Mit STAR WARS - Battlefront II: Inferno Squad ist der Tie-In Roman
zum Spiel erschienen, der die Inferno Squad, allen vorran Iden
Versio, in den STAR WARS Canon einführt und deren erste Abenteuer
direkt nach der Zerstörung des Todessterns erzählt.
Zitat:
The four young officers obeyed and turned to
look at Admiral Versio expectantly. He had offered them no
refreshment, and indeed Iden knew the members of the little
gathering could count themselves for*tunate they had been
invited—or, rather, ordered—to sit.
Versio’s dark eyes roamed over each of the faces turned toward him,
settling on his daughter’s. The stern visage gentled, ever so
slightly.
“Lieutenant Versio,” he said, “I’m glad you could join us.”
Iden felt a quick flush of warmth. Gideon had been right. Her
fa*ther was glad to see her.
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
That was, apparently, enough sentimentality for the admiral. He
turned to again address the entire gathering. “I direct your
attention to the holoprojector in the center of the table.”
Iden went rigid.
She suspected what they were about to see. And she realized it had
been she who was responsible for it being here.
Iden watched along with the others, stone-still. The only part of
her that moved was the quick pulse of the vein in her slender
throat. She saw the battle unfold, again, heard the sound of orders
being is*sued. The countdown. The flash of light, the chaotic
careening of her ship.
She forced herself not to look away, but out of the corner of her
eye she registered the reactions of her fellows. Meeko’s face
displayed shock. Marana’s eyes were wide and her lips parted
slightly. Even Gideon had turned a shade paler, and she could tell
he was forcing himself not to glance over at her, to illogically
confirm with his own eyes yet again if she was all right.
Her father, mercifully, ignored her completely.
“I believe we all know what this is,” Versio said, pausing and then
deactivating the hologram. “This recording is currently being
ana*lyzed and evaluated as one of a handful recovered from ships
that were out of the direct blast area.”
Iden was grateful he didn’t single her out, but from the sidelong
glances of Meeko and Marana, she suspected they knew anyway.
“This was a dark day for our Empire. A very dark day. But, as you
can imagine, and perhaps already know, we are working on plans for
retaliation against the Rebel Alliance on every level open to us.
We have plans from the very grand to the very intimate. And the
latter is where the four of you come in. There’s a particular front
in this battle that I have suggested be addressed, and I have been
given authorization to proceed.”
Iden’s father was using that voice. That voice meant something very
big, very significant, and very personal to him was going on. That
he was including her in it made Iden feel proud—but it also put her
on high alert. She sat erect in her chair, her eyes on her father,
her breath*ing slow, and listened.
“Our glorious Death Star was destroyed by something very small
indeed—a tiny flaw, implanted by one man who single-mindedly
be*trayed the Empire over the course of years. One person, in an
X-wing fighter, hit a target only two meters wide.”
He squared his shoulders. “We were arrogant,” he said, and only
Iden—and, perhaps, Gideon—knew what that admission cost him. “We
paid a terrible price for that. And we will not make that mistake
again.
“The contribution that one small team can make when it com*prises
the best of the best is, I believe, both overlooked and
invalu*able. The distillation of individual accomplishments and
skills into a smoothly functioning unit will be something the
enemies of the Em*pire will not be prepared to guard against.
“After careful evaluation, I have decided that the four of you
repre*sent the finest the Empire can field.”
It was quite a statement, and they all knew it. Versio clasped his
hands behind his back and walked in a predatory circle around the
rapt group as he regarded each of them in turn, his eyes searching,
laserlike, and piercing, as if trying to plumb their very souls.
Gideon and Iden were used to that level of scrutiny, but
familiarity made it no less intimidating.
The admiral’s gaze settled on the tall man. “Del Meeko. You worked
your way up through the ranks, first as a stormtrooper, then a
shoretrooper, then a TIE pilot. You have received several
commendations for courage under fire. Your commanders have made
notations that you excel at whatever you turn your hand to, but you
seem to be par*ticularly gifted with repairing everything—from
armor to droids to engines.” Versio smiled thinly. “Your captain
did not part with you with good grace.”
Meeko was smart enough not to break eye contact with the admi*ral,
but the mechanically inclined TIE pilot did fidget slightly in his
seat as he inclined his head in appreciation of the words.
“Seyn Marana,” Versio continued, turning to the petite young woman.
“You possess the gift of eidetic memory, which has served you well
throughout your career. You graduated top of your class at the
Imperial Academy of Uyter a full year early—and with honors. You
speak . . . twenty-seven languages, is that correct?”
He paused to let her answer. In that sweet voice, the very young
lieutenant replied, “Twenty-nine, sir.”
Versio’s eyebrows rose. “Twenty-nine,” he said, his voice a
gravelly purr. “I stand corrected. You can read and write seven
more—it is seven, yes? I’d hate to be mistaken a second
time.”
The girl—Iden couldn’t help but think of her that way; clearly Seyn
was barely into her twenties at best—seemed to be seriously
recon*sidering her earlier quick correction of Versio, but she
replied,
“Yes, seven, sir.”
“Seven. You are also a master cryptologist. And a superior shot who
can take out a foe at over five kilometers.”
Iden regarded the “girl” with considerably more respect.
Now Versio turned to Gideon. Iden, who knew him so well, saw her
father’s expression soften with pride. “Gideon Hask. First in his
class at Coruscant Imperial University. Served with valor aboard
the Mandate, receiving a battlefield promotion and the Crimson Star
for exceptional performance against the enemy.
“And finally, Iden Versio. Graduated top of her class at Coruscant
Imperial University, with honors. One of a handful of survivors of
the Death Star, where she had held the record for most verified
kills in battle—and has the melancholy honor of never losing that
title.
“Your mission will be to recover information, artifacts, or
indi*viduals that could prove harmful to the Empire if they fall
into the wrong hands—or if, perchance, such information has already
fallen into the wrong hands. You’ll be cleaning things up, as it
were. We’ve just borne witness to the level of damage that can be
inflicted upon our Empire when such pivotal information is used
against us. We cannot, must not, shall not allow this to happen
ever again. Is this understood?”
Everyone replied quickly in the affirmative. The admiral
nodded.
“You will do as you are instructed. No questions. We need to
re*cover anything and everything, anyone and everyone, who might
pose the slightest threat to the Empire. You are all accustomed to
being part of something larger than yourselves. To being a part of
a vast machine. But this unit will be a microcosm of only four.
You’ll be performing the majority of your duties without direction
from me—in fact, there may be lengthy periods of time when you will
not be in contact with me at all. It is imperative that you learn
very quickly how to work together smoothly and efficiently. You’ll
find that a great deal of weight will be resting on your
shoulders.”
Iden’s heart began to slam slowly against her chest, but she gave
no sign of it. It wouldn’t do to register how thrilled these words
made her feel. Responsibility was exactly what she wanted. The team
as a whole, it seemed, would be given a great deal of it—but she
wanted more.
The girl smiled, and for a moment Seyn looked so young that Iden
wanted to protect her more than she wanted to fight alongside her.
She dismissed the thought. Seyn’s youth surely belied a lot of
strength. Garrick Versio would never want anyone on “his team” who
wasn’t strong. After all, they were the best of the best.
That logical conclusion meant that the quiet Del Meeko also had
something special to offer. And of course, Iden knew Gideon well
enough to know how much he brought to the table.
“Any other questions?” There were none. Versio nodded.
“Dis*missed.”
The four got to their feet, saluted, and turned to go. At the door,
though, Gideon hung back, considering, then asked his new
com*manding officer, “Sir? Does this unit have a name yet?
The faintest of smiles quirked Versio’s lips. “It does,” he
replied. “It’s a promise to the rebels.
“It’s called Inferno Squad.”