vehicles rising in their path at intervals of fifty and a hundred kilometers, but these vehicles stayed to either side of Red Flight’s course, not pursuing as the X-wings passed. “A gauntlet,” said Red Four.
“Maybe if they were firing,” Wedge said. “Here, they’re more like distance markers.”
“They could keep track of us on sensors,” said Red Three, “and scramble a flight if we veered off our assigned course. I’d like to know what they’re doing. Show of force?”
Wedge shook his head. If this had been a show of force, they would have had a much larger unit of vehicles in the air, and would have been making much closer passes. But Wedge didn’t have the answer, either. “Less chatter, Red Flight.”
One blip rising into their path did so at a halfway point between the “distance marker” vehicles, and its range to Red Flight closed much faster than the rest. It had to be heading toward the X-wings rather than attempting to pace them. As Wedge watched, the sensor board identified the blip as a group of four fighters flying in tight formation. Their course showed them heading straight toward the X-wings. “Heads up, Red Flight,” Wedge said. “This may be trouble.”
His comm unit came alive with transmissions, disjointed phrases crowding one another out. “Rad Flat, tha flightknife approaching your position … Buan ke Shia challenges Waj Antilles! Answer! … Rad Flat autorized to defend … Dyans ke Vasan challenges Was Jansan! Answer!”
“Scramble Red Flight frequency,” Wedge said, and suited actions to words by activating his comm unit scrambler. Now people other than Red Flight listening in on the flight frequency would hear nothing but computer-mangled transmissions. “S-foils to attack position,” he continued. “Two, you’re with me. Three and Four, you’re wingmen.” On the sensor board, four more of the distance-marker aircraft were now breaking from their original courses and looping back toward Red Flight.
“Leader, Three. We can outrun them.”
“No, Three. If this culture really is as pilot-happy as we were told, taking the most sensible course out of here might cost me credibility I need. This could just be a test of nerve.”
“Leader, Four. My nerves are already tested. Can I go home?”
“Quiet down, Four.” Wedge watched the range meter’s numbers