Free Rogue Squadron by Michael A. Stackpole Page A

sort of resentment such Imperial action engendered among the people is precisely the means by which the Alliance is able to bring worlds in to joinit. Princess Organa and the host of diplomats working for the Alliance have done more to strengthen the New Republic than the whole Katana fleet could do, if that legend were true and we had control of it. Even so, there is a limit to what the diplomats can do.”
    “Hence the reconstitution of Rogue Squadron.”
    “I think so, Corran.”
    Rhysati frowned. “What am I missing?”
    Corran jerked his head toward Nawara. “He’s saying that the diplomats have pretty much mined all the ore they can find. The worlds who want to join us have; those who don’t, haven’t; and those who aren’t sure will need some convincing. Thyferra, for example, is the source of ninety-five percent of the bacta in the galaxy. They’re neutral right now, and making grand profits selling to all sides, but we want them in our camp. Putting two of their people in Rogue Squadron sends a message to the Thyferrans that we value them. The same goes for having the Bothan in the squadron.”
    “And the unit is commanded by a Corellian and has another Corellian pilot in it.” Nawara tapped himself on the chest. “I’m either a token Twi’lek or a token lawyer.”
    Rhysati laughed. “I’m a token refugee, I guess.”
    Ooryl snapped a trio of fingers against his billet datacard. “Ooryl is token Gand.”
    “So, if this unit is a symbol that’s filled with symbols, the supposition is that we have to do something very symbolic to get more worlds to join the New Republic.” Corran smiled. “As long as that means I get to bring justice to a bunch of Imperial pilots, I’m all for it.”
    “Oh, I think you’ll have that opportunity, Corran.” The Twi’lek’s rosy eyes darkened to thecolor of dried blood. “I’d guess Rogue Squadron will have the greatest of that sort of opportunity.”
    “You think you know what target will be coming up next, Nawara?”
    “It’s only logical, Corran.” Both of the Twi’lek’s head tails twitched in tandem. “Before too long we’ll be going after the biggest symbol of all. Let’s hope they train us very well because Rogue Squadron is bound to be the tip of the spear the Alliance stabs into the heart of the Empire.”
    A chill ran down Corran’s spine. “Coruscant?”
    “The sooner it falls, the sooner the Empire falls apart.”
    “I never wanted to go to Coruscant.” The Corellian pilot smiled. “But if I have to go, doing it in the cockpit of a Rebel X-wing will make the visit just that much more memorable.”

7
    Wedge Antilles killed his proud smile as he began his walking inspection of his X-wing. He brushed his fingers along the underside of its smooth nose cone. “Newly refinished, good.” He emphasized this judgment with a firm nod of his head so those who could not hear him could determine what he was saying and thinking.
    Throughout the cavernous hangar the pace of work had slowed as he came to inspect his ship. His squadron had already cleared the area and waited for him on the dark side of Folor, leaving him alone with the technical staff. Aside from his X-wing, three other X-wings being worked on, and a scattering of other broken-down fighters, there was little to occupy the attention of the crews. While they made a show of rolling up cables and sorting tools, they watched him and his reaction to their work.
    He continued on around to the starboard side of the craft, noticing how clean the crew had gotten the proton torpedo alleys. Another nod. The background hum of conversation picked up in volumeand speed, but Wedge ignored it and continued his walk-around.
    He could have cited dozens of reasons for doing a preflight inspection of his fighter, and all of them would have been good and right and militarily proper. The starfighter had seen him through seven years of pitched battles with a minimal amount of failure. The inspection