X-WING

PART II Early Training: Strategy & Tactics

　My life ended on Agamar and began again on the Rebel flagship Independence. I came up on a crowded shuttle soon after Mon Mothma delivered the speech that had so inspired me. Mon Mothma had already gone up in a different shuttle, but there were several members of the ship's crew as well as three other new recruits from Agamar. Lynia was there, sitting next to me. I suppose that I looked nervous.
　"Don't worry," she said. "You'll be fine."
　I turned and met her lavender eyes as steadily as I could. It was my first time off-planet, my first time in a starship, and my first time making a big decision in my life without my family to advise me.
　"I'm not worried at all," I lied. "I just can't wait to get my hands on the controls of a starfighter."
　She laughed, clearly seeing through my bravado, and then turned more serious. "There's no other task you think you could perform for the Alliance!" she asked. "Nothing other than flying one of those death traps!"
　Death traps? What kind of talk was that? Feeling mocked and underestimated, I told her, "You wouldn't understand." My tone was surly. "Wouldn't I!" she bristled, her expression momentarily stricken. "If you're still around in a few weeks, come ask me about my brother."
　I felt like a real fool. What I had thought was mockery was probably real concern. She obviously knew something more than I about starfighters and starfighter pilots. Still, I could not let her shake me. There was one, and only one, goal before me.
　"I'm sorry," I told her. "I didn't mean to snap. But I know what I'm here for."
　She looked at me with a half smile that told me I was forgiven, but that she still harbored doubts. We sank into silence again.
　I had never seen anything like it. The Mon Calamari vessel was huge. Our tiny shuttle floated next to it like a bitz bug next to a bantha. The strange organic shapes of the hull turned into elongated hemispheres when seen from this close. Here and there I saw long streaks of black - battle scars, I guessed.
　I nearly missed my first sight of an X-wing. It flashed by our shuttle, and I caught just a glimpse of it through the viewport. How can I describe that moment? For a boy whose ideas of power and speed had been embodied in a maxed-out landspeeder, this was pure poetry. The X-wing moved like a bird of prey, its S-foil wings glinting in the burning light of the sun, cleaving the emptiness of space silently and with deadly grace. Then it was gone, and I spent the rest of the shuttle ride searching for another.
　I saw no more X-wings that day. but I had plenty to occupy my attention. The shuttle docked in a huge airlock near the rear of the Calamarian vessel. At least I assumed that it was the rear. The Calamarian design was unlike anything I had seen, but I think that I spotted the engine housings just before we entered the lock.
　As we disembarked. Lynia hesitated and then said. "Good luck. I'll look you up in a few days. Just to see how you're doing." Before I could think of anything else to say, she was gone.
　We were in a shuttle bay, and dozens of shuttles of different sizes were there. I looked hopefully for another glimpse of a starfighter, but there were none.
　"New recruits from Agamar." boomed a basso voice. "Please report to me. Gart! Poussan! Jan-lo! Farlander!"
　I jumped at the sound of my name. Somehow, hearing it spoken in this strange place made the reality, and finality, of my decision solidify in my mind. This wasn't a dream. I was really here!
　The source of the voice turned out to be a short alien creature with large, nocturnal eyes, gray-green skin, and a puzzled-looking expression seemingly indigenous to its face. It was dressed in a military uniform and blinked every few seconds. After the creature had assured itself that we were all present, it set out briskly toward a far wall. I followed with the other new recruits as we trekked through the gigantic hangar. There were luminous arrows in the floor, and we seemed to be following them.
　A crosshatch of structural beams arched overhead, layer on layer of flattened ribbon-like constructions that formed the outer shell of the Independence. I had never seen anything built like this and had no idea even what the building material was. Nothing was square or at right angles. It was a little disorienting. It looked incredibly strong, though.
　The luminous arrows led us to an iris that opened when we approached. On the other side was a long, well-lit hallway, wide enough to accommodate at least five people abreast. Iris doors lined the hallway, and unfamiliar devices studded the walls, but our guide continued without allowing us time to examine these Calamarian wonders.
　There was plenty of activity around us, and I guessed that we were in one of the main routes through this part of the ship. I saw many humans, of course, but I also spotted a variety of nonhumans and droids - most of them completely unfamiliar to me. The hallway was anything but straight, curving first to the right for a while and then back again to the left. I judged that we were taking a serpentine route toward the center of the cruiser.
　After about ten minutes of nonstop marching, we came upon a smaller hallway, a tributary to this main stream. After another minute or two, we were delivered into a small room containing nothing but a table, ten chairs, and a couple of plaques on one wall. Our guide said, "Wait here," and left us.
　"What do you think will happen now!" asked one of the others. He was a tall, thin young man with reddish hair and small, slit-like eyes. He had fidgeted on the shuttle and was obviously having trouble staying calm. His name was 'Ndranth Poussan, I think. I had spoken to him once before, on Agamar, but I hardly knew him.
　"We wait," answered another of the Agamarians. Sunnar Jan-lo was a strong, committed member of the Resistance. Solidly built, decisive and energetic, Jan-lo had always been a leader on Agamar. She had said nothing during the long shuttle ride. Now her comment was characteristically short and to the point. She sat at the table and motioned for Poussan and Breth Gart, the other recruit, to sit also.
　I had wandered over to examine the plaques on the far wall. One listed the crimes of the Emperor. It was the same list I had seen in the booklet A Call To Reason. The other plaque was a laser-paper version of the Formal Declaration of Rebellion. It read much like Mon Mothma's speech, and I wondered whether she had been its author.
　I was just finishing reading when I heard the hiss of a door opening. I turned in time to see an odd quartet of Rebel officers enter the room. Two were human; the other two were like nothing I had ever seen. One was a salmon-colored creature with a high, domed head featuring large eyes set to either side. I was to learn later that he was a Calamarian - a member of the race who had built this starship. The other officer was even stranger to my unaccustomed eyes. His face looked much like some aquatic creature from my home world. The image that came to mind, in fact, was of a creature with a squid for a head. Ironically, I was to learn later that these creatures, called Quarren, were sometimes referred to as Squid Heads. After I had come to know them, however, I found that appellation distasteful.
　The Quarren officer called my name in a sibilant voice. "Follow me, please," he said in strongly accented Basic. Hesitantly, I fell in behind him.
　We walked down another hallway and into an elevator of some kind. As we rode down to the lower decks, I kept sneaking glances at this strange specimen beside me.
　Finally, we emerged from the elevator into a dark, narrow hallway. The lighting was distinctly more dim than that of the upper decks, but my guide seemed right at home. I later learned that Quarrens evolved from deep in the seas of Mon Calamari, and that they preferred low light. The section of the ship I had been assigned to was a still-unmodified Quarren area.
　The Quarren stopped before a doorway and gestured in a very humanlike way.
　"This is cabin 11489, your new home, Flight Cadet Farlander," he said. I didn't respond immediately, but stood there, a little frozen by the implications of his statement, still fascinated with his alien looks, and, I'm afraid, staring foolishly at him.
　"First time off-planet!" he half asked, half stated. "Imagine what your face looks like to me." The sound he made was something like a drainpipe backing up, and I found myself hoping that it was his species' version of a chuckle. If that was the case, I wanted to avoid being so amusing as to provoke a full-on belly laugh.
　"I... I'm so..." I tried to apologize, hoping to salvage some dignity.
　"Here," he interrupted. "Take this holo disk and study it." The Quarren reached out a suckered limb and proffered a standard holo. I reached for it. The sucker released it as my hand closed on the small disk. "If you're to be a starfighter pilot, you need to learn the ropes. If you have any questions, your liaison will be Lt. Hamo Blastwell. Don't worry. He's a human."
　The sound of a gurgling drainpipe echoed down the small hallway as the Quarren turned and walked away. I stood a moment, chagrined and afraid that I had made a bad first impression; then, with a sigh of resignation, I retreated into the small room that was to be my temporary home.

　It wasn't much: a small desk and chair with an antiquated personal holo deck; a tiny holo wall with a limited selection of topics; a tiny privy (apparently set up for human needs, with a few extra nozzles and buttons I didn't dare touch); a simple cot that came out of the wall at the touch of a button. That was all.
　I had brought very little with me on this journey. Most of my possessions had been destroyed during the Imperial attack, so I carried only a few clothes and personal items. I had nothing much to do and didn't dare leave my cabin, fearing that I would get lost among the tunnels and hallways of this huge ship. I popped the holo disk into the deck and started my education as a starfighter pilot.