[Black Fleet Crisis] - 02(114)
“You’re planning to send out twenty-four scouts, and you expect to lose fourteen or fifteen of them.”
“Based on what we encountered at Doornik Three Nineteen—yes. The losses will probably be heavier among the recon-X’s than the drones, on account of speed and size,” A’baht said. “Do I have your authorization, Madame President? “
“Have you considered putting this off until we can get some additional drones out to you?”
“We did consider it. I would be uncomfortable with waiting, Madame President. We need information now.
We’re vulnerable without it.”
Thinking about the pilots of those recon-X fighters, Leia drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Very well.
You may proceed, General,” she said. “What else do you need from us?”
“Replacement fighters,” he said without hesitation.
“What’s the status of the first ferry flight?”
“Assembling now at Zone Ninety East,” Leia said, glancing at the report Ackbar had supplied to her.
“Twenty-four E-wings, X-wings, and B-wings to cover the losses at Doornik Three Nineteen.”
“Don’t hold them up on this account—I wish we had them here already,” General A’baht said. “But you can get ready to send us some more.”
“How long?”
“I took the liberty of prepositioning several of the drones,” A’baht said. “We’ll be launching the first scout into Koornacht in ninety minutes.”
The delta-winged Yevethan fighter banked more sharply than Plat Mallar expected and bore in toward his X-wing’s port side. That quickly, he was trapped. No maneuver he knew—no twisting roll, no amount of climbing or diving—could carry him clear of the Yevetha’s fire zone.
In desperation, he turned away from the enemy fighter and tried to run from it. Twenty seconds later a pinpoint laser bolt blasted through the armor on the tail-plate.
The aft end of the fuselage exploded, sending all four stabilizers spinning wildly away. Moments later Mallar’s displays went black.
Mallar tore off his helmet and mopped the perspiration off his face as the scoring came up.
SIMULATOR MODULE 82Y—SINGLE COMBAT T-65 VS. YEVETHAN D-TYPE PILOT: MALLAR, PLAT 9938
DURATION 02:07
LASER CANNON SHOTS FIRED: 0
HITS: 0
PROTON TORPEDOES FIRED: 0
HITS: 0
OPPONENT SHOTS FIRED: 6
HITS: 3
COMBAT RESULT: YEVETHAN VICTORY
As he climbed disgustedly out of the simulator, Mallar found Admiral Ackbar waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder.
“I see you were trying the new simulation.”
An embarrassed look crossed Mallar’s face. “Did you watch?”
Ackbar nodded. “Your last three runs. You’re not alone. Several of our pilots made similar miscalculations at Doornik Three Nineteen,” he said. “It appears the Yevetha have a greater tolerance for g-forces than the pilots for whom New Republic fighters were designed.”
“Than human pilots, you mean,” Mallar said.
Ackbar’s mouth worked. “Yes. It is occasionally frustrating to be held back by their limitations.” He nodded toward the simulator. “Are you going back in?”
“No,” Mallar said, and started down the ladder.
“I see—” “There’s just no way, with an X-wing.” His tone was both annoyed and discouraged. “It’s not quick enough against a D-type. And the operator won’t let me start training on an E-wing yet.”
Ackbar snorted. “He must belong to that stodgy old order of instructors that believes in mastering one skill before taking on another.” Reaching up toward Mallar, Ackbar held out a data card. “I was in the Mission Planning Office and saw this come up for you,” he said. “I was coming this way, so I signed for you. I think you should look at it now.”
“What is it?”
“Your orders,” Ackbar said. “You’ve been placed on alert.”
“Me? Why?” He fumbled with the data card reader.
“Ferry pilot?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Problem no! It’s terrific. I just didn’t expect—” “Most of the available pilots went with the ferry flight that just left. Why do you think it’s so quiet here?
But another flight will go out in the next fifty hours.
You’ll be the last called—but you may be called on all the same, to take a recon-X out to the Fifth Fleet.”
“Gladly. It’s something,” Mallar said. “It counts for something.
Thank you, sir.”
Ackbar frowned crossly. “Airman Mallar, if you are called, it’ll be because someone with considerably more experience did no better out there against the real thing than you did in here against the simulator. Does that make your orders any more clear?”