Wraith Squadron Read Online Free PDF Page B

another pilot from Tatooine? No, I’ve never met Luke Skywalker. In fact, I wish I’d never heard of him.”It was an attitude that would not endear her to many of Luke’s friends. Wedge, who was among those friends, simply shrugged it off. Her worth was in her performance, not her lack of appreciation of one good man.
    The second pilot, a human male from Etti IV, was facing a court-martial for theft. He expressed confidence that he would be cleared and asked for a chance to prove himself to Commander Antilles. A minute after he’d gone, Wedge noticed that the framed holo of his long-dead parents was missing from the tabletop. He sent Janson after the compulsive thief and scrubbed him from the candidate roster.
    The third pilot was a Talz, one of the white-furred humanoid inhabitants of Alzoc III. A former Imperial slave, he’d learned to pilot freighters for the Rebel Alliance and had transferred to fighters when the deadly pilot attrition of the year before the Emperor’s death had put a premium on good fliers. But his record showed a history of psychosomatic illnesses and the possibility of mental breakdown increasing in the last several years. His mental evaluations suggested that these problems resulted from conflict between the Talz’s basically gentle nature and the fighter’s mission of destroying enemy targets.
    Wedge and Janson put him through a simulator recreation of the fleet action at the battle of Endor—a target-rich environment where the best fighter pilots racked up impressive kill scores. The Talz did well, but Wedge and Janson watched his biomedical readings climb into the red danger zone—a clear sign that even in simulators, stress was eating away at him. They wished the disappointed pilot a good flight home and recommended a transfer back into freighters.
    “Number four today,” said Janson, “is Lieutenant Myn Donos.”
    Wedge gave his second-in-command a sympathetic look. “Have you had a chance to talk to him?”
    “No, he’s just arrived on base. I read Hobbie’s report, though. New Republic Military Intelligence has cleared him of error or wrongdoing.”
    “Good. Show him in.”
    Janson spoke into his comlink and a moment later a lean man in the standard orange New Republic flight suit entered. He was just over average height, with a round face and a thick mop of black hair. His face betrayed no emotion. He saluted and held it until Wedge returned it.
    “Lieutenant Donos, have a seat.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Donos sat, military-straight.
    “I understand that Command has reviewed the situation on Gravan Seven and cleared you for continued fighter duty. Congratulations.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Donos’s expression did not change.
    Wedge glanced at Janson, who wore a puzzled look as he watched Donos.
    “You’re aware that we’re forming a new X-wing squadron.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Interested in transferring over?”
    “Yes, sir.” There was no enthusiasm in the pilot’s voice, nor was there a trace of the pain he was doubtless still feeling from the destruction of his squadron. Wedge again checked Janson’s reaction; Janson was now leaning back in his chair, studying Donos curiously.
    “Wes tells me that before joining the Alliance, you belonged to the Corellian armed forces. Sniper for an elite counterinsurgency unit.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Are you still sharp as a sniper?”
    “No, sir. I haven’t had a chance to keep up my skills in the last three years.”
    “Do you think you can train up to your previous standard?”
    “Yes, sir.” There was no pride, no enthusiasm in his tone.
    “Do you have a problem with the role of sniper?”
    “No, sir. Whatever my role, my task is the elimination of the enemy.”
    “Right. I also understand that you were decorated on Corellia for conspicuous gallantry. This entitles you to wear the Corellian Bloodstripes. Yet you don’t. Why?”
    Donos took a while to answer. “It just seems a bit silly, sir. I could also wear a