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

Antilles, I expect to be informed about any irregularities or problems with your
unit or personnel. An M-3PO military protocol droid has been assigned to your
office to help you make out reports. Use it."
The Corellian rolled his eyes. "As you wish, sir, but I think that droid could
be more useful elsewhere."
"I'm sure you do, Commander, but those deci-sions are made by those of us who
haven't refused promotions time and time again."
Wedge held his hands up. "Yes, sir." / surrender, but you don't fool me,
Admiral. You like mixing it up in battle the same as I do, but you work with the
big ships while I like the fast ones.
"Good, I am glad we understand each other." Ackbar nodded toward the door.
"You're dismissed, the both of you. I imagine you have things to celebrate."
"Yes, sir."
"One last thing."
Wedge looked up and Tycho turned around to face the Admiral. "Sir?" they asked
in tandem.
"What did you think about the pilots in the Re-demption scenario?"
Wedge looked over at his XO. "Did you get Horn?"
Tycho blushed. "Oh, I got Horn, but just not as much of him as I would have
liked." Smiling proudly, he added, "Admiral, if the pilots I flew against are
representative of the rest of the people we have to work with, Rogue Squadron
should be operational within a couple of months, and the scourge of the Empire
not very much longer af-ter that."
3
Kirtan Loor struggled to keep a self-satisfied smirk from ruining the stern
expression he had worked hard to cultivate. He wanted to appear implacable. He
needed to be merciless.
He feared he would fail on both counts, but laid the blame on his eagerness to
confront an old nem-esis finally brought to heel. What had been a blot on his
record would soon be expunged. More impor-tantly, people who had ridiculed him
would learn they had grossly underestimated him. And in doing so they had doomed
themselves.
Kirtan held his head erect as he marched down the companionway on the
Expeditious. The Car-rack-class light cruiser had not been built to ac-commodate
people of his height, so he felt some of his black hair brush against the
ceiling. A more cau-tious man would have slumped his shoulders slightly and
lessened the chance of bashing his head on a light fixture or bulkhead support.
Kirtan, having once been told that he looked every inch a taller, younger Grand
Moff Tarkin-from thinning wid-ow's peak and lanky frame to sharp features in a
ca-
daverously slender face-did his best to emphasize the resemblance.
Even though Tarkin was nearly seven years dead, the resemblance still earned him
some respect. On an Imperial naval vessel, respect for an Intelli-gence officer
such as himself was in short supply, so he took what he could get. The military
arm of the Empire clearly resented having the government be-ing run by the
Emperor's former Intelligence chief, and they took their displeasure out on the
least of her servants.
Kirtan ducked his head and entered the ante-chamber of the Expeditious's brig.
"I am here to in-terview the prisoner you took off the Starwind."
The Lieutenant in charge glanced at his datapad. "He just got back from