"Aaron Allston "Iron Fist" (STARWARS. X-Wing #6)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"We could sponsor her to pilot training and catch Colonel




Repness in his same pathetic tactic." Kell glanced again at Tyria. "I'm in."
"Good. I'll see if I can track her down-Lara Notsil is her name-and then see if Face will keep us off the duty roster long enough to talk to her."
"And if he won't?"
"I'll bring him in on the plan." Anticipating Kell's objec-
tions, Phanan hastily continued, "I won't mention Tyria by name. I can keep her out of the story."
"Well... all right. Let's keep her out of this end of it, too."
"Done."
A day later, they reassembled in the same hangar, all the
Wraiths and more personnel besides.
Face looked over the newcomers with interest. Tallest among them was a human male, on his head an untidy mess of straw-colored hair. Next was a dark-skinned woman with large, alert eyes, a red bead tied to one lock of hair on her fore-head, and a broad smile that suggested that every minute of every day she was thrilled to be alive. The last, and shortest, was a Twi'lek woman, her features startlingly beautiful by hu-man standards but her red-eyed stare forbidding, her brain tails hanging loose behind her instead of being draped over her shoulders in the fashion of a Twi'lek among friends and allies. All three wore the standard orange-and-white New Republic pilot's suit.
"Lots of news today," Wes Janson said, looking over his datapad. He was, Face saw, back to his usual self, his eternally youthful features merry, no sign on them of discomfort from the injury to his side. "Most of it good, some bad.
"Bad news: I'm back. Bad for me, because I was enjoying my rest, and bad for you, because if some of you had been a lit-tle quicker, I wouldn't have been shot. Keep it in mind as I make up assignments over the next few weeks."
He smiled at the chorus of groans that resulted. "Runt,
also, is fit for duty, which is probably both good and bad, be-
cause some of his personalities enjoy working and some
don't." The greatest mental peculiarity of Runt's Thakwaash species, now well known to the Wraiths, was that most had multiple personalities-not caused, as they were among hu-mans, by great emotional trauma, but occurring as a natural part of their mental development. Each of Runt's personalities was adept at a different task, and new personalities tended to emerge as he learned.
"We have new pilots to fill our roster." One of the Wraiths had died at the battle on the moon of System M2398; two more had perished in the fight that destroyed the Implacable. "I present to you Flight Officer Castin Donn, our new com-puter specialist." The blond-haired man nodded cheerfully. Janson continued, "Castin is a native of Coruscant, so the next time we decide to walk into a trap here, we'll take him along to make sure it's a better grade of trap.
"Flight Officer Dia Passik is a native of Ryloth." The Twi'lek woman nodded, looking among the Wraiths as if to guess which one would attack her first. Janson said, "She has experience with a broad variety of New Republic and Imperial vehicles, especially larger space vessels, and knows quite a bit about criminal organization-she's a new resource for us where things like smuggling, the slave trade, and mercenary opera-tions are concerned.
"Our third pilot is Flight Officer Shalla Nelprin-"
"Oh, no," Kell said. He banged his head against the fuse-
lage of Face's X-wing.
Janson looked vaguely amused. "You have something to say, Lieutenant Tainer?"
Kell stopped hammering the snubfighter for a moment.
"You're related to Vula Nelprin?"
The new Wraith's smile broadened, causing dimples to ap-pear. "She's my older sister."
"And your father trained you, too?"
"Yes... though I think I'm a little better than Vula."
Kell sighed. "I think I've told you all about my hand-to-
hand instructor in the commandos, the one who could throw me around as though I were a dust rag without even letting me see her sweat-this is her sister."



Janson said, "This should come as no surprise to you, then: Nelprin is going to be our new trainer in unarmed com-bat. You make her the best pilot she can be, and she gets to re-ward you by beating the life out of you. But she's also well versed in Imperial Intelligence doctrine and tactics, which is helpful to us, since Zsinj seems to be fond of employing Intelli-gence personnel. Wedge ?"
Wedge said, "Make the new pilots welcome, Wraiths.
We're going to put them, and you, immediately to work on our new mission." He drew his datapad from a pocket and punched in a command on its keys. "I've just transmitted to your data-pads the details of our assignment... one which, unfortunately, won't take us off Coruscant yet." He waved down the chorus of groans that resulted. "Sorry. But our results on this task may determine where we're assigned next, so pay attention.
"Our efforts in tracking Admiral Trigit and insinuating ourselves into his confidence have gone over very well with High Command. We've demonstrated that we have both skill and luck on our side. But now we have to prove it beyond a doubt.
"We're going to divide ourselves into three groups. Each group is to ask the following questions: What is Zsinj up to? What are his specific plans and strategies? Once you've arrived at a set of theories, we'll put them to the test: We'll go out into the field and look for evidence to corroborate the best of the theories.
"I'm choosing three of you to head these groups based on your ability with tactical thinking and skill in getting into your enemies' heads." Wedge nodded toward three pilots in turn. "Runt, you're Zsinj-One. Piggy, you're Zsinj-Two. Face, you're Zsinj-Three. Choose your teams and confine yourselves, as much as possible, to research resources available here at head-quarters. Questions?"
Janson's hand went up. "Are we going to be working with Rogue Squadron on this?"
Wedge nodded. "Once we're off-planet, yes, but not in the theoretical phase. The Rogues are being assigned to General Solo on the Mon Remonda to look for Zsinj; once we get out into the field, we'll work with them as circumstances demand."
Tyria was next. "Have they found out whether it was Zsinj who arranged the ambush on us?"
Wedge managed a sour smile. "The survivors of that little operation have been free with their information. But none of them knew who they were working for except the organizer, who assembled them as a team, trained them for this opera-tion, and led the mission. He was the one whose throat Phanan cut."
Phanan didn't look abashed. "Oops."
"General Cracken's field investigators are trying to back-track their expenditures and movements; maybe that will turn up some leads for them. Not our problem. Anything else? No? Dismissed."
In the organizational chaos that followed, Runt chose Kell and Tyria as his partners; Face took Phanan and Janson; and Piggy chose Myn, and rounded out his group by adding Squeaky, the unit's 3PO quartermaster, to his roster. By silent agreement, each of the three virtual Zsinjes took one of the new squadron members: Runt took Shalla, Piggy chose Castin, and Face took the Twi'lek Dia.