"William R. Forstchen & Ben Ohlander - Wing Commander 05 - The Price of Freedom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

Tiger's voice crackled across his radio as she instructed their resident rookie on the finer points of leg
patrols, the "burn-and-turns" that were the daily bread for a system defense squadron. Marlena had done
wonders in bringing the squadron's newest member up to speed in such a short time. He was glad he'd
gone out on the limb for her. Her mouth had hopelessly damaged her prospects for promotion, even
during the war.

He listened to her issue brief instructions to Sparrow, then make gentle corrections as the rookie
attempted to execute them. Her usual sarcasm vanished as she worked with the younger pilot. He
grinned. He hadn't expected her to be such a strong trainer. He made a mental note to add a line of
praise to the "Comments" section of Tigers OER. A kind word from him in the "plays well with others"
section might be enough to convince a board that she was ready to put on captain's pips. Otherwise, she
would be dismissed at years end for "excessive time in grade."

Sparrow, the rookie, had a fine hand, good instincts, and a reasonably good eye for deflection shooting.
He would be a fine asset to the squadron once his training was complete. His attitude needed work,
however. The kid had visions of daring missions from strike carriers dancing in his head. The reality of
duty on a backwater like Nephele was hard for him to bear, especially as a lone "newbie" in an outfit full
of jaded veterans.

Vale knew the kid chafed at not having been born early enough to "do his bit" in the war against the
Kilrathi. He reminded Vale of all the young hotshots whose dreams of glory all too often ended in an
empty casket shot into space. Their "glory" usually turned out to be a name engraved on a beer glass in a
pilots' bar, and a medal mailed home in lieu of a casket.

His tactical plot chirped, drawing him away from his mental meanderings. TheAshiri Maru was drifting.
Again. He selected theMaru's channel from the comm menu.

"Aces leader toAshiri Maru ," he said, hoping his voice didn't betray his irritation.

His comm-screenflickered, the channel menu replaced by theMaru's master, a hatchet-faced woman he
knew only as Frost. "Now what d'yawant ?' she asked in a sullen, exasperated voice. Her expression
made it quite plain that he'd interrupted her in the middle of a critical ship's operation. He guessed from
the filth he saw on the bulkhead behind her that cleaning wasn't a high priority on her ship.

"Adjust course to conform to the convoys movements."

hesaid. He thought he sounded a bit imperious, even to his own ears. He tried to soften his tone. "You're
drifting again. I told you before that we can't protect you if you wander too far."

"An' as I've told you, General," she replied, scratching her armpit, "what you going to protectus from ?
There ain't nothing here in Neph', 'ceptin' you an' us. I dunno why you war-boys keep harassin' honest
folks. The fighting's over, right?"

Vale sighed. The A.Maru's master stared defiantly back at him. It was times like this that he actually
missed the war. Then he could have invoked the Emergency Decrees for failing to comply with military
authorities and blown the smirking bitch into next week if she so much as looked at him cross-eyed.
Martial law, he mused, had its good points.

He was still trying to frame a civil answer to her when Sparrow cut into the channel."Sparrow to Knave."