"Michael Stackpole "The Bacta War"" - читать интересную книгу автора

"Incom turns around and says that it's working on some new designs and would be
happy to bring Rogue Squadron's ships up to the state of the art. What they
offer are A-wings manufactured by them that have been modified so the laser
cannons can swivel and cover the rear arc."
Wedge nodded. "Nice adaptation, but it doesn't explain how we ended up with
Emtrey."
"I'm getting there, and you'll appreciate the flight, trust me." Tycho pressed
his hands together. "Someone in the mili-tary-probably General Cracken, but
maybe even Admiral Ackbar-decided accepting Incom's gift was appropriate, so all
the equipment in Rogue Squadron was inspected, listed as missing parts, and
surplussed out. Winter found out about it before anyone else, and we scooped up
the lot, including Em-trey and our astromech droids."
Wedge blinked. "Surplussed out? Our stuff was sold as surplus?"
"Broken surplus. It was missing parts."
"Such as?"
"PL-Is"
Wedge frowned. "PL-Is? I've never heard of them."
Tycho shook his head. "That's the designation for pilot."
Wedge immediately began laughing. Someone back on Coruscant favors what we're
doing or perhaps just wants to give us the tools to destroy ourselves. I'm
trusting it's the former. "Emtrey was just thrown in on the deal?"
"He cost a little bit extra, but I thought he was worth it." Tycho coughed
lightly into his hand. "Zraii and his technical staff resigned and followed our
ships over. We've got a full squadron, and the parts you brought in should keep
them operational for a long time."
"Good. How does the base look?"
"Not bad." Tycho pointed back toward the bedroom.
"I'll give you a half an hour to get cleaned up, then I'll give you a tour of
the place. It's not exactly a Death Star, but I think it will work fine for our
purposes."
Clad in a tan jumpsuit, Wedge followed Tycho through the space station. The
small suite he'd been given turned out to be one of the more luxurious ones on
the station. Because of construction costs space was at a premium. Refresher
stations were communal, as were dining facilities. While there were private
rooms for dinner meetings, all food was prepared in a central galley and
delivered to the half-dozen dining facilities on the base. Those same rooms also
served as lounges and recreation facilities.
Tycho led him to the core of the station and punched a button on the wall. "Here
at the core we have nine turbolifts: six are for personnel and three are for
freight."
Wedge reached up and tapped a knuckle against the gray duraplast ceiling.
"Everything seems shrunk down a bit. I feel like a giant."
"It is very compact. I think it was built this way to cause stormtroopers
problems if they ever invaded." As the turbolift door slid open, Tycho passed
through the opening. "There are twenty-five living levels above the docking
facility and twenty-five below it. We're starting at sub-twenty-five. I've got
Emtrey working on the moves that will be necessary to clear the last ten
sublevels for our personnel."
"Moving everyone but our people off would make me feel better, since we know
Isard will eventually figure out where we are."