"Michael Stackpole "Rogue Squadron"" - читать интересную книгу автора

"By the book, or are we doing something fancy?"
Corran hesitated before answering. By book, Nawara Ven had referred to the
general wisdom about the scenario. It stated that one pilot should play
fleethund and race out to engage the first TIE flight while the other three
fighters remained in close as backup. As long as three fighters stayed at home,
it appeared, the Warspite dropped ships off at a con-siderable distance from the
Korolev. When they didn't, it got bolder and the whole scenario became very
bloody.
The problem with going by the book was that it wasn't a very good strategy. It
meant one pilot had to deal with five TIEs-two eyeballs and three dupes-all by
himself, then turn around and engage five more. Even with them coming in waves,
the chances of being able to succeed against those odds were slim.
Doing it any other way was disastrous. Besides, what loyal son of Corellia ever
had any use for odds?
"By the book. Keep the home fires burning and pick up after me."
"Done. Good luck."
"Thanks." Corran reached up with his right
hand and pressed it against the lucky charm he wore on a chain around his neck.
Though he could barely feel the coin through his gloves and the thick mate-rial
of his flight suit, the familiar sensation of the metal resting against his
breastbone brought a smile to his face. It worked for you a lot, Dad, let's hope
all its luck hasn't run out yet.
He openly acknowledged that he'd been depend-ing quite a bit on luck to see him
through the diffi-culties of settling in with the Alliance forces. Learning the
slang took some work-moving from calling TIE starfighters "eyeballs" to calling
Inter-ceptors "squints" made a certain amount of sense, but many other terms had
been born of logic that es-caped him. Everything about the Rebellion seemed odd
in comparison to his previous life and fitting in had not been easy.
Nor will be winning this scenario. The Korolev materialized and moved toward the
Redemption, prompting Corran to begin his final check. He'd mulled the scenario
over in his mind time and time again. In previous runs, when he served as a home
guard to someone else's fleethund, he'd had Whistler record traces on the TIE
timing patterns, flight styles, and attack vectors. While dif-ferent cadets flew
the TIE half of the simulations, the craft dictated their performance and a lot
of their initial run sequence had been preprogrammed. A sharp squawk from
Whistler alerted Corran to the Warspite's arrival. "Great, eleven klicks aft."
Pulling the stick around to the right, Corran brought the X-wing into a wide
turn. At the end of it he punched the throttle up to full power. Hitting
an-other switch up to the right, he locked the S-foils into attack position.
"Green One engaging."
Rhysati's voice came cool and strong through the radio. "Be all over them like
drool on a Hutt."
"I'll do my best, Green Three." Corran smiled and waggled the X-wing as he flew
back through the Alliance formation and out toward the Warspite. Whistler
announced the appearance of three TIE bombers with a low tone, then brought the
sound up as two TIE fighters joined them.
"Whistler, tag the bombers as targets one, two, and three." As the R2 unit
complied with that or-der, Corran pushed shield power full to front and brought
his laser targeting program up on the main monitor. With his left hand he
adjusted the sight-ing calibration knob on the stick and got the two fighters.