by Rob "Biggs" Baden
by Rob "Biggs" Baden
[Main Bridge, Regis, Ord Mantell System, 0823 Hours]
Gideon Daly sat in his command chair, observing the star field through the main view port in front of him. He had always longed to be a part of the stars, to walk among them with a purpose in life. As a little child he would often dream about what it would be like to be on the bridge of a starship, flying through space at a speed so incredible that it could only vaguely be grasped by most of the mortal beings who created her. Even when he was at the Academy, training to turn fantasy into reality, his thoughts would often turn back to that child and his dream of the future.
He let out a low, long sigh and closed his eyes. Yes, he had dreamed of space, but the reality of that venture turned more into a nightmare during his days in the Imperial Navy. He had seen countless acts of prejudice by his comrades and almost went down that dark road himself. It wasn't until the Alliance came along that he knew what he must do.
And now, after all these years, here he was, in command of a starship, one of the finest frigates in the fleet. And one of the constantly damaged ones, too. The Regis had gone through more battles than half of the other frigates in its class, but it had always held together, and that made Daly very proud. He had a fine crew, and some of the best pilots in the military.
"Sir."
Daly turned around to see Lieutenant McCall looking at him. "Yes?"
"There's a priority transmission for you, sir, it's from High Command, Office of the CIC."
"Patch it into my Ready Room, Lieutenant," said Daly, getting up from his chair and walking across the deck to his private office. Once inside and seated at his small desk, he hit the holo-projector. "Descramble transmission and display; authorization: Daly, Gideon, Captain, Gee Dee Alpha Five Zeta One." A few moments later the holo-image of Admiral Ackbar appeared at half-size. "Admiral, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"One moment, Captain." A second figure flickered into existence beside the Mon Calamari. Daly was familiar with the face, but not the man himself. "Captain Daly, this is Captain Ru'kaart of the Alliance Star Destroyer Happy Jack."
Daly exchanged greetings with his fellow captain, then turned his attention back to Ackbar. "I was curious before, sir, but now I'm filled with many questions."
"I rather guessed such." Ackbar turned around a bit, probably to try and look at both captains at the same time. "Gentlemen, with the recent downfall of most of the Imperial power base, the new leadership has been, to put it mildly, desperate for victories. Sate Pestage's assassination has left a power vacuum for leadership of the Empire and several potential commanders are looking for anything to cement their rightful place as leader. To that end they have been hitting New Republic shipping lanes with a vengeance. That is where you two come in."
"I see. You want the Jack and the Regis to escort a highly-valued convoy against the threat of such an attack."
"Very good, Daly." The admiral gave a small smile in the direction of Daly and returned his attention to both of them. "Yes. The Jack will rendezvous with the Regis and some escort corvettes. Your job is to protect a convoy bound for the Independence and to ensure that it gets here. There are things of great importance on those ships, and if they do not arrive at their destination on schedule, many people may die. I'm uploading the specific data to your systems, so be sure to review it when you get the first chance. Do not communicate outside of yourselves, and keep those discussions secure. That is all, gentlemen." With that the image of the Mon Calamari faded out.
Ru'kaart turned to face Daly directly. "I look forward to working with you, Captain. I've heard good things about you. I'll see you at the rendezvous point. Ru'kaart out." His image winked out as well and the Ready Room went back to its usual plain setting.
Daly pulled out a datapad and brought up the specifications of his mission. While he looked it over he sighed and shook his head. I love the stars...but the stars don't seem to love me.
[St.Clair's Office, Regis, Ord Mantell System, 1000 Hours]
Kelly had a headache and it didn't help that he knew why. Over the last few months, since the victory at Endor, the squadron had grown considerably. As a result, pilot country was nearly full and new berths were in short supply. The captain had ordered him to find some room, any kind of room, so that it would free up some quarters for potential VIPs. The only problem was that most of his pilots were already two to a room, and even those rooms were small and cramped. The recent return of Iddo Geva from his extended leave, and the expected return of Sazril Murshid from... Force only knew where and what... meant he had to find places for both of them as well. It was enough to make a man wish for combat.
I need a vacation.
His doorchime sounded. "Enter." The door slid open and in walked Neill Magill. "Okay," Kelly said without even waiting for Neill to get completely through the door. "What is it now?"
"Not a whole lot." Neill put his hands in his pockets and looked around the small office. "Just thought I'd stop by. Did you paint the walls?"
"Major, out with it. I am not in the mood for games."
"Okay, okay." Neill took his hands out of his pockets and sat down in front of Kelly's desk. "Just thought I would share some news with you about one of our trainees."
"Who shot who this time?"
"Hey, that only happened once, and it wasn't my fault that they had a messy divorce." Neill waved aside the comment and looked at Kelly. "It's about Cadet Damos. I've just checked his scores and he's completed all of the training required to graduate."
Kelly just sighed and rubbed his temples. "Great! Now I have to find him a billet among the combat pilots." He tossed his datapad aside and slumped in his chair. "Magill, I am so tired of being CO. I'm about to jump ship!"
"Great, let me help you pack. They'll make me unit commander when you're shot for treason."
"Har har." Kelly sat up and picked up another datapad off his desk. "Anything else, or are you just here to harass me? If so, make an appointment."
Magill was about to say something when the ship's PA crackled. "All hands prepare for hyperspace. Secure all stations." It cut out with a click, and Neill grinned. "Well, I was going to tell you that we're making a jump, but I think you just found that out. Also, the Skipper wants us to meet him at 1600 on the flight deck."
"The flight deck?" Outside the office's only viewport, the stars blurred and streaked into the rushing blue stream of hyperspace.
"That's what I said." Magill put his hands up in a defensive posture. "I don't know why, and he didn't tell me. All I know is that's where he wants us to be."
"That's at patrol change, which is a very hectic time. I hope he has a good reason for it."
"He's the Captain. He has to have a good reason, or else he wouldn't be the Captain."
"Ranger, get out of here before I shoot you."
[Rob Baden's A-wing, Space, Alderaan System, 1550 Hours]
"Why are we here, anyways?"
Rob frowned a bit and did a smooth roll to the right in his A-wing. "Because we were ordered here, obviously. It's not like the captain would pick up shop and decide to come visit the Graveyard on a whim, Jeff." He brought his fighter around and pointed it at the stern of the Regis, whose cluster of ion drives glowed softly at idle against the backdrop of the asteroid field.
"Yeah, but why? Don't you have any idea?"
"Do I look like Yale, or Faulkner? I'm just a pilot, but I'm still your superior, so shut up and pay attention." Rob cut the channel before Jeff could say anything else and spared an eye towards his chrono. Time to head back in. About time, too, I'm starting to get the creeps from this place. The Graveyard was a monument not only to the people of Alderaan, but also to what the Empire was capable of. It also did a very good job of stirring up memories of what happened to Lela on Golanda III, memories that he would much rather put behind him. Although it had been several months since her death, it still wounded him to think back on it.
Rob pushed the memories out of his mind and focused on the job at hand. He switched over to the primary tactical channel and punched up the security clearance recognition code for his fighter. "Regis Control, this is Nine, awaiting authorization for landing and patrol shift change, over."
There was a brief silence before the crisp and feminine voice of Kristy McCall sounded in his right ear. "Roger that, Nine. Eight and Three are topside and standing by, over."
"Acknowledged, Regis. Nine Out." He switched off the tactical channel and tuned back to the frequency he and Jeff shared. "Fourteen, standby for landing."
Moments later, at 1600 sharp, a cluster of new green blips winked to life on his sensor board. Three of them originated from just in front of the Regis' hangar, the rest from astern on a course parallel to that of the frigate. As Rob gaped in astonishment, the distinctive grey wedge of a Star Destroyer streaked in above him and came to a halt several kilometers upstar, looming over the frigate.
What the...
He didn't have time to debate the importance of their arrival. Without realizing it, he and Jeff had entered the hangar's magcon field and were now supposed to touch down at their appropriate places. While Jeff had been paying attention, Rob had been focusing too much on the arrival of the new sensor contacts and was approaching the back of the hangar at a good clip.
"Oh Sith!" was all Rob could manage as he yanked his throttle back to nothing and cut in the repulsorlifts. Inertia carried his A-wing to within a meter of the bulkhead. With a deep sigh of relief, he cruised the fighter back over to its berth and touched down lightly. As soon as his canopy seal popped, a pair of grubby hands grabbed him by his flight suit and dragged him out of the A-wing's cramped cockpit.
"What in the name of the Force do you think you're doing!?"
Rob shook his head a little and looked up to see the furry face of Frask Yak'ney nose to snout with him, lips skinned back in a snarl. "W-what do you mean, boss?"
Frask, a middle-aged Bothan, was the Deck Boss and ultimately the man who decided what lifted off and set down at what time. And at the moment, he was not happy with the way Rob decided to bring in his starfighter. "That was a laser-brained stunt even for you, Baden. You came this close to putting that lawn dart right through a bulkhead. I ought to have security throw you in the brig."
"Calm down, boss. No one was hurt." Rob carefully pried away the Bothan's fingers and dusted himself off. "I'll be sure not to do it again, you have my word on that." He turned around and headed off to the lift, Frask's bellowed obscenities following him before they were swallowed up by the other noises of the busy hangar. Jeff was waiting for him at the lift; he stepped inside and pushed the button with a sigh. "What a nice way to spend a patrol."
[Main Conference Room, Happy Jack, Alderaan System, 1630 Hours]
Gideon Daly sat down in the chair at the opposite side of the glossy round table from Ru'kaart. The somber grey and black Imperial decor was familiar but not exactly welcoming. To the right and left of him sat St.Clair and Magill, and next to Ru'kaart were Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Dobson and Major Geoff Ryan, the CO and XO of Blue Squadron. There were also four others at the table: a middle-aged Twi'lek woman who looked like she had seen better days, a human woman with steel-grey hair and eyes, a Devaronian who'd lost most of one horn and picked up a scar on his opposite cheek, and another, younger human female whose safety-orange flightsuit was almost the same shade as her coppery hair.
"Captain," said Ru'kaart, "I assume you already know Dobson and Ryan. I'd like to introduce you to Captain Vana Aven of the Quick Strike." The Twi'lek smiled, showing her filed teeth. "Captain Alixaundra Valin of the Ravage." The gray-haired woman nodded politely in Daly's direction. "Adim Clansen, the head of the transport company making the run." The Devaronian inclined his head and gave a little finger-wave. "And finally, Second Lieutenant Bree Kosner, the commander of the four X-wings assigned to the Quick Strike and the Ravage." The redheaded woman smiled warmly.
"Now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business. High Command has ordered our four ships and our respective fighters to escort this convoy on its way to meet the Independence. It will take about two days to do the first leg, then we'll stop over at a depot for refueling and resupply before we head out for the last day of travel." Ru'kaart looked across the table at Daly and gave a respectful nod. "Captain Daly, mine may be the bigger ship, but you're the more experienced captain. I've been instructed to turn control of this mission over to you. It's your ball now."
Daly sighed a little and straightened his uniform tunic. He knew he would be put in command, even though he honestly didn't want it, but he was not one to back down when people needed his help. "Well, here's the first thing we're going to do. Mr. Clansen, how many ships are there in your convoy, and what types?"
Clansen sat forward a little and laid his hands on the table. "There are a total of ten ships; two each of bulk freighters, cargo ferries, container transports, medium transports, and modular conveyers."
"All right... the Regis will take up position in front of the convoy, with the Quick Strike and the Ravage on the port and starboard flanks. The Jack will bring up the rear. Whenever we're in normal space, I want half of our pilots out flying escort and the other half on the deck ready to launch. Note that that does not mean they have to remain in their fighters until launch clearance. I don't want tired and sleepless pilots." He looked at Dobson, Kosner, and St.Clair. "Coordinate unit defenses between the three of you and get back to me, Ru'kaart, and the others. We've already lost too many convoys to the Imperial factions struggling for power, and I don't want us to lose this one."
"Understood, sir," said St.Clair.
"I think that's all for right now. Dismissed."
[The Missing Bar,Happy Jack, Alderaan System, 1700 Hours]
Andrew relaxed in his usual seat, a glass of ale sitting in front of him at the table he was sharing with St.Clair and Kosner. "We're short on active-duty pilots right now, so I can only give you four pilots the first watch and four the second. That's all I have."
St.Clair nodded. "Well, Red has plenty at the moment, so we can contribute... mm, eight on both watches. And if things get really bad, we can call on some of the cadets."
Kosner sipped at her drink and put it down on the table. "Plus two from Dark Flight each watch. That would be a total of fourteen... pretty good odds."
"Agreed," said Andrew, sitting forward in his seat. "That's a combined force equal to a full squadron on each watch. But we can't let our guard down and become complacent. Our enemy still has many more than that."
"Well, at least we figured out the schedule for our fighters." Kosner took a small sip from her drink and set it back down again. "Now we just have to work out how to deploy them."
"Well," said St.Clair, "the command ships don't need too much coverage as they're not likely to be the targets." Using empty glasses and bar snacks, he began to lay out the convoy in the center of their table. "Regis up front, Jack in the rear, corvettes on the sides... and fourteen fighters to play with." He surveyed his completed diagram. "Let's say... one wingpair for the Regis, another covers the Happy Jack and a third watches out for the corvettes. That leaves us with eight."
"Hmmm, good idea," Andrew agreed. He examined the formation, then waved his hand over it. "What about above and below, though? We need fighters to cover those angles." This observation was met by nods from his fellow commanders. "Four above, four below?"
"Sounds good to me. I'll make sure I'll tell my pilots about it." Kosner tossed back the rest of her drink and rose from her seat. "If there's nothing else I think we should get back to Captain Daly and let him know we're done with."
"We're done here. Let's get going." St.Clair got up from his chair as well. Andrew remained seated, however, looking at them with a faint smile.
"I'm not going anywhere. This is my ship. I'll see you two out in the void."
St.Clair chuckled. "Point. See you later, Dobson." He turned and walked away.
As Andrew sipped some more of his ale. A few minutes later the shadow of a large man fell over him; he spoke without looking up. "Sit down, Paul, and have a drink with me."
Paul Sweet, a long-term pilot and friend of Andrew, sat down across from him. "So, what's going on? Oh, wait, let me guess, it's on a 'need-to-know' basis, isn't it?"
"Knock it off, Paul. You know I can't give out information that you're not cleared for. Sorry, but that's the way it has to be."
"Yeah, yeah, so you've told me countless times." Paul leaned back, causing his head and shoulders to disappear into the dimly-lit corner. Andrew sighed; Paul loved to play the shady and mysterious character, even though he was on the side of the New Republic.
"I hate it when you do that." He finished his ale and turned toward the bar, waving. "Hey, Dargon, I need another ale over here!"
The middle-aged man nodded at Andrew as he was washing a mug. "In a second, Colonel."
Andrew looked back to Paul, who was still hiding in the shadows. "Stop that. You look like someone in a bad holodrama." He sighed and leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table with the empty glass between them. "I'm telling you, Paul, sometimes I feel like leading this unit has made me an old man."
"Well, you are. Every CO is, in effect, an old person because they have to nurture and lead the unit they're in command of. You're a father-figure, in a way."
"Great. I have a philosopher for a pilot."
[Main Hangar Bay, Happy Jack, Alderaan System, 1730 Hours]
Kelly was still loitering in the Star Destroyer's cavernous main hangar -- by far the largest space he'd ever been in, and probably the last he'd ever expected to -- when he heard his name being called. Kosner came running up, out of breath and with hair drifting over her face. She brushed it out of the way as she asked, "Colonel, are you heading back to the Regis?"
He nodded. "That's right... my ride's waiting for me." He gestured at one of the shuttles sitting on the deck, wings folded up in landing position. Tessa Valis, the Regis's SAR pilot, stood by the ramp, looking bored and considerably less impressed by the view. "Got some things to take care of before we set out tomorrow. Why, is something wrong?"
"No, nothing wrong at all." She lowered her head with a shy smile and looked back at him. "I just thought if I could ask to come along. I, uh, sort of know someone aboard the Regis and wouldn't mind seeing him again."
"Oh?" This surprised Kelly. He knew that a couple of his pilots had been romantically involved with people in the past but he thought he knew all the stories. "May I ask who?"
"Flight Officer Baden. I believe he joined a few months ago." She gave him that shy smile again. "We went through training together."
Kelly blinked. Baden? Biggs and her!? He coughed politely into his hand to cover his surprise. "I didn't realize Lieutenant Baden had any classmates during his training. The way he tells it, he was in a class by himself."
"Oh, he made Lieutenant? Good for him!" Kosner gushed, then seemed to take a step back. "As to your question, no sir, there were four of us in our group; he and I were the only ones who didn't wash out." She fidgeted nervously in the presence of a superior officer, and Kelly had to hide a smile. Was it really only a year ago that he'd been in the same position? Some days he still expected to turn around and find Spectre standing there with artificial hand out, wanting his Red Leader pips back. "I would really like to talk to him, sir," Kosner finished. "It's been months since I've seen him and I hoped we could get together to chat."
Biggs isn't exactly the chatty type, Kelly almost said. But then, if Kosner'd been through training with him, she'd know that already. It often seemed to Kelly that half of his pilots were eager kids and the other half wounded loners; from what he'd read in his dossier and his few stiff and formal conversations with the man, Baden definitely fit into the latter category. What can it hurt? Maybe a friendly face can get him to open up some. He nodded, his decision made.
"Sure, you can come along. But remember, we've all got duty in the morning, so don't keep him up drinking all night."
Chapter 2: Reunion
[The Citizen's Mug, Regis, Alderaan system, 1800 Hours]
Rob was relaxing at his usual table, a mug of Corellian Ale in his hands, but unlike most nights where he was surrounded by Jeni, Jeff, and Steve, he was alone, a somber expression on his face. At various points throughout the last few months Rob did this; not because he was unwelcome by his compatriots, but because he preferred it to be.
During this time of the night it was kind of quiet in the Mug. Most of the pilots were either asleep or working or something else. The only other people present were Trix and the Regis's chief of security, Alecia Vinie, who were having a quiet conversation at the bar. Neither seemed to be paying any attention to him.
Rob knew that Trixel was concerned about him and had suggested to him once or twice to go talk to Sazril Murshid about his experiences in an effort to get him to face his demons. While Rob appreciated her attempts to try and console him, he much preferred it that she would leave him alone. Even now he could see her looking his way out of the corner of her eye, checking up on him to make sure he wasn't being too self-destructive.
"I should have figured you would be in the bar."
Rob jumped a little in his seat as he turned around to see the old familiar face of Bree Kosner. "Kosner! What in blazes are you doing here?" He put his mug down and stood up, a slight smile on his face. "I haven't seen you since just before graduation, why are you here? Oh, wait, let me guess, you can't tell me yet because it's on a 'need-to-know' basis."
She gave him a tight smile and nodded. "Sorry, you know how it is." She walked around to the other side of the table and sat down. "I heard you got promoted, congratulations! You're a good pilot; why, you might even make major one day."
Rob stifled a laugh that was swelling up inside of him. "Not likely. I don't think I could ever really be anything higher beyond the point of flight leader. It takes a certain type to lead men and women into battle; I look at St.Clair and I see a bundle of nerves and responsibilities that threaten to spiral him towards a collapse. I don't want to have that become my life."
Kosner waved to Trixel and turned back to talk to Rob. "Well, it is really good to see you again, Rob. So, what's been going on with you? Have you finally opened up to someone, finally decided to let someone past those barriers you have up?"
Rob's smile faded and he replaced it with a grim expression on his face. "Why did you have to say something like that," he snapped. He couldn't help it; he was feeling like he was being put on guard. "You know that I don't talk about myself."
"Yes," she snapped right back, leaning forward. "I know that you don't talk about yourself, pretty much none at all, but I don't know the reasons as to why. You've never opened up to me, and aside from me knowing your name, your homeworld, and that fact that you have a brother, there is nothing about you that I know!" She paused a little as Trixel came and asked her for her order. When the bartender left again Kosner frowned and looked Rob right in the eyes. "Why is it so hard for you to open up to someone? You can't keep things bottled up inside of you forever, it will eat away at your soul until nothing mortal is left."
The anger inside him was starting to get the better of Rob. He shot to his feet and rested his hand on the table, leaning in. "What gives you the right to talk to me like that?" He took his cup and downed the rest of his ale and slammed it back on the table. "Of all people, you do not have the right to talk to me in that fashion. You know nothing about who I am or why I hurt and until you do you'll never have the right to talk to me like that." He turned around and walked out of the door, pounding the corridor bulkheads as he went.
"Hey, wait up!" came a small, soft voice from behind him.
Rob sighed and stopped where he was. He could tell her to go away, but she had never listened to such advice in the small amount of time she'd been here and she wasn't likely to start now. A few moments later a gloved hand rested on his shoulder and he turned around to face her. "If I report you for harassing me will you go away?"
Alecia Vinie shook her head, her expression as firm as her grip. "I happen to know the head of security pretty well and she'll never believe you." The Twi'lek woman started walking, practically dragging Rob along with her. "What was that all about?"
"Just someone I went through training with. She made me mad and I just lost it a little bit."
"Want me to rough her up some? Make her regret disturbing you? I could claim that we found a device on her person that was recording your image for, uh, personal use later and bring her up on charges of slander and personal grief." She smiled a very dark smile, her sharp teeth showing off as one of her brain tips twirled around her neck. "I could even toss her in the brig if you like, it's nice and cozy in there...for an Ewok."
Rob chuckled and smiled back. "Lieutenant, has anyone ever told you that you have a very dark sense of humor?"
"Yes," she said with an easy nod. "They never live very long after doing so, however." Her nasty for-show smile went away, replaced by a look of concern. "What's going on, Biggs?"
"You don't want to know, and I really don't want to talk about it." He shrugged off her hand and continued walking away. "Please, just leave me alone," he said quietly as he rounded the corner.
He was both relieved and disappointed when he didn't hear her footsteps behind her as he continued to walk towards his cabin. When he walked in the lights automatically came on. No one was home, of course, because Steve was out on patrol with Jeni. Shucking off his flight suit he crawled into his bed and turned off the lights, quickly slipping into a nightmarish sleep, the same kind that he had been experiencing since Lela's death.
[The Citizen's Mug, Regis, Alderaan system, 0015 Hours]
Steve, Jeni following closely behind him, walked into the Mug and looked around for Rob. Usually he was here by himself or with Jeff after their patrol and most times waited around for Steve and Jeni to come back from their patrol as well. However, neither Rob nor Jeff was here tonight. In fact, the Mug was pretty much empty except for Trixel who was manning the bar and a woman who he had never seen before, who just happened to be sitting at their usual table.
Steve walked over to the bar and tapped it lightly. "Hey, Trix. Where's our resident loner?"
She gave a small shrug and leaned forward. "He got in a bit of an argument with that woman over there. I didn't hear much as I try not to pry too much into his personal life -- you know how he is -- but he got up and left, the Chief going after him to make sure he was okay. She didn't come back and I didn't get any news that he was in any trouble, so I assume everything is okay."
Steve looked over at the young redheaded woman who was facing away from him. He turned back to Trixel and said, "And just who is she?"
"I'm not sure but I get the impression that they knew one another in the past. I do not, however, know from when or where. Hey, are you going to order something or not?"
Steve smiled and shook his head. "Not at the moment. I believe I am going to try and figure out something first. Come on, Angel." He walked over to the table that the woman was at and sat down across from her, Jeni sitting to his right. The woman didn't seem to notice their presence and Steve was about to say something when she spoke.
"Go away," she said simply. It was not phrased as an order, but it wasn't a request, either; it was more like a statement of fact. However, Steve was determined to find out as much as he could about her.
He cleared his throat and settled into his chair. "I'm Steve Michadick, callsign Schmitty, and this is Jeni Courtner, callsign Angel. We're friends of Rob, I hear you know him?"
That seemed to gain her attention and her head looked at him. "You're friends with Rob? You mean he actually has friends?! You care about him, really care?" She almost seemed to beam with the words she was speaking, as if she couldn't believe them herself. It sort of disturbed Steve and he caught a look of likewise on Jeni's face out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes, of course we care about him," he said, not withholding his surprise at her statement. "He's saved our lives out there in battle and he's confided in us, as we have saved his and confided in him. Why shouldn't he have friends?"
"It's just that he was always so secretive about his life when we went through training together. He never talked about himself, never let anyone in past the barriers he held up." He just sighed and sipped her drink, one that Steve didn't notice she had until that point. "I'm just glad that he was able to find someone, anyone, to open up to. I mean, the only thing I really know is that he's Corellian and he has a brother."
"Yeah, Jeff Gerlach; good kid and an excellent pilot."
She blinked and stared at him for a moment. "You've actually met his brother?"
Steve squirmed in his chair and looked back at her. "Yes, he's a pilot here, and Rob's own wingmate. I'll introduce you to him sometime, but in order for me to do that I need to know your name."
"Oh, how rude of me, I apologize." She stood up and extended her hand towards him. "Second Lieutenant Bree Kosner of Dark Flight, the four X-wings assigned to escort the two Corvettes that arrived with the convoy. I graduated with Rob and we both went our separate ways. This is the first time I have seen him since then." She shook each of their hands slowly and then sat back down. "So, he's opened up to you two?"
"Well," said Jeni, speaking for the first time, "more so to Steve than me. I know a little about his wife-to-be and the death of his father, but that's about it."
"'Wife-to-be'? 'Death of his father'?" Bree shook her head slowly and looked down at the table. "No wonder he didn't want to spend time with me; he's engaged to someone."
Steve and Jeni looked at each other and Steve gave a slow sigh. "No, that's not exactly the case." He rubbed his face and shook his head slowly. "Sit back, Lieutenant; You're going to get a history lesson."
[Main Bridge, Regis, Alderaan System, 1000 Hours]
Daly paced the bridge slowly, noting Major Faulkner standing near the rear, as he often liked to do at the start of major operations. The NRI man knew about things even before Daly did and as such was a valued source of information, even by omission. So far the Major had not given him any hints that contradicted what Ackbar and Ru'kaart had told him. Daly took that as a good sign.
"Captain, all ships and commands report that we're ready for the jump to hyperspace," McCall reported from her station.
"Very well, Lieutenant," he replied, heading to his chair and settling in. "Link me into all channels and frequencies." It took a matter of moments before he got a nod from McCall and switched on the com-link button on his armchair. "This is Captain Daly to all commands. We'll be entering hyperspace in exactly one minute. Be sure that all security measures have been taken and that there will be no communication between ships unless in the case of an emergency. That is all, Daly out."
The ship, his ship, seemed to gather itself eagerly for his next command. Daly took a deep breath. This was what it was really all about. Sometimes he missed being a junior officer, not having to deal with unruly pilots or fuel consumption reports or High Command bureaucracy. But there were compensations... like being here on the bridge, to see the endless starry night with his own eyes as the great mass of metal and beings surged forward through it. It brought joy to him when he desperately needed it. He was lucky to have that chance. Everyone should be allowed to pursue their joy.
With a little smile, he put aside such self-indulgent thoughts and settled into his chair, leaning back a little. He had other things to think about at the moment, the safety of the convoy chief among them. It was up to him to make sure that it arrived at Sluis Van in four days time and he was determined to guarantee their safety.
The counter reached zero and, in quick succession, each of the ships of the convoy leapt into hyperspace.
[Dobson's Office, Happy Jack, Hyperspace, 1400 Hours]
Andrew went over the various datapads that were on his desk, sighing in frustration. He had joined the Alliance to fight the Empire and to pilot a starfighter, not to push data across a desk. It seemed that ever since he was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel he had spent more time outside of the cockpit and in his office than he liked, but there was no way to change that. And the pile just kept getting larger.
It didn't help matters much that he was stationed aboard an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. While Fleet Command had removed all Imperial insignia (and the pilots had long ago arranged to add their own distinctive emblem to the ship's hull), there was still a sort of grim, dark feel to it that he couldn't place his finger on. He wasn't sure why, but it just rubbed him the wrong way and he wished that they were still back on the Loyal instead of here on the Jack, even if many of the other pilots considered this vessel home.
There was a knock on his door and he looked up to see the short Sullust pilot that he had served with a long time. "Luciano," he said with a grin. "Come in, what brings you by my office today?"
Over the time that they have spent together within Blue, Andrew had learned to interpret Luciano's facial features during his various moods and he didn't like the look of this one. "Sir," Luky began, "I've been with the unit for a long time, and I've always been proud to be a pilot in this squadron... but I feel that the time has come for me to retire."
Andrew tried to maintain his surprise as he settled back in his chair. "I see. Well, Lopez, this is certainly unexpected. Of all the people I thought would leave the unit, your name did not rise to the top of the list. Do you have any particular reason as to why you feel you must do so?"
"Well, I just feel as though I'm do not belong here anymore, Sir. I've enjoyed my time here, certainly, but there's this feeling that I have that is telling me that I need to move on, find another task in life." He closed his mouse-like eyes and just gave a hefty sigh. "Sir, I know this is inconvenient timing, and I'm not expecting to leave until after the current mission is finished with, but I felt that I needed to let you know what was occurring before I sent in the official notification."
"Well," said Andrew, his mind still wondering about the whole thing, "I certainly am glad that you decided to talk to me first about it, I greatly appreciate that." He gave a small sigh and sat forward. "I won't pretend to say that this makes me feel happy; you're a fine pilot, Mr. Lopez, and I'm going to miss serving with you. Just make sure you're not shot up before our mission is finished," he said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.
[The Mug, Regis, Hyperspace, 0200 Hours]
Rob finished sipping his drink and left it on the table as he got up. The convoy had been at travel in hyperspace for over fifteen hours and just recently jumped back to sublight speed for a course correction. Steve and Jeni, as well as half of the other Reds, had been out there protecting the convoy as it corrected its course for the next jump into hyperspace, which just occurred about five minutes ago.
Rob wished he had been out there, out in the darkness and beauty of space. So few things brought him real joy these days and he tried to maximize those that did. He had never been the kind to lie down on a hilltop and stare up at the stars -- which were pretty hard to do given that the home he and his father had lived in was in the center of Coronet City -- so he never really thought much about space until he actually was in it. Since then he couldn't get enough of the sight of space and fell in love with the feeling of being in it. It was his primary reason for being a fighter and transport repairer, as he had to often take the craft out into the space surrounding Nar Shadda to make sure all was in order. It was one of the three things that made him feel like he should be glad to be alive.
Another of those things was his experience dodging bounty hunters and Imperial goons on Nar Shadda as well as the brief experience he had in as a gro-po. He knew that if he didn't have the aptitude or will to be a pilot he would have stayed in the ground unit that he had been assigned to and would probably be attacking some Imperial garrison at this time. It's not that he enjoyed killing so much, but he knew what the Empire was like and he wanted to make sure that no one had to discover that realization the hard way.
The third thing that made him feel alive was his friends, Steve, Jeni, and Jeff. The three of them were the closest he had to family-especially Jeff given he actually was his brother-and they really cared about him. He had opened up to them and they had not abandoned him when he needed them. Whenever he had a problem he knew he could turn to them; the problem was that more often than not he still was content with bottling things up instead of talking about them.
Rob pushed those thoughts out of his head as he looked out of The Mug's view port. Steve and Jeni were still considered "on duty" despite not having to actually fly at the moment. They were practicing in the simulators, a series of programs that Major Magill had devised for the duration of their posting to the convoy as a way to keep them on their toes. He would stop in on them, but he knew as soon as he stepped into the sim-room Magill would kidnap him into participating and he did not want to do that.
He gave a small nod to Trixel as he went out the doors and headed down the corridor. He still couldn't get over the fact that Bree Kosner was part of the escort force; he hadn't seen her in months and suddenly she props right back into his life. It's not that she didn't like the woman, but she tried too hard and he just wanted simple friendship.
Rob stopped at the door of his cabin and entered his personal security code. A moment later the door slid open and he walked in, yawning a bit as it closed behind him. He took off his jacket and began to take off his uniform when he thought he heard a sound. When he stopped to listen closely he didn't hear anything and went back to getting ready for bed. It didn't take long for him to get out of his flight suit and he immediately climbed into his bunk. He laid on the very edge of his bunk and began to drift off to sleep when a slight shudder overtook him. Before he could pull the covers over him he felt a pair of arms wrap around his body and a familiar voice whisper in his ear, "don't be cold."
Acting purely on instinct Rob jumped out of the bunk and landed on the other end of the cabin in a fighting stance. "Who are you?" he demanded angrily.
The silhouette of a woman with long hair sat up in the bunk, the sheets pressed against her. Rob blinked as his eyes began to adjust, letting him recognize the intruder. "Bree? What are you doing here? How the Sith did you get into my personal quarters!?" He tried to control his anger but he was very close to losing it. No one had dared try to intrude on his quarters when he didn't invite them to, and when Steve was here there was hardly anyone who visited as well. And now, a woman who didn't appear to be wearing any clothes was in his quarters and in his bunk!
"Did you know that it took only one guess as to the pass code," she said, still holding the sheets against her. "You really ought to change your code, Rob; I mean, using your training slot number, it was an easy guess." He wasn't completely sure but Rob thought he saw her grin at him. "And as to why I am here, I wanted to be with you, Rob." She finally lay back down on the bunk, turning onto her side so that she was facing him. "Steve told me about your past, well, as much as you told him, and I understand as to why you never opened up before." She lowered her voice to a whisper and spoke so softly that Rob had to strain to hear her. "I want you to know that I am not trying to replace your Lela, and that I would never try to cause trouble for you. I just thought that perhaps I could show you the love of another."
Rob blinked a little and relaxed a bit from the fighting stance he had been in. "Bree," he said, his voice full of a little worry, "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think this is the time." He sighed a little and got up from where he was crouching on the floor. "Shouldn't you be on the Quick Strike? How did you get aboard the Regis anyways?"
"I came aboard just before the convoy jumped to hyperspace. The Deck Boss wasn't very happy about it, but he couldn't very well argue given that we jumped just as I entered the magcon field. So, I'm here until we jump back to sublight." She smiled again; at least Rob thought it was a smile. It was hard to see in the blackness of his quarters. She looked at him again and whispered once more, "Rob, I'm not trying to intrude, but, please, just for tonight, will you let me help you?"
Rob sighed and sat back on the floor again and starting to think. He knew that he was attracted to her and that she really did have feelings for him, but he didn't want to move too fast for the wrong reasons. He preferred to be her friend before he was her lover. He sighed again and looked up at her. He knew what he was going to do, and he just hoped that he wasn't going to regret it.
[Corridor "B", Regis, Hyperspace, 0400 Hours]
Steve walked down the corridor towards his quarters, whistling a small tune from his childhood. He had a good practice session in the simulators and came out kicking some major nerf-hide. It wasn't every day that he got those kind of scores.
He stopped in front of his quarters and noticed that there was a datapad against the door. He bent down and picked it up and saw that it had a prompt blinking on it, asking for his security code. With a shrug, he keyed it in and the prompt was replaced by a fuzzy closeup of Rob in their darkened quarters, his face lit only by the glow of the pad's screen.
"Hello, Steve. Sorry to leave this message for you, but I would appreciate it if you found some other place to spend the night. I will explain things tomorrow but I really can't go into it right now. Sleep well, Baden out." The datapad went blank but not before Steve saw the outline of a woman walk past Rob. Steve played the message again just to be sure, but there was no mistaking it; there was a woman in Rob and Steve's quarters.
Steve took the datapad and tucked it under his arm as he began to walk down the corridor towards the guest quarters. He chuckled to himself as he thought of Rob and a woman spending the night together. He knew he shouldn't; after all, Rob was a grown man and could make decisions for himself. And this was certainly one of those decisions.
He rounded the corner and stepped into the guest quarters' corridor, a very small, but spacious, arrangement of rooms and cabins. He entered his security clearance and stepped into one of the small cabins, all the while grinning to himself. Tomorrow I'll find out what happened. Rob won't be able to hold off on explaining this.
[The Mug, Regis, Hyperspace, 0930 Hours]
Rob was nursing his first mug of Corellian Ale of the day. He had never been much of a drinker before joining the New Republic, enjoying an occasional Alderaan ale with Lela when they could afford it. But he had changed over the past few months, becoming a bitter and even darker person than before. And that person tended to drink quite a bit during his off hours, sometimes alone, sometimes with his few friends.
On this particular occasion, he was getting annoyed at his company. "Look, I told you before, nothing happened."
Steve was sitting across from him with a grin on his face, his own mug about half-empty. "I know what I saw, Rob. She was in your room, and I confirmed it with the captain of the Quick Strike that she was aboard the Regis at that time. Come off it, Rob, what happened?"
Rob sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes in frustration. "We didn't do anything. Yes, she was in the room, but nothing happened. She stayed the night, yes, but we did not do anything."
"Oh yeah," said Steve, sitting forward a bit. "Then what exactly happened? You're going to have to tell me or else I won't shut up about it. Heck, I'll even go ask her the next time I see her."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Just try me."
Rob dropped his head into his arms, muffling his next statement. "One of these days, Steve, I'm going to hurt you, you better believe it." He looked up again. "Okay, you're right, she was in my room. But like I said, nothing happened. She spent the night in my bed, and I was in it too, but nothing happened. I just sort of... held her as we slept."
"That's it?" Steve looked at him, plainly skeptical. "You just held her, and that's all?"
"Yes, Mr. Michadick, isn't that enough, or were you expecting some sort of bedroom romp to alleviate your boredom?" He emptied the rest of his mug in one gulp. "And that is all you're going to get out of me, Steve, because that's all that happened. Now, is there anything else you 'need' to know about my life, or can I get back to enjoying my down time?"
"Okay, okay, just making sure that you're not getting yourself into trouble, my friend." He finished the rest of his drink and set it down on the table as he stood up. "I'll catch you later, I'm off to do some more 'sim' practice with our friendly XO. Don't drink too much; you've got patrol later." He left with a grin on his face.
Rob shook his head and closed his eyes once again. No, nothing had happened last night, but he finally got one of the best nights of sleep since Lela's death. Bree was the kind of woman that a person could drown himself in and never want to swim out of. She had beauty, intelligence, and a vibrant personality, and it took all of his will to refuse her offer.
He wasn't ready for another relationship; the wounds from his last were too fresh. He did enjoy the night he spent with Bree, but at the moment he considered that just one friend trying to help another friend get past his grief.
He opened his eyes to find another face right in front of his. His shock was so great he literally fell out of his chair. "Boo," said Trixel simply with a grin.
"What in the Sith are you doing?" He crawled onto his knees and got up off the floor, picking the chair up with him. He was lucky that there was no one else in the bar at that moment or else he was sure that someone would have made sure the rest of the unit knew about it. As it was he was sure they would find out some way; things of that sort hardly ever just went away.
"Well," she said, the grin still there, "I saw the look of pure happiness on your face and I just had to find out what it was that could make Mr. 'I-Want-To-Be-Left-Alone' smile like that." She sat down across from him and studied Steve's mug before looking back at him again. "So, what is it that's got you going? Or do I even have to guess?"
Rob just rubbed his face and closed his eyes. Why can't I ever get any peace around here?
[Main Bridge, Happy Jack, Hyperspace, 1000 Hours]
Dave Ru'kaart paced the command walkway to and from the curved bank of viewports at the end of it. The swirling glow of hyperspace washed over the bridge, tinting everything with its otherworldly radiance. Ru'kaart tried to find beauty in the display, but his own anxiety kept getting in the way. This was the part he hated the most about being in command: the waiting. Waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for the surprise attack that his sources hadn't told him about, waiting for pure bad luck.
Turning to begin another leg, he nearly walked straight into Colonel Dobson and had to steady himself before he lost his balance. "Colonel, what can I do for you?"
For answer, the Corellian pilot handed over a datapad. "Yesterday, Luky -- Mr. Lopez -- came to my office and told me he'll be retiring at the end of our current mission." Dobson didn't look any happier about it than he had the other day. "To be perfectly honest, I wish he wasn't. He's a good pilot and a very good man, or Sullustan, or whatever. I'll be sorry to see him go."
Ru'kaart took the pad and looked it over. "This is not the kind of news I wanted to hear, Colonel. Did he give any particular reason as to why he was retiring?"
"Just that he felt that his time with Starfighter Command was over and that there were other options he had to explore."
"Well," said Ru'kaart, handing back the pad, "I suppose I wish him luck, then." He turned back towards the windows and stared out at the infinite tunnel of hyperspace. "Tell me, Mr. Dobson; what do you find most intriguing about space?"
There was a motion of air beside him and an indrawn breath as Dobson stepped up. "Well, for me space was always the ultimate artwork; the beauty of it transfixed me. I wanted to be around it all the time. As a pilot I got to have that luxury, but as I started moving up through the ranks I spend less time in space and more time at a desk." He took another step forward and turned his head to look at Ru'kaart. "It really is a beautiful life, despite all the death around us, sir."
"That it is, Colonel." Ru'kaart turned to face him as well. "Now, if there isn't anything else you need, I suggest you return to your unit. We'll be dropping back to normal space in a few minutes and we're going to need our fighters out there for cover."
"Yes, sir."
[Main Bridge, Regis, Hyperspace, 1010 Hours]
Daly checked the ship's chrono for about the tenth time in the past ten minutes. He knew that they would arrive at their precisely calculated time and no sooner, but he was still worried about what they would find at their waypoint. It had been two days since they set out and so far things had been. But until now, the convoy had spent most of its time in hyperspace, with only short breakouts to change course. Their stay in the Tynna system would be the longest, and if there was trouble, it would probably be here.
"Sir," said the helmsman, "ten seconds."
Daly nodded. "Cut in our engines and prepare for sublight."
"Aye-aye, sir," Ensign Jons acknowledged, hitting a series of buttons on his board. The bright tunnel outside began to break apart into starlines which shrunk to countless pinpoints of light in the black void. The blue orb of Tynna came up fast, swelling in an instant from a ball to a full-sized planet. About twenty klicks ahead and to starboard was a large station of unique design. The words "WELCOME TO TYNNA SYSTEM" were spelled out in colorful light on the top four levels, one per floor. Long docking arms extended from the center, with some berths large enough to accomodate a luxury liner or a cruiser. "Secured from hyperspace. Now entering orbit around Tynna, Captain."
"Thank you, Ensign." He considered the brightly-lit station for a moment. "Temple to the gods of commerce," he murmured.
"Sir?" Jons asked.
"Nothing, Ensign, never mind. Lt. McCall, please check with the other ships of the convoy and confirm they've arrived safely. Then I'd like to speak to Ru'kaart aboard the Happy Jack."
"One moment, sir..." McCall seemed to be listening intently to her headset. Finally she turned and said, "Captain, it seems the Happy Jack is having some problems."
[Main Bridge, Happy Jack, 1013 Hours]
Klaxons hooted as the officers and crew of the mighty Star Destroyer struggled to stabilize her. The Happy Jack had come out of hyperspace much closer to the planet Tynna than expected, dangerously close. Ru'kaart, clinging to a stanchion as the deck seemed to tilt and shudder under him, resolved to have words with the astrogator as soon as they were out of this. I hate being right.
"Get our shields up!" he snapped. Wisps of Tynna's upper atmosphere were already shrieking past the ship's sharp prow. If they dipped much deeper, they could be in serious trouble; unlike its smaller predecessor, the Imperial-class was not designed to enter atmosphere. "Helm, status!"
"Hard over, sir! All thrusters firing at full, Engine #1 at redline!" The port-most of the Star Destroyer's massive ion drives would be glowing nearly twice as bright as the other two, fighting the great ship's inertia to turn her away from destruction.
"Reactor temperature rising fast, Captain. Approaching critical!"
"Stay on it, Mister," Ru'kaart shouted. "We need all the power you've got."
After several minutes, the vibration lessened as the Happy Jack pulled free of the goo and began to gain altitude. The port-side sublight engine, close to failure, was throttled back as the other two took up the slack of pushing the Star Destroyer away from the planet and back towards the rest of the convoy. The alarms quieted and damage reports started coming in.
Ru'kaart mopped at his brow. His Fleet uniform tunic had acquired new stains under the arms as well. "Advise Captain Daly that we have minor hull breaches and stress fractures all over the ship, and at least one of our sublight engines needs an overhaul. Request permission to put into dock at the station for emergency field repairs."
[Director's Office, Imperial Intelligence, Coruscant System, 1600 Hours]
"What is it?" asked the ruler of the Empire in all but name, her voice a passionless monotone.
"Madame Director," said the holo-image, "our agent in the Tynna System has come across some information that you may want to know. It appears that a Rebel convoy has stopped there for repairs and resupply. The captured ISD Octavian and the Rebel frigate Regis are escorting the convoy."
The tiniest and coldest of smiles came to the Director's lips. "Excellent. Divert all available forces in the area to that system. Instruct the agent to delay the Octavian until they arrive."
[Shaw's Quarters, Happy Jack, Tynna System, 2000 Hours]
Brian Shaw woke to the insistent chime of the intercom. He groaned and reached over to flop a hand down on the button. "Yes?"
"Captain Shaw, we're receiving a personal message piggy-backed through channels. It's from a Leria Kerlsil, somewhere in the Corellian Sector."
Brian rubbed at his eyes and sat up in bed. "Go ahead and patch it in." He waited for a moment and then the two-dimensional image of a familiar face popped up on the screen. "Well, this is a surprise."
[Dobson's Office, Happy Jack, Tynna System, 2200 Hours]
The door hissed open and Andrew looked up to see Brian Shaw, the unit's Training Officer, standing in it. "Brian? I thought you'd be in bed, like I should be. What can I do for you?" He gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.
"Well, I wanted to come and tell you that I'll be leaving the unit after this assignment."
Andrew stared. "You too? Who's next, Geoff?" He took a deep breath and focused his attention back on Brian. "Okay, can I ask the reason?"
"Well, I've been offered a job. I'm going to be the personal pilot for the president of a huge corporation. The president is an old friend of mine and he offered me the position as soon as he found out where I was."
Andrew put down the datapad he had in his hand and just sat silent for a moment. "It never rains but it pours. Well, Brian, I can't pretend that I like this; you're a good pilot and the best training officer I've ever had. Just know that if you ever want to come back to the unit you'll always be welcome." He stood up and offered his hand. "I'll make sure that the captain knows about it."
"Thank you, sir. It has been a pleasure serving with you and I really appreciate the invitation to come back. Again, thank you."
[Rob Baden's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0230 Hours]
Rob piloted his X-wing through the pylons of the Tynna Transit Supply Depot, rolling his fighter when he needed to, his three wingmates following suit. Just to his right and aft was Jeff, just like he always was, and to his left and aft was Bree with her own wingmate further left and aft. The four of them made up one of the patrols that were currently guarding the convoy as it resupplied. It was the first time he was in charge of more than just himself and Jeff and he felt a bit nervous at the prospect of being responsible for Bree's safety.
"I have to tell you," said Jeff over Rob's headset, "this place is amazing. I've never seen anything like it."
"That's because it's a unique design, Fourteen. Now cut the chatter, we're supposed to be patrolling, not talking." He throttled forward a bit more and broke to the right, circling around the other side of the station. He did have to agree with Jeff, it was a very breathtaking sight indeed. He had seen all kinds of stations, from Corellia to Nar Shadda and not one of them had the appeal that this one did.
"Control to Nine, over."
He hit a switch on his console and tapped the mike on his headset. "This is Nine, Regis Control, standing by."
"Nine, your shift is almost over but we have another job for you." There was a slight pause before the voice of McCall came back. "The captain has decided to take a tour of the station with Captain Ru'kaart. You will escort his shuttle to the Happy Jack and then return to base."
"Acknowledged, Regis Control, we're on our way." He cut the channel and switched back to the tactical channel he shared with Jeff, Bree, and her wingmate. "Okay, people, we've been ordered to escort a shuttle and then we're going back to the barn. So, stay tight and don't--" his voice trailed off as an alarm sounded on his console. "Oh Sith!"
[Main Bridge, Regis, Tynna System, 0235 Hours]
Alarms began to sound all over the bridge and Jemol swerved the command chair around to look at the tactical officer. "Status?"
"We're picking up eight, no, make that nine ships setting up position on the far side of the convoy. Imperial IFFs; no telling which faction."
"Type of ships?"
"Two Lancer-class frigates, two Strike Cruisers, one ISD, probably Mark II... one Interdictor cruiser, and three modified corvettes." The tactical officer looked up as he finished the list. "They're launching fighters and bombers, sir."
Jemol slammed his webbed hand on the arm of the chair and turned to McCall. "Lieutenant, get ahold of the captain, stop his shuttle from launching! Then put me on ship's intercom as well as ship-to-ship with the convoy and everyone else."
"Aye, sir." McCall quickly interrogated the main hangar. "Deck boss reports the Captain is safe and already on his way up." She hit a few more switches. "Channel open, sir."
"This is the Regis to all ships," Ta'aba croaked. "There are Imperial forces in the system and they have started an attack. All civilian craft seek cover behind the station. Quick Strike, Ravage, protect the convoy from any incoming bombers. All fighters launch, I repeat, all fighters launch."
The lift doors opened and Daly walked onto the bridge. "Status, Mr. Jemol?"
"We have a superior number of Imperial ships in the system and they are staging an attack against the convoy. We don't yet know just how they knew, but they do."
He heard Daly mutter under his breath, "This is just great."
[Main Bridge, Happy Jack, Tynna System, 0240 Hours]
"Are all moorings retracted?"
"Aye, sir."
Dave gritted his teeth at the sight of the approaching Imperial armada, then turned to his helmsman. "Full speed ahead." He turned back to the viewports and felt a shudder run through the ship as an alarm sounded. "What was that?"
"Captain, sublight engines are shut down. There was a feedback surge... it appears that they have been sabotaged."
Ru'kaart looked at him and shouted, "What?!"
"Confirmed, sir," called the on-duty engineering officer. "Engineering teams just checked over the work that the station personnel did on our engines. There's definite signs of sabotage on the framework."
"Well, try to repair it!" He hit the intercom button on the side of the bulkhead and cleared his throat. "This is the captain; an unknown force has sabotaged our engines and we are unable to maneuver beyond the confines of our docking berth. All personnel are to maintain battle stations and report anyone who is not where they should be without proper authorization. Ru'kaart out." He turned back to the command pit and spoke to his tactical officer. "Status on the Imperial ships?"
She looked back up at him and then back at her board. "The Lancers are taking up an escort position around the Interdictor. The Impstar Deuce is holding back as well, but it's closer than that of the Interdictor. The three corvettes are heading straight in while each of the strike cruisers are coming around on our flanks; they're launching gunboats and squints. Also a squadron of bombers being escorted by one of squints and one of eyeballs. They appear to be keeping three squadrons in reserve, sir."
"It wouldn't matter if they kept four or five in reserves, that's still a lot of fighters to go against." He turned his attention to the communications officer. "Patch me through to Blue Leader."
[Andrew Dobson's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0245 Hours]
Andrew waited until all the other fighters formed up near the Jack before he answered Ru'kaart's transmission. "Blue Lead to Jack Control, go ahead, sir."
"Dobber, we've got three groups moving in on us. What's the situation of the fighters?"
"Four of the Blues are in X-wings, the other four are in B-wings. Red has four pilots in A-wings, eight in X-wings, and five in B-wings. Dark Flight are all in X-wings."
Another voice cut into the transmission. "Blue Leader, this is Regis Control. Captain Ru'kaart, I'm sorry I wasn't on the bridge."
"That's quite all right, Captain. The show is yours."
"Thank you, Captain. Blue Leader, you are to head straight for that Interdictor and take it out. Your X-wings will provide cover for your B-wings; also, if you're able, take some shots at the cruiser yourself."
"I copy that, sir." He switched his channel over to the Blue tactical frequency. "Okay Blues, listen up. We're going to take down that Interdictor cruiser and we're going to let anything stand in our way. Luky, Zoz, Rogue, you're with me. We'll punch a hole through their left flank. The rest of you, head for the right flank, but keep your eyes open. I don't want to lose any people, got it? Now punch it!"
[Kelly St.Clair's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0250 Hours]
"Red Leader, flight dispersion is at your command."
Kelly tapped his mike and spoke into it. "Confirmed, Regis Control, Red Lead out." He switched his channel over to the fleet frequency and cleared his throat. "Okay, Reds, here's the deal. Element One will be escorting Two, Three, and Ten as they make their runs on the Virulence; that's the Impstar Deuce. Elements Four and Eight, you'll be intercepting those bombers before they have a chance to launch their warheads. The rest, including Dark Flight, take out the fighters and any bombers you can. Move out!"
He throttled his X-wing and took up the lead position at a flying wedge of fighters. It didn't take long for them to pass near the advanced group of fighters, six TIE fighters from the three Modified Corvettes coming in from straight ahead. "Eleven, Eighteen, we'll take the fighters and make a hole. B-wings, fire on the corvettes as you pass, but save your warheads for the destroyer."
"Copy that, Lead," came the voice of Mike Barros.
A moment later, Kelly threw the stick to the left and banked out of the center, Barros and Damos following his maneuver expertly. Bringing his nose back on target, he centered one of the oncoming TIEs in his sights and squeezed the trigger. "Gotcha!"
The fighter that Kelly had been firing at exploded nicely, the remaining parts spinning off into the distance. Damos also scored a kill. The one that Barros targeted, however, was still full of power and firing at the both of them. "Eleven, follow me and shoot when I tell you."
"Copy, Lead."
Kelly did a snap roll and came up behind the eyeball, peppering space around it with shots, driving it right into the sights of Mike Barros' lasers. "Fire!" he repeated.
A quad burst of hot light spat out from Barros' wingtips and caught the TIE dead on, shredding it to pieces. There wasn't enough left to make a memorial statue of the pilot. "Scratch one!" Barros crowed."Excellent shot, Eleven." Kelly pulled back on his stick and brought his X-wing back in line towards the capital ships. Off to the right he could see the B-wings making their way towards the corvettes and changed course to follow them. "Okay, form up and stick with me." Barros and Damos acknowledged, their fighters dropping in on his left and right.
[Steve Michadick's B-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0300 Hours]
"Watch it, Eight, you're getting a little too close to that corvette."
Steve rolled his B-wing just as a blast from a turbo-laser shot through the space he had occupied. "Thanks for the watchful eye, Three." Steve touched the selection switch on his stick and changed over from lasers to ion cannons. "Shoot at me, will you? How about an ion blast to ruin your day?" He hit the trigger and blue streaks shot out from the wing tips. All three ion blasts hit the turbo-laser turret and he saw sparks sizzling across the upper bow of the ship. "Turret out of commission."
"Eight, what's your status?"
Steve tapped the mike on his headset as he pulled back on the stick. "Guns are out on this corvette and shields are down to five percent, Lead." He throttled forward again and did a rapid climb so he could come about. "I'm taking it out."
"Three is coming in for support, Eight." A moment later Jeni's B-wing came along side Steve's and she gave him a thumbs-up. "I'm on your wing."
"Copy that, Three. Here we go." He lined up his sights on the corvette and switched back to laser control. "Fire!"
Both Steve and Jeni pulled on their triggers at the same time and orange-red light shot from their laser tips. With such a sustained barrage of fire against the corvette it didn't stand a chance and its engines began to explode, one by one.
Steve pulled back on his stick and began another rapid climb, the engine and wing of his bomber spinning around the cockpit. "Pull out, pull out, she's going to blow!" Jeni followed his example and the two of them raced out of range just as the rear section of the corvette exploded, thrusting the bridge section to the side.
"Woo hoo! Look at her go... hey! The other one's going to hit!"
Trailing flames and venting gas, the front half of the destroyed corvette spun into the path of its companion. The second corvette had just started to turn away when it rammed the drifting hulk. It stopped dead and began to burn as well, escape pods bursting from its flanks. "By the Eternal Light! That's one for the books!"
"Glad you approve, Eight," came St.Clair's voice over the headset. "Now could you help us with this last corvette, please?"
Steve looked to his right and saw that the X-wings had finally caught up with the B-wings and were assaulting the last corvette. "We're on our way, Lead."
[Bree Kosner's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0310 Hours]
Bree hit the rudder and rolled onto her port wing. "Two, target the lead gunboat. Three, Four, make a diversionary run on that strike cruiser and try and draw away the fighters." She set her sights on the lead TIE Interceptor and grinned. "Bye-bye." Her lasers fired with precision despite her corkscrew roll. The squint fired back but was hit before it could get off a second set of shots. "Yes!" she shouted as she saw it spinning out of control. She fired another shot and nailed it right in the ball cockpit, briefly illuminating that section of space with the fighter's destruction. "Scratch one squint."
"Lead, this is Three, I'm in trouble!"
Bree turned her fighter around and saw Three and Four bracketed by turbolaser fire from the cruiser. Three's tail was trailing smoke and she thought she saw one of the engines damaged. "Three, punch out! You've got an engine that's about to-"
Three's fighter broke apart as a laser shot ignited the leaking fuel from the engine. She could hear the pilot's screams as he was roasted in his cockpit. Seconds later the X-wing once designated as Dark Three blew apart, shrapnel shooting in all directions from the force of the explosion.
"Two, Four, regroup on me!" She pulled on her stick and turned back towards the group of Interceptors and gunboats escorting the strike cruiser. "Let's get rid of these fighters and then we can hull that cruiser. Fire at will!"
Blood coursed through her at a fast pace as she pressed the trigger letting loose red lights of fire from her wingtips. She didn't release the trigger until she passed all the way through the cloud of fighters and was looping around for another pass. Both her wingmates had succeeded in destroying two fighters each, leaving only two Interceptors and two gunboats alive. After their second pass, none were left and Bree turned her attention back to the strike cruiser. "We better hurry up," she said as green laser fire began to blanket their surroundings. "The cruiser is almost within firing range of the station."
At the flick of a switch, her target reticule changed to the yellow box of a warhead sight. She selected dual fire and spoke again to her wingmen. "We'll fire at once, to make the hit more costly." Bree zigzagged between the laser fire and targeted the smaller of the port engines. "Two, target the smaller of the starboard engines. Four, fire a shot at each of the two large engines. On my mark... fire!"
Six blue streaks shot out from the X-wings and plunged into the aft of the cruiser. Almost as if on cue, the forward guns opened fire on the station as the aft guns continued to fire at the New Republic fighters. "Second barrage! Two, fire at the larger engine, Four, fire at the smaller engines!"
Six more streaks shot out from the fighters and hit the engines again. Both of the smaller engines exploded and the ship slowed considerably. Off in the distance the green turbolaser fire of the cruiser splashed against the hull of the station. Several of the closest docking arms exploded and Bree heard the voice of Captain Daly on the fleet channel.
"This is Captain Gideon Daly of the New Republic frigate Regis to all Tynna Transit Supply Depot personnel. For your own safety, evacuate the station immediately. We will take on as many people as we can. All those who have jump-capable ships, please take on as many passengers as you can. Daly out."
"You hear that, people? The station is being hit hard. Let's take out this cruiser now!" She fired the last of her torpedoes at the remaining engines and saw her wingmates do the same. The last six warheads impacted on the engines and set off a massive explosion. "Get clear!" she shouted into her mike as she punched the throttle. She noticed that Four was following her but the dot representing Two on the sensor board blinked out of existence. She winced, allowing herself only an instant to mourn. "Okay, Four, let's go find some more fighters."
"With you, Lead."
[Main Bridge, Happy Jack, Tynna System, 0315 Hours]
Ru'kaart struggled to sort information from all the reports being shouted at him. He wished he was somewhere, anywhere else... but this was his responsibility. "All right, settle down, all of you. Engineering, is there any progress on the state of our sublight engines?"
The chief engineer sounded out-of-breath and unhappy on the intercom. "We're testing the secondary systems to see if they've been sabotaged as well. So far they seem okay, so we're trying to reroute."
"Well, keep working on it." He turned to his tactical officer, Lieutenant Vanse. "Tell me about the TIE bombers."
"Red's A-wings are knocking them down, but they keep getting tangled up with the escorting Interceptors."
"How soon before the remaining bombers are in firing range?"
"INCOMING!"
Everyone ducked as a proton torpedo flashed overhead and struck the command tower a few decks above. Ru'kaart helped the tactical officer to her feet. "Never mind, I think I just got my answer."
[Neill Magill's A-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0325 Hours]
"Okay, tighten it up." Neill did a snap-roll and wound up on the other side of Hans Allen, his wingmate. "We've got to take out the rest of those bombers before they fire any more torps at the Jack."
"Copy that, sir, I can do it," replied Rob Huberty, one of the newest and most enthusiastic young pilots in the unit. "Just give me some cover."
"Consider it done, Fifteen. Sixteen, Seventeen, follow me in." Neill pushed his throttle forward to the stop and raced towards the cloud of bombers and squints, the two A-wings behind him following closely. He could just make out Huberty's fighter angling in on the other side. "Okay, Fifteen, whenever you're ready."
"Now!"
Neill darted into the middle of the cloud and expertly dumb-fired two missiles at a pair of Interceptors, blasting them apart before they could react. Allen and Iddo Geva each took out another with their lasers. On the far side of the Imperial formation, Huberty locked and fired missiles as fast as he dared, taking out four dupes before the others scattered. "Excellent work, Fifteen."
"Two, watch out!"
Neill turned his head just in time to see his starboard engine eat a concussion missile and explode. Warning alarms sounded all over his board as the fighter began to spin out of control.
"Two, punch out, punch out!"
By reflex he yanked the eject handle. He felt himself being thrust upward by a great force; then he was surrounded by cold, dark silence and darting slivers of light. He checked that his suit had sealed properly, then breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that help would arrive before he ran out of heat or air. This is not what I signed up for.
[Rob Baden's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0330 Hours]
A series of beeps and whistles from Torch were translated in a window on Rob's console. He grimaced at the message there. "This is Red Nine to Happy Jack, come in."
It took a few moments before the voice of the communications officer answered. "Happy Jack Control, what is it Red Nine?"
"Put me on with the captain immediately, it's an emergency."
"The captain is busy, Red Nine."
Rob hit the console with his fist. "Listen, if I don't talk to him you're going to be on the other side of life real soon! Now put me through!"
It was actually several seconds before the gruff voice of Dave Ru'kaart filled his ear. "This is Ru'kaart. Talk fast, Lieutenant."
"Captain, the remaining strike cruiser just launched four assault transports headed for your Hangar Bay, and the cruiser itself is heading for your stern. Am I correct in assuming that you can't fire most of your guns with the station in the way?"
"You'd be correct, Lieutenant," Ru'kaart replied soberly. "How soon until they get here?"
Rob checked his CMD, which currently showed the lead transport. "Twenty-five, maybe thirty minutes. Is there any way you can stop the boarding?"
"Negative. The Jack has always been undercrewed; we don't have enough people on board to hold off that many stormtroopers. And we still can't maneuver. If we can't get the engines back on-line, we'll have to--"
The transmission was suddenly cut off. A second attempt to contact the Star Destroyer was answered only by static. "Torch," he said, "report status of the Jack. Why aren't they answering?"
HAPPY JACK'S COMMUNICATIONS ARRAY DESTROYED BY TORPEDO IMPACT.
"Great. Not only are they about to be boarded but they can't even tell us what they're going to do!"
[Main Engineering, Happy Jack, 0335 Hours]
"We're ready to give it a try, Chief."
The Happy Jack's chief engineer, a veteran officer who had once held a similar post aboard a Victory-class cruiser back when such vessels were still new, nodded to his assistant. "Very well, bring up power levels on the secondaries, and watch them closely in case the load spikes." He examined the status board intently for any sign of trouble, especially with the number three engine, as his order was carried out. The hum from the large chamber below the control room began to rise in volume and pitch.
The secondary power relays had functioned normally during tests. When full power was applied to them, however, several unusual things happened. First the relays fused themselves together in a shower of sparks that injured two unfortunate techs who were standing underneath. Then a recently-inserted circuit board in the main coolant regulator instructed the system to immediately purge all engine coolant into space.
Within moments, the stern of the Star Destroyer was swathed in an expanding sickly-yellow cloud. The sublight engines, stuck on full power, began to heat up rapidly as coolant levels dropped to nothing. Alarms howled through the engineering spaces as the crew tried, without success, to stop the runaway.
The chief engineer had just slammed his hand down on the evacuation alarm and started for the nearest escape pod when the already abused port-side engine exploded. Flames and shrapnel blew out the back of the Star Destroyer, shaking the entire vessel. Conduits arced and exploded from feedback. Then the center engine detonated as well. Purely by chance, the blast destroyed the fused secondary circuits (and anyone who happened to be in the way), causing the third and final engine to shut down automatically. This was scant consolation to the surviving engineers who groped their way, coughing and screaming, through the hellish scene towards the flashing sirens and escape hatches.
The Happy Jack, its stern a gutted ruin, began to burn.
[Andrew Dobson's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0350 Hours]
The battle had been going on for a full hour and the Blues were still kicking. They had managed to take out one of the Lancers despite its fearsome anti-starfighter armament and forced the other to withdraw, leaving just the Interdictor's own fighters to defend it. So far Andrew and his squadron had taken out four of the twelve TIEs and hadn't lost a single pilot yet. He wondered how much longer their luck could stretch.
"Five, follow me in. Eight, Eleven, hang back until we can take out some more of these fighters."
"Understood, Lead."
Andrew flew into the midst of the remaining eight TIEs and fired off two quad bursts. One of them missed its mark, but the other one completely destroyed the fighter it was going for. Luciano did likewise but only winged both of his targets. "Good shooting, Five. Now let's finish it." Dobber dove back in, Luciano close on his wing. This time he succeeded in destroying the fighter that he missed last time and Luciano finished off the two he clipped before. "Again, good shooting, Five. Two, what's your status?"
The voice of Geoff Ryan buzzed in Andrew's headset speaker. "We've managed to destroy the rest of the fighters and are now heading for the shield generator atop the command tower. Three and Six are headed around back and are targeting the engines.""Excellent. We'll be right there to lend you a hand."
"Lead," Luciano called to him. "Take a look at the Jack."
Andrew glanced right to see his command ship, still trapped in its repair bay. What he saw made him swallow hard. His scopes showed a flight of red dots converging on the position of the Jack and the remaining strike cruiser maneuvering to come up under the bow. "Okay people, listen up. We have got to destroy this Interdictor as fast as possible and get back there to help out the Jack. So let's get to it!"
[Bree Kosner's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0400 Hours]
Bree and her remaining wingmate flew towards the ISD-II Virulence. "This is Dark Flight calling any friendly forces in the vicinity of the Impstar Deuce, we're on approach and are preparing to attack. Would appreciate some help."
There was a small pause and then the familiar voice of Rob Baden sounded in her ear. "This is Red Nine and Fourteen, we're playing tag with their surface guns. Let's say we help each other out."
"Confirmed, Red Nine, Dark Lead is on the way." She pushed her throttle to full and changed her fire mode from single to linked. The Imperial warship filled her view, green lines of turbolaser fire starting to reach for her. I have got to be out of my mind. "Dark Four, break hard starboard and try to draw some of their fire. Red Fourteen, break hard port and do likewise. Red Nine, on my mark, target the closest turret and feed it a torp."
"Copy that," came Rob's reply.
Bree rolled to port and started firing blindly, trusting that she couldn't miss the Virulence's great grey-white bulk. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Dark Four and Red Fourteen doing likewise and above her Rob's fighter was silhouetted against the blackness of space. "Ready... fire!"
Above her a blue trail raced out of Rob's fighter and headed straight for one of the turrets on the bow of the ship. The gun's fire tracked Bree until the torpedo hit right on top of it, blowing it out in a fountain of fire. "Turret's gone."
She was about to congratulate him when her R2 unit began to beep shrilly. "What, Jeeves?" Before she could look down at the little translation screen, an orange spot in her forward view grew into a concussion missile heading straight for her. She jerked her stick to the side, but not fast enough. The next thing she felt was being thrust forward in her straps, then to the right, as her X-wing tumbled out of control.
"Kosner! Bree! Punch out, punch out!"
She tried to reach for her ejection lever, but her inertial compensator had failed and the centrifugal force of the spin made it impossible. Her helmet smacked painfully against the canopy rail; she looked up and saw the Virulence's main hangar growing larger, ready to swallow her. "Rob..." she whispered into her headset mike, then closed her eyes just before her spinning X-wing crashed into the racks of TIE fighters waiting for launch, engulfing everything in flames.
[Rob Baden's X-wing, Space, Tynna System, 0405 Hours]
Someone was screaming, an incoherent cry of rage and pain. Slowly Rob realized it was him.
Not Bree, not again! The Empire had taken someone else from him, someone he had just begun to know. They will pay, they will PAY! He forced his feelings down into the pit of his stomach, where they burned even hotter, fueling his vengeance.
"Rob...?" Jeff was asking. "You okay?"
Rob's answer was to turn his X-wing around and switch his torpedoes to dual-fire. "Fourteen, Dark Four, follow me. We're going to get them. We're going to kill them all. Anyone else in the area, I could use some help."
"This is Red Six and Seven, we're on our way."
Rob nodded; that was satisfactory. "Okay everyone, listen up. Fourteen, Dark Four, target one of the two shield towers and fire a duel salvo on my command. Six and Seven, once the shields are down you should be clear to make a run for the command tower. Fourteen, Dark Four, do likewise. Let's take this thing down!"
As he began his run towards the Virulence, off in the distance shuttles and pods were beginning to depart from the other Star Destroyer present.
[Secondary Hangar Bay, Happy Jack, Tynna System, 0405 Hours]
Lieutenant Vanse looked on as the rest of the command crew boarded the remaining shuttles. Most of the ship had been evacuated through the main hangar just aft of this one, but the secondary hangar was used mostly for command staff and the top officers due to it being directly accessible through a series of lift tubes straight from the bridge and engineering.
She turned to see Captain Ru'kaart standing behind her. "Status, lieutenant?"
Vanse coughed lightly and looked at her datapad. "They should be aboard any moment now, sir. All shuttles and personnel have evacuated the ship, except for us."
"Good. Now get going."
"You're not coming, are you, sir?" It wasn't really a question; she recognized the look in his eye. "You're going to set the self-destruct manually, is that it?"
Ru'kaart nodded his head with a rueful half-smile. "Because the communications array is destroyed we can't transmit it, and since there will be boarding parties coming in we can't take the risk of a timer as they might be able to dismantle it. Manually is the only option we have."
Vanse nodded. "You're right. The hard way it is." She turned away... then completed the motion by whirling about and kicking him in the chest, sending him flying toward the last shuttle in the otherwise empty bay. Before he could pick himself up, she was at his side and banged his head against the deck hard enough to knock him unconscious. "Sorry, sir."
One of the other officers came running down the ramp to see what was going on. By then, Vanse had a blaster in her hand and pointing at him. "Pick him up and take off. I'll take care of the self-destruct. I can't let him sacrifice himself." When the man hesitated, she waved the muzzle of the blaster at him. "Move!"
The shuttle lifted off behind Vanse as she walked steadily toward the lift doors, pulling a comm link from her belt. It didn't have enough range to transmit from outside the Happy Jack, but it would be enough to set off the self-destruct from here. A smile spread over her face as she stepped into the lift car, knowing that the first Imperial assault transport should be touching down in the main hangar right about now. Won't they be in for a rather large surprise?
[Main Bridge, Regis, Tynna System, 0410 Hours]
Daly surveyed the tactical display, glancing out the forward viewport to compare it with the evidence of his own eyes. Blue Squadron had succeeded in eliminating one of the Lancers and forcing the other, along with the Interdictor it was protecting, to withdraw with heavy damage. But that success had come at a high cost. Three of their B-wings and a pair of X-wings had been shot down in the assault. SAR shuttles were busy picking up the EV Blue pilots, however, and so far it looked like there might not be any fatalities.
That couldn't be said of Dark Flight, however. All but one had been killed in the attack on the strike cruiser Pike and the ISD-II Virulence. Yet they had destroyed the former and played a part in forcing the latter to jump to hyperspace after its shields failed.
The B-wings and X-wings of Red Squadron had destroyed all three of the Imperial corvettes and accounted for most of the fighters and bombers sent their way. The only loss so far was Major Magill, and he had already been retrieved.
In the other column, however, was the Happy Jack. The worst of the fires in the stern had gone out, having exhausted their fuel, but fire and smoke were still spreading through the ship; as were Imperial boarding parties. The ASD's entire remaining complement, packed into shuttles and other craft, had joined the convoy except for those who had been brought aboard the Regis in urgent need of medical attention. Daly had moved his own ship in as close as he dared to pick up survivors. It seemed certain that the New Republic was finally going to lose the Jack, which had been the subject of several such attacks ever since its serendipitous capture in the aftermath of Hoth.
"Sensors, do you see any more escape pods coming from the Happy Jack or the depot?"
"Negative, sir, there's... wait a moment, I'm getting a power buildup in the Jack's main reactor. It's on an overload spiral."
"Helm, move us away. Shields to maximum."
Less than a minute later, a new sun was born in the belly of the Happy Jack. Half-melted fragments flew in all directions from the central fireball. The Tynna Transit Supply Depot was caught in the blast and began to break apart as well. The strike cruiser that had taken up a stationary position below the Jack was now rolling onto its side, its own hull afire and its engines exploding in sequence. "By the Force!" Daly gasped.
A new alarm sounded on the Regis's bridge. "Proximity alert... sir, a large chunk of debris is headed right for us!"
Daly swore. "Can we get out of the way in time?" He could see it now, backlit against the explosion, turning slowly end over end: half pristine white, half charred black. It was as big as a Corellian corvette and coming at them nearly straight on.
"I don't think so, sir." Jons, the young helmsman, tried anyway, swinging the Regis's boom about as quickly as it would turn so that the engines could push them aside. Daly planted himself in his seat and pushed the intercom button. "All hands brace for impact and heavy maneuvers, repeat, all hands brace for impact."
A giant's fist struck the frigate a glancing blow on its left cheek. The Regis shook and metal buckled; the effects on her less sturdy crew were even more violent. Jons was thrown from his chair and went flying through the air. Consoles shorted out and caught fire, but their operators were too busy clinging to anything stable to grab extinguishers and put them out. With a second, fainter shock, the tumbling chunk of debris and the frigate parted ways.
Daly picked himself up off the deck and reached over the chair arm to slap the intercom again. "Medical team to the bridge!" He then busied himself helping his officers. Except for Jons, who had several broken bones from when he hit the far bulkhead, injuries were mostly minor. A flicker from the forward viewport caught Daly's eye; the rest of the station was burning and coming apart. He shook his head sadly. I guess you'd have to call this one a draw.
[Director's Officer, Imperial Intelligence, Coruscant System, 1200 Hours]
Ysanne Isard looked up as her aide entered. "Yes?"
"We've just received a report from our attack force at Tynna. They were unable to significantly damage the convoy before being forced to withdraw, but they did destroy the Octavian."
Isard nodded her head, displaying no other reaction. "At least that stain on the Empire's honor has finally been wiped clean. Inform the Virulence's captain that I expect a full report on the engagement... including why he did not finish the Rebels off." She turned back to her terminal. "That will be all."
[Main Bridge, Regis, Hyperspace, 0330 Hours]
Ru'kaart stood in front of the viewports, once again looking out at the shifting vista of hyperspace. This was the first time in years he had done so from any ship other than the Happy Jack. Part of him still couldn't believe that the ship was actually gone, that it was no longer a part of him. Rather like an amputee still feels his missing limb, I suppose. Thoughts of injuries made him reach for the sore spot on the back of his head, then think better of rubbing it. He was still a bit mad at Vanse for knocking him out, but he knew that she had done it to save him. For that he was going to recommend she receive the Medal of Honor. Too bad it has to be awarded posthumously. He also knew that some of his anger was really jealousy, because she had made the grand gesture instead of him. A captain was supposed to go down with his ship, correct? Then why was he standing here, alive, on the bridge of another?
There was a noise behind him and he turned to see Daly moving up beside him. "It's such a beautiful view, wouldn't you say, Captain?"
Ru'kaart nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the view port. "That it is, Captain, that it is." He stood silent for a few more moment and then turned around at Daly again. "I want to thank you for helping to take on as many of my people as you could. I know that a ship like this has little room... "
"You've got that right."
"... and you've had to double and triple bunk to accommodate, even put people in the working spaces, but I really do appreciate it."
"Glad I could be of assistance." Daly offered his hand and Ru'kaart took it, clung to it as an anchor. "It'll work out, Dave," Gideon murmured, so low only his fellow skipper could hear his words. "No matter how bad it looks, there's always a tomorrow."
[Baden and Michadick's Quarters, Regis, Sluis Van System, 0400 Hours]
As soon as he heard the lock on his door disengage, Rob knew who it was. He pulled the covers tighter over his head and said in a pained whisper, "go away, Trix."
The footsteps stopped, but did not turn around and leave. A moment later the bed sagged on one side as she sat down. "No. Now, I've tried to get through to you every day since you got here and you've shut me out ninety-nine percent of the time. Well, this time I'm not going away and you're going to have to open up to me or kill me."
Rob sighed and kept his head under the covers. This is not what he wanted; this is not what he signed up for. He stayed silent for a few minutes and then pushed the covers off. "Okay... but you can't tell anyone else."
Trixel looked at him with nothing but sympathy on her face. "I promise, Rob."
[Briefing Room, Independence, Sluis Van System, 1400 Hours]
"I can't believe it's been three weeks, and we're still here," Neill muttered to Kelly. "Aren't the repairs done yet?"
"How about I smack you with a piece of Star Destroyer and see how long you're out of action?" Kelly whispered back with a wry grin. "Enjoy the downtime while it lasts. Besides," he added more seriously, "Cap'n Daly isn't going to cut and run on Ru'kaart until the inquiry's over." With a nod of his head, he indicated the two starship captains sitting together near the front of the room.
Neill nodded, then turned in his chair. "Hey, here they come." Indeed, Ackbar and the other two members of the board of inquiry -- an older Human, a Clone War vet by the look of him, and another Mon Calamari -- had just come in through the rear door. Daly and Ru'kaart rose respectfully, as did St.Clair and Magill and the rest of the audience. Many of the latter were former members of the Happy Jack's crew, and the Reds had heard some of them speak over the past few days, all on behalf of their commander.
Ackbar took the center chair at the table at the front of the briefing room, his fellow officers on either side. "Please be seated," he instructed. When all had taken their seats, he continued. "This board has completed its review of all data and testimony presented regarding the loss of the Alliance Star Destroyer Happy Jack twenty-three Standard days ago." Ackbar didn't hesitate in the slightest over the whimsical name. "The board has also reviewed the role of Captain Dave Ru'kaart in the loss of his command, and is now prepared to issue its official findings."
There was a faint intake of breath all over the room as the gallery waited to hear of a man's fate. Would it be merciful, or damning?
Ackbar sat, and the other Mon Cal stood. "Captain Ru'kaart," he said. The named man stood as well, steeling himself for the verdict. "It is the finding of this board of inquiry that the loss of the ASD Happy Jack was the result of unavoidable error. Lieutenant DeWulf has admitted that it was his sloppy astrogation which initially put the Happy Jack at risk." Here the senior officer directed a stern look at the pale young man in Fleet green sitting to one side of the gallery. "All reasonable security precautions were taken during the repair layover at Tynna Transit Supply Depot; nevertheless, a saboteur or saboteurs were able to disable the ship's engines while it was docked at the station, leaving it a nearly helpless target. In all other aspects of your conduct during the battle with Imperial forces, the board finds no fault."
"Therefore," the Mon Calamari concluded before the whispers could rise further, "this board recommends that a court-martial be convened aboard the Independence for Lt. DeWulf as soon as is practical; that all members of the ship's company be debriefed on security procedures while awaiting new assignment; and that a note be added to Captain Ru'kaart's record to indicate that the loss of the Happy Jack was due to circumstances beyond his control. This board stands adjourned."
The final sentence was all but drowned out by the sounds of congratulation (and sympathy) from the audience. A sergeant-at-arms appeared beside the unfortunate Lt. DeWulf; after exchanging a few somber words with those nearby, he was led meekly away to await his trial. Captain Daly shook hands with Ru'kaart, who smiled back, then followed his former astrogator out of the room with his eyes before the crowd of well-wishers grew too thick around him to see. Ackbar and the other board members filed out of the room almost unnoticed.
A Quarren officer with light amber skin moved through the celebration, now and then stopping to ask certain members of the crowd to meet with her and the Admiral in an hour. Captains Daly and Ru'kaart both received such invitations, as did St.Clair and Magill.
[Admiral Ackbar's Office, Independence, Sluis Van System, 1500 Hours]
When Red Leader and his XO found their way to the Admiral's office a few minutes before the hour, they discovered several other people in attendance. Ackbar was there, of course, as was his Quarren aide and the two captains. An unfamiliar Mon Calamari was also present, along with an unhappy-looking Andrew Dobson. Geoff Ryan was still MIA; his radio beacon had been picked up during the battle, showing that he had successfully ejected, but Ryan himself had not been located. Hope that the Blue Squadron XO was still alive, and not either frozen to death in space or in the hands of the Empire, was growing slimmer every day.
Ackbar addressed Ru'kaart. "First of all, Captain, my personal condolences on the loss of your ship. It is one thing to be absolved of blame by a board of inquiry, and another to accept it." Dave nodded, his expression showing he plainly understood.
"Now, let me introduce Lieutenant Livse Serule--" He indicated the Quarren, who dipped her tentacled head in acknowledgement. "-- and Commander Abodar." The salmon-colored Mon Calamari nodded as well. "They already know all of you." Ackbar looked at Ru'kaart again. "Commander Abodar is your new First Officer."
Dave blinked, not sure he'd heard right. "Excuse me?"
"An honor to serve with you, Captain," Abodar said, unfazed by the human's reaction. He extended a hand and Dave shook it numbly. Kelly and Neill exchanged bemused glances.
"This is a joke, right? You can't possibly be giving me another ship so soon."
"I assure you," Ackbar replied, "we are all quite serious. See for yourself." He touched a control on his desk and the tiny holoprojector mounted in its surface hummed to life, projecting the foot-long translucent image of a lumpy ovoid starship into the office's moist air. "This is the cruiser Morning Star, recently completed at the shipyards of my homeworld. She has now finished her trials and is ready to begin her service to the New Republic. But she is still lacking several vital components... first among them a captain." He turned to the Quarren at his side. "Lieutenant Serule is the Morning Star's Personnel Officer. When she learned that tragic circumstance had made you, shall we say 'available,' she was quite insistent in her recommendation that you be given this command." His expression, and Serule's, seemed amused to those with experience reading such. "You will find, Captain, that many of your former crew will be receiving similar offers in the next few days. Given their statements before the board, I am certain that most of them will be glad to serve under you again."
Ru'kaart stared, his mouth hanging slightly open, as Ackbar went on. "As Blue Squadron is also without a base of operations, it will be transferred to the Morning Star as well. We would not want to break up such a fine pairing." The Admiral again paused to twitch his barbels in a Calamari smile. He was obviously at least somewhat aware of the friendly rivalry between the free-spirited pilots of Blue Squadron and their skipper. "However, Starfighter Command still feels that it is wasteful to place a cruiser-class vessel at the disposal of a single squadron. Fortunately, a solution may be at hand. Colonel St.Clair?"
Kelly sat up straighter. "Admiral?"
"I am told that Red Squadron has grown to nearly twice the size of a standard squadron, thanks to the flood of recruits we have had since Endor. Counting the cadets in your Training Section, Red Squadron is as large as when it was based on the Defiance. The Regis is a fine vessel, and you have served each other well--" (here a nod to Daly) "-- but perhaps it is time you had a roomier home."
St.Clair blinked as he realized what the Admiral was proposing. "But, well... may I speak freely, sir?" Ackbar nodded and waved him on. "You're correct when you say the Regis is our home. It's the only home that anyone in Red now has known. And she's going to be out of the repair dock soon. What's going to happen to her?"
"You may have noticed, Colonel, that a cruiser hardly ever operates alone." Ackbar's burbling voice sounded surprisingly dry, at least in its wit. "The Regis will continue to serve as a training frigate... and also as escort to the Morning Star. Meanwhile, combat operations will be transferred to a more appropriate vessel, as they should have been long ago. Red is no longer merely a training squadron."
A brief silence followed, ended by Dobson. "Admiral, I'm not sure... Blue Squadron is seriously under-strength right now, sir. Many of our pilots announced their intention to leave, for various personal reasons, before this all happened. And now..." He trailed off, unable to continue. The empty chair beside him was like a gaping wound.
"We'll help, Dobber." Kelly had blurted it out instinctively; now he saw Neill and the others staring at him, but he'd put himself on the spot. He grabbed for the first words that came to him. "We're going to be shipmates, right? Well, shipmates help each other. That's just how it is." He looked around the room for support, his eyes daring anyone to say otherwise.
"Well said, Colonel," Ackbar agreed. "Cooperation is one of the principles the Alliance was founded on. And just as it has led us to this new beginning that so many have dreamed of for so long, so may it be for you and your squadrons."
[Main Hangar Bay, Morning Star, Sluis Van System, 1000 Hours]
The next morning found Kelly standing in a hangar almost as large as the Happy Jack's. The Morning Star made up for the difference by having more than one. This one, on the cruiser's port side, presently had a magnificent view of the slowly turning planet below. Kelly tucked his hands into the pockets of his uniform to protect them from the wintry chill in the air and watched as a shuttle on final approach folded its wings and passed through the invisible magnetic containment field, settling to the deck with surprising grace. There were lots of shuttles coming and going today, bringing personnel and supplies up from Sluis Van or from other ships in orbit.
The next arrival was not a shuttle or transport, however, but a sleek X-wing starfighter with thick blue stripes along its sides. Kelly took a hand out of his pocket to wave at the pilot as the X-wing glided overhead on a whisper of repulsors, engines idling. It pivoted to face outward before settling into its slot against one of the sloping side walls. A deckhand pushed a ladder up to the side as the engines shut down and the tinted canopy rose.
Andrew pulled off his helmet and tossed it to the crewman before climbing out of the cockpit, then reclaimed it from him with a nod of thanks. It had been a short hop over from the Independence, and this hangar was much like the one he'd just left. But here he wasn't a passenger or guest; this was going to be home from now on. That would take some getting used to.
Kelly met him as he walked away from the fighter. "Welcome aboard. Quite a beaut, isn't she?" He'd given the cruiser a bow-to-stern flyby before landing his own fighter in the starboard hangar almost an hour earlier. The Morning Star had a cetacean grace that he had to admit was lacking in the sharper lines of ships like the Regis.
Andrew smiled and nodded, looking around the hangar again. While he did that, Kelly dug a datapad out of one of his other pockets and presented it to him with a flourish. "You might want to have a look at this too."
"What is it?" Dobson asked, taking the pad. There was a short list of names showing on the small screen. Sean Healey was at the top of it, followed by Steve Michadick, Mike Barros, Hans Allen... "These are all Red Squadron pilots."
"Correct. And as of this morning, they're all Blue Squadron pilots, pending your approval of their transfers."
Andrew stared at him as if he'd grown a Devaronian's horns. Kelly chuckled. "You said it yourself: you're seriously short of pilots, especially experienced ones. Whereas Red has plenty, including some that deserve a shot at a little more prestige and responsibility. It used to be that Blue was the traditional next step up on the ladder for those who'd earned their wings in Red. I'm just trying to maintain tradition." Seeing that Dobson was still too shocked by this latest development to appreciate his attempts at humor, Kelly grew more serious. "Listen. I'd like to think my leadership played a part, but the main reason Red has so many good pilots right now is the wisdom of those who had this job before me and plain, simple luck. From what I've read of Blue's record, you've had your share of luck too, just about all of it bad. Maybe we can balance the scales a little here."
Kelly leaned forward and tapped the screen with a finger. "These pilots all volunteered when I asked. They want to help... not take over your squadron. They'll follow your orders, and without your authorization, their transfers don't go through. With them as an experienced and capable core, you can get on with rebuilding the unit." Kelly stepped back and looked expectant. "Well... what do you say, Blue Leader?"
Dobson looked at the names again, as if they would vanish before his eyes; they did not. Finally he looked up and smiled faintly. "I'll have to talk to the other surviving Blues, but... I think they'll say yes." He extended his hand. "Thank you, Colonel."
Kelly took the hand and shook it. "You're welcome, Colonel." He turned back to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hangar just in time to see the sun rise over the curve of Sluis Van. Squinting against the glare, he grinned. Things were going to be different, with the Emperor's throne up for grabs, the New Republic struggling to gain support and transform itself from a revolution into a functioning government, opportunistic warlords all trying to carve out their own slices of the Galaxy to rule... and now a new ship, a new home. But that was all right. Things change, and we must change along with them. Night gives way to morning, and every day brings with it a new dawn.
The End