Star Wars_ X-Wing 09_ Starfighters of Adumar - Aaron Allston [95]
But since inheriting command of Rogue Squadron from Luke Skywalker a decade ago, he’d learned the hard fact that he often saved lives with the right words. He wondered if he had the right words with him now. He thumbed on the comlink and looked out over the vista before him—what seemed like an endless stretch of duracrete thick with fighter-craft, pilots, crewmen, mechanics. Most common were the dark red jumpsuits worn by Yedagon Confederacy pilots and workers; each person’s was decorated by scarves, medals, piping, or other expressions of individuality. Jumpsuits of other colors, representing other nations, were in evidence. Wedge himself wore the garish orange of the New Republic starfighter pilot; Hallis had told the Yedagonians what to look for and they had obligingly equipped Red Flight with the familiar colors.
“People of Adumar,” he said. “That’s the phrase I have to use to address you, because it’s not appropriate to refer to you by the nations of your birth. Today you’re flying as pilots of your world, with the goal of keeping personal greed and ambition from ruining your world.
“Today, from this base and countless others, we’re going to lift off and form the greatest air force your world has ever seen—except one. The forces of Cartann are greater. They’re bigger. So to defeat them, we’re going to have to be better. Here’s how we’re going to do that.
“Every pilot you line up in your weapon brackets is someone concerned with what he’s going to get out of this conflict. How he’s going to profit. Most plan to profit in the accumulation of honor. Honor bought with your blood.
“That pilot is thinking about himself. You’re not going to do that. You’re going to stay focused on your objective. Don’t permit yourself to think about personal duels, about the accolades you’re going to receive. Don’t respond to challenges or personal remarks from the enemy; they don’t deserve your answer. Don’t worry about becoming heroes. The moment you committed yourself to defeating your enemy, at the possible cost of your own lives, you became heroes. That part is done. Now we move on to something more important.
“Focus on your enemy. How he moves. How he fires. What he must be thinking. Where his thoughts will take him. Shoot both at him and at where he’s going. Fight now and a few moments in the future. That gives you the chance to kill him twice. That gives you twice as many guns as he has. And that’s the only way you’re going to win.
“If you let your thoughts stray from your enemy, focus them on what’s waiting for you at home. Not the adulation. The wives, the husbands, the children, the parents. If we fail, they will be defenseless before the forces of Cartann. That should be enough to put your concentration back where it belongs … on the enemy.
“It’s time to go. I salute you, Adumar.” He paused, then said it again: “Adumar.”
A moment later, the nearest fringe of people, including Tycho and Iella, took it up as a chant: “Adumar. Adumar. Adumar.” It rolled across the assembled air armada, gaining in strength and volume.
Wedge let it go only for a few moments, only long enough for every one present to be caught up in it. Then he nodded to Tycho. Tycho thumbed his own comlink, and suddenly the air was split with the sound of a keening siren.
Like an insect mound suddenly disturbed by a giant intruder, the air base abruptly became a sea of running bodies as pilots returned to their fighters, mechanics scrambled to get last-second details in order, flight workers rushed to get late-arriving missiles loaded into aircraft.
Wedge stepped down to the duracrete. Iella came up to him. “You understand,” she said, “if you let yourself get hurt, it’s going to go very badly for you. I’ll make you regret it.”
“I had that figured out,” he said.
She waited