[New Republic Provisional Council Chambers, Vuultin, Brentaal System, 1025 Hours]

Mon Mothma pounded the gavel on the table, trying to bring the arguing councilors back into a sense of order. It had been five minutes since she started pounding it, hoping it would have stopped the ravings of Fey'lya, but Kerrithrarr had let himself get baited and hooked on what the Bothan had been campaigning for. From there it had turned into a free-for-all, even Leia being brought into the fray. The only one other than herself who hadn't fallen into the pit was Admiral Ackbar; they both knew better than to ever be baited.

"Order!" said Mon Mothma, her voice raising just a whisper but with such a commanding tone that it was able to draw attention from everyone present, including the stoic guards at the door. The arguing came to a halt and the president cleared her throat gently. "Very well then, now that I have your attention, I believe we were discussing--in a rational air--our supposed next step towards Coruscant. Councilor Fey'lya, you had a point to make?"

Looking around and noticing that his arguing would not be tolerated again, the Bothan took his seat at the table and clicked a key on his small data-pad display. "After securing Brentaal and several other paths through the Colonies, the next logical step would be a strike at Kuat. It's close, in fact it's at our rear, and it provides a great deal of resources that we could exploit to our military."

"Your suggestion is, at best, laughable, Councilor," came the voice of Doman Beruss, the august Corellian woman sitting next to the Bothan. "Kuat, if you recall, is the home of Kuat Drive Yards, arguably the largest military supplier for the Empire. A strike against Kuat would require resources far beyond what we are currently capable of."

"It would cripple the Empire, Doman," continued Fey'lya. "Taking out Kuat would not only give just access to the largest military shipyard installation in the known galaxy, but would also provide us with an almost unlimited supply of ships and weapons."

"Rrrrrwooor."

The golden droid standing behind Leia muttered something that sounded like an "oh bother" and raises his voice module setting. "Councilor Kerrithrarr says that we would have a better chance of taking on Coruscant than we would at taking Kuat in our present condition."

"I must concur," quipped Leia, her elbows on the table and her hands just under her chin, holding up her head. The bags under her eyes displayed how much, or rather how little, sleep she had gotten the night before. Mon Mothma made a mental note to talk to her about that later. "Kuat is far too well defended in order to make any substantial and significant strike against it. No, it's better to strike back at another location, more core-ward." She gave a brief glance in the direction of the president before speaking more. "I say we try to liberate Chandrila."

The room suddenly went quiet and all eyes focused on the president. Chandrila was her home system, the system that she represented in the Imperial Senate before signing the Corellian Treaty and effectively starting the Rebel Alliance. Unlike other worlds, Chandrila had been spared much in the way of retribution from the Empire, which shocked many people in the New Republic, including Mon Mothma herself. It wasn't until a few weeks ago, just before his defection and subsequent death, that Sate Pestage sent a task force of Star Destroyers to blockade the planet; that was the one exception in an otherwise very low-level stream of retribution for Mon Mothma's involvement in the Rebellion.

"No," stated the president, cursing herself inwardly at how much she wanted to say yes. "I will not use this government and the military that serves it as a means of regaining personal territory. It is not of any large strategic nor tactical value, and it is not being overly oppressed at the moment."

"How can you say that?" pressed Leia, her long hair swirling about her shoulders as she leaned forward in her seat. "There are six Star Destroyers enforcing a blockade against the world. The destruction of those six ships would go a long way in helping to speed up our chances of taking Coruscant."

"Leia, there are hundreds of Star Destroyers throughout the entire galaxy; destroying six would not make much of a difference. No, a more direct approach is needed, something that will be easy to secure and use to our own methods once we have done away with the defenses." She glanced over at the Mon Calamari sitting to her left, his huge fish-like eyes regarding her intently. "Admiral."

"The Defender of the Core," stated the military commander-in-chief.

"Anaxes? That old derelict?" came the voice of Fey'lya. "It's nothing but a lowly-maintained world with barely-functioning shipyard facilities."

"They may be barely-functional, but they are functional, and if we are to take Coruscant we need to establish a shipyard and refit center closer to the Core. All of our operational shipyard and repair facilities are beyond the Expansion Region, in the Mid Rim and Outer Rim. All planets with such facilities in the Core are held by the Empire and heavily defended." Looking behind him he motioned for a one of the guards to dim the lights. Moments later the room darkened and the holo-projector in the middle of the table sparked to life, the transparent image of a world with several orbiting structures appearing.

"As you can see, while the facilities are rather antiquated, they are still functioning. Currently Anaxes serves as a reserve base for the Imperial Fleet, and is guarded, but not excessively so. The main facilities in orbit are protected by two Golan Defense Platforms, type one, as well as three Imperial Star Destroyers. There are, of course, subsequent smaller defending vessels, as well as some Imperial stormtrooper and army regiments on the ground."

"This is a preposterous venture, at best. At worst, it's a waste of military resources that could be better allocated somewhere else, like a strike against Fondor."

"That is on the opposite side of the Core, Councilor Fey'lya," interjected Beruss. "We're looking for a closer avenue towards Coruscant, not away from it." She shifted slightly in her seat and turned towards Mon Mothma. "Enough of this; I move for a vote to begin working on an attack plan for Anaxes."

"I second the motion," piped in Leia, though her expression suggested that she still thought of liberating Chandrila.

"A motion has been made, and seconded. We will now vote on the prospect of making an attack against Anaxes. All in favor, signify by raising your hand; all opposed, do not raise hands."

Seven hands went up, including her own. The one dissenting vote was that of Borsk Fey'lya. "Very well," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "I will abide by the council's decision. Let us begin planning what I hope will not be a waste of resources."

[Main Bridge, Morning Star, Commenor System, 0902 Hours]

Captain Dave Ru'kaart stood at the forward viewport, his hands clasped behind him as he looked out at the planet they were orbiting. Commenor had been a staunch supporter of the Rebellion for years and had allowed its moon to become a converted training facility. And from the way the world looked, it would have been a welcoming sight after facing nothing but bulkheads for months.

But he had denied himself the pleasure of shore leave; he didn't find it right to take a leave while his people weren't able to do so either.

"Captain."

Shaken from his thoughts, Ru'kaart turned slightly towards the communications console. "Yes, Commander?"

"Secure holo-transcript coming in, sir, from Brentaal IV, Office of Fleet Operations."

Frowning a little he made a motion with his hand to the door near him. "Send it to my day cabin, please." He walked towards the doors, hearing Uoart utter an "aye-aye, sir" on the way. Once inside his day cabin he walked over to the holo-projector and turned it on. Letters began to appear in front of him, the usual "eyes-only" format that he had seen dozens of times before. Shifting down to the end of the page he selected the "view transcript" option."

"Identity required," came the electronic voice of the computer.

"Ru'kaart, Dave, Captain, Commanding Officer, Morning Star."

"Identity confirmed; please give passcode clearance."

"Passcode Clearance, Alderaan, Aurek, Aurek, Barge-driver, One."

"Clearance granted; displaying transcript."

Many lines of glowing text filled the air, slowly scrolling to the bottom after a moment. When it was finished, the projector blinked off and Ru'kaart gave a very heavy sigh. "So much for enjoying beautiful scenery."

Heading back out of his day cabin and onto the bridge he thought about his new orders and did not find them to be good. "Commander Abodar," he said as he addressed his first officer. "Begin hyperdrive start-up procedures. Make course for an entry vector along the best route to the Alderaan system, best possible speed."

"Aye-aye, sir. Engineering, begin hyperdrive start-up procedures; Helm, make course for Alderaan, best possible speed."

"Commander Uoart," he continued, this time turning to the older man. "Inform the Regis to do similar, and coordinate entry vectors and time of hyperspace entry."

"Aye-aye, sir."

He walked over to the command chair and sat down in it slowly, folding his left leg over his right and scratching under his chin. He looked up as a shadow fell over his chair, the form of his Mon Calamari comrade over him. "Speak up, Commander, I'm not going to bite you."

"Alderaan, sir? I hardly call that a pleasant place to go."

"Yes. I have no real desire to see it again, since the last time I saw it I had my command blown up right under me within a week." He gave a smile with absolutely no warmth behind it. "Hopefully we don't end up blowing apart this ship as a repeat performance."

[Main Bridge, Morning Star, Hyperspace, 1509 Hours]

"Exiting hyperspace in ten seconds, Captain."

"Very good, Ensign."

The ship lurched and seemed to come to a dead stop as it broke out of hyperspace, the silhouettes of a frigate and a few escort X-wings flanking it.

Ru'kaart had to fight to keep from giving a shocked look on his face. What he saw before him was perhaps the largest array of ships since the Battle of Endor. All throughout the Graveyard were flotillas of ships ranging from gunships to cruisers. Almost every class of ship that was in the service of the New Republic was represented here.

The communications station came alive and Ru'kaart heard the Alderaanian talking softly into his gear. "Sir, I have guide path instructions for us from the on-site commander. We're to bear course Three-Three-One Mark Two, half sublight speed."

He nodded and then turned to the helmsman. "Helm, turn us around to course Three-Three-One Mark Two, half sublight speed."

"Aye, sir."

"Captain."

Ru'kaart turned towards a very young Bothan, his grey fur standing on end as he looked at the sensor readouts at his tactical console station. "Go ahead, Mr. Juv'lea."

"Sensors indicate that almost every other ship in the area are heading towards the same place we have been instructed, taking up flanking and escort positions in relation above, below, and to the side of the Maria."

"The Maria? The flagship of the Third Fleet?" He turned to look out the viewport again.

Juv'lea muttered under his breath, but was loud enough so that Ru'kaart was able to hear him. "That is considerably larger than the entirety of the Third Fleet. Just what the Sith are we doing here?"

"When Command sees fit to inform you, Lieutenant, rest assured, you will know. For the time being, however, watch the area around us and keep your opinions to yourself."

"Sir!" came the sharp reply as he turned back to his console.

The older officer turned back to take in a view of the bridge, his mind more on the safety of his crew than on what he was surely going to be asked to do. It just didn't make much sense tactically to put so many ships into one system, leaving vital avenues into and out of the Core unguarded. He never understood what the people at the top did, let alone the motivations behind some of their decisions, but he followed them to the letter as much as he was able to.

It's just that sometimes he was not sure if he wanted to.

[The Fishtank, Morning Star, Alderaan System, 1530 Hours]

Sean Healey looked out the viewport at the scattered asteroids of the Graveyard and gave a small sigh. Watching in a detached fashion as the ships moved into a formation around the large Mon Calamari cruiser far in the distance, he took another sip of his caf, grimacing at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. His gaze kept wondering to the larger chunks of the Graveyard, and as the system's star became visible he reflexively turned to look at where Alderaan would have been in relation.

"It never looks quite the same each time you come here," said a voice from behind him. Sean didn't have to turn around, as he knew who it was.

"I thought you were on duty, Commander."

Jack Uoart pulled out the chair next to Sean and sat down, resting his feet on the third seat left empty. "Captain said I could take a day off, since he's not sure how long we'll be in the system. Thought I might want to see this," he said as he gestured with his chin towards the viewport. "I haven't been here since just after Hoth, but I can already tell that it's quite different than what it was then."

"I was here weeks ago, just before the destruction of the Happy Jack. To be honest, I don't see much difference."

"It's not about the physical differential of the asteroids, son, or even the displacement of the endless satellite bodies in the system, but rather the feel of the area." He gave a wave over in the direction of the bar before turning to look at Sean. "Leo, the Graveyard is not meant to be a reminder of what we lost, but rather what we have. Look at yourself, you're the commanding officer of a strike squadron; your own command. How many people your age can say that? And how many Aldeeranians can say the same?"

"Well, I know of at least one who's got a higher position than I do," replied Sean with a sly grin on his face.

Uoart grinned back at him. "Somehow I think she's taken, unless you feel like challenging a Corellian smuggler to a duel."

"No, she's not worth that kind of trouble."

"You never know, son," he said as the bartender approached them. "There are few women who are, but the ones that are worth it, are amazing. I'll take an Upper-Downer, please, and turn on some music, this place is dull."

Sean chuckled a little and sipped his caf again. "So what was is like, Commander?"

"What was what like, son?"

He gestured with his mug towards the viewport. "Alderaan of old, before the Empire and the Rebellion."

"Oh, it was a beautiful world, always was. Blue lakes, endless grasslands. Even the cities were sculpted and sited to avoid disturbing the natural beauty. No war, practically no crime. Some hearty debates about the rise of Palpatine and his Empire, that's all. It was a sight to behold, and one that will live on forever in my heart." As the bartender set Uoart's glass in front of him, he raised it in toast. "So, my good man, let us have a drink: to the memory of Alderaan."

Sean returned the gesture, clinking his mug against the glass. "To the memory of Alderaan. May she always shine in our hearts."

[Imperial Palace, Imperial City, Coruscant System, 1809 Hours]

Halix Jove watched the holographic strategic overlay board of the known Galaxy. Tiny dots indicated the worlds currently in Imperial control, Rebel control, and independent systems. He didn't like that there seemed to be fewer Imperial motes every time, as more and more systems started falling to the Rebel military or openly cast out their Imperial leaders. Most disturbing of late was the fall of Brentaal IV in the Bormea Sector. Not only was the loss of the system a blow to loyalist spirits, but the world was a center of industry and manufacturing for the sector.

And it placed the Rebels a step closer to the Core.

"Since Brentaal the Rebels have not made any major incursions into Imperial space."

Halix turned to the tall man beside him, his expression unreadable. "If you dismiss the failed attempt to secure Pestage."

"The key word in that sentence is 'failed.' It failed, so therefore it is not important. They were sent in to try and extract him, not to take a world or destroy resources. It is not of any consequence."

"I doubt the director would agree with that assessment," said Halix as he turned back to the overlay board. "They're planning something, they have to be. They're close to the Core, but not close enough, not as close as they want to be. So, they are going to hit somewhere, somewhere that will place them at a strategic point coreward. And they will almost certainly strike at our weakest point, whatever that might be."

"Put aside all that you were taught at the Academy for a moment and try to think like a rebel. They want not only systems vital to their cause, but also symbols. Look at Brentaal in relation to the systems around it and tell me what you see that the Rebels would want."

Halix pondered a moment and then snapped his fingers. "Kuat!"

"Wrong!" said the other man, his voice full of sting. "Kuat takes them further away from the Core; it is also one of the most heavily fortified systems we have. Think!"

Halix looked around some more, this time more towards the Core, and then smiled as he spotted the system. He hit a key and brought it up on the display. "Here."

"Right you are. Inform the director immediately."

"Sir." He walked away, grinning. Finally, a chance to show I'm worth something to the higher-ups.

[Pilot's Briefing Room, Maria, Alderaan System, 0608 Hours]

Corben looked around the room as officers from all branches continued to file in. He saw a couple of Intelligence liaison officers chatting between them and several pilots swapping stories about common dogfights. Many could not find seats and were forced to stand around the edges of the large room. Finally Corben's attache gave him a thumbs-up signal and closed the doors. He cleared his throat and hit a switch on his board, darkening the rest of the room while leaving him and the briefing holo in a spotlight. "Thank you all for coming; I apologize for the seating arrangements, but seeing as how this briefing will encompass almost all commands from all units in this system, this is the only facility large enough to accommodate everyone--though perhaps not comfortably."

"For those of you who do not know me, I am Vice Admiral Corben Ull, commander Third Fleet. I've been put in charge of this operation, and I will expect all of you to obey my orders." Ull cleared his throat again and hit another button on the controls of his board. A blue and green world with six red wedges in orbit around it appeared above the projector. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is Chandrila. Many of you know it as the birthplace of Mon Mothma, president pro-tem of the New Republic. Just before his attempted defection, Sate Pestage ordered six Imperial Star Destroyers of both Mark I and II type to blockade it. This is a symbolic world to our cause, as it is the home of our president and a step closer to the Core. But, other than that, its strategic value is minimal."

"Excuse me, sir," commented a female Twi'lek, "but if it's not of any real value, why are we assaulting it?"

Corben couldn't resist a grin. "I never said we were." He touched another button and the holographic was replaced with an image of a darker and colder looking world with several round dots in orbit around it. "This is Anaxes, once known as the Defender of the Core. In the days of the Old Republic, it was the main staging and operations base for the Fleet. After the end of the Clone Wars and the rise of the Empire, it was reduced to a reserve fleet installation, but it can still provide orbital and surface supply and refit services. This, people, is what we will be assaulting. Or at least most of us will."

The Vice-Admiral brought the original holo of Chandrila back up next to Anaxes. "A small group of this fleet will make a feint at Chandrila. This will keep those Star Destroyers occupied and unable to respond to any distress call from Anaxes' garrison. We hope that we will be able to take Anaxes before additional forces can be sent from elsewhere. The attack groups will be broken down into specific fronts and then into individual units and assignments. My attache, Lieutenant Jos, will pass out datacards to each of you for you to peruse and decide upon your course of action, but please keep your decisions for action in the guidelines that I have given. I expect a full report and plan of action by tomorrow at eighteen hundred hours. Any questions?"

A young pilot in a blue flight jacket raised his hand. "Sir, what if this is a trap, like Endor?"

"The chances of that are virtually none; Intelligence reports that the Empire assumes our next strike will be against a major system, such as Kuat or Corellia. This will come as a complete surprise to them. Any others? No? All right, dismissed."

[Imperial Palace, Imperial City, Coruscant System, 1109 Hours]

"Forces have been moved towards Corulag, it's only a jump away from the target zone. They've been ordered to stay on the far side of the system so as not to be picked up by any probes or recon flights that the Rebels might have in the area."

Halix nodded at his assistant and looked at the strategic holo-map in front of him. "Are we positive that there's no way they know we're coming for them?"

"Absolutely. There's no way to know, we're in safe and tight."

"I'll wait to make that assessment until after we've made the ambush."

[Command Staff Briefing Room, Morning Star, Alderaan System, 1403 Hours]

Ru'kaart looked at the three men and two woman looking back at him, their attention completely focused as he sat down at the table and pulled in his chair. "Okay, then, let's get started. We've all had chance to look over the operation plan that the admiral has given us. And while I know what we have to do, I'd like to hear what your personal opinions and suggestions are. Colonel Nosnern?"

The short woman with the fire in her eyes placed her hands on the table. "I've been ordered to dispatch at least two of my three battalions for an assault on the ground forces headquarters planetside. After going through the numbers I've come to the conclusion that the entire regiment is needed to help with the assault. They have a dug-in position and could give us a very hard fight. It may be a reserve base, but Imperial troops have a nasty habit of being very vicious and coordinated. We'll all go in, except for a single company left over to act up as clean up and reserve should anything go wrong."

"Good, I like it. Captain Kitz?"

The young woman with her shining blue eyes and purplish skin took a slow breath before letting it out. "I've gone over all of the intelligence reports and reconnaissance data that I was given and have made notes on all the holes I can find in the plan. I've passed them along to each of you as well as the admiral. That's all I'm really able to do at this point."

"You did well, Captain. Don't let yourself think otherwise." He shifted in his chair and stared directly at his first officer sitting across from him at the end of the table. "Commander Abodar?"

"Personally, I think this is a foolish idea. Our resources would be better used on a more vital objective."

"We have our orders, Commander; there is little else we can do. Now, what are your suggestions?"

"Well, from a tactical point of view it's a sound plan; we assault a world that will not give us much trouble while tying up the nearest world that could send reinforcements. There's no world nearer than Chandrila that could send forces to stop us before we have secured Anaxes." He breathed in a deep sigh. "However, I don't like that we're being sent to Chandrila as part of the diversionary force. We're one of the newest cruisers in the fleet and could add a significant punch to the battle."

"We're also one of the only cruisers to have a flight of B-wings aboard. Blue Squadron's heavy firepower is needed in order to make the diversion look good." Ru'kaart turned towards the young Alderaanian in the room. "Speaking of Blue, congratulations on your promotion, Colonel Healey. Any ideas you would like to give for the assault?"

"Well, I say we go ahead and hit those Star Destroyers like we mean it. Turn this into an actual assault rather than a feint. If we do it just right, we might even be able to take out all six ships and secure the system as a secondary objective. At the least, we'll give them a convincing show."

"That might tie us up if we need to jump out to help secure Anaxes, but I'll keep it under advisement when I speak to Admiral Ull. Colonel St. Clair?"

"I'll be scrambling all pilots in X-wings and A-wings with full loadouts. The A-wings escort Blue in on their attack and the rest of us provide general suppression and area security. SOP for the most part." Zoom checked his datapad. "I've done a little research on our opposition. One of those ISDs has the One-Fifty-Second fighter wing attached to it. They're good for Imps, with high kill ratios and pilot survival. They're my biggest worry, as a pilot."

"Which ship are they based on?"

"The Conductor, an Impstar Deuce."

Ru'kaart turned towards Kitz. "Make sure that the first target we hit is the Conductor, and see to it that we coordinate our strike with the other units assigned to this force."

"Aye, sir."

"Now, let's move on to the strike itself." He hit a button on the conference table and a small holomap flickered into existence above it. "According to the attack plan, aside from us and the Regis, we have six other ships helping with the assault. An assault frigate, the Stormhawk; a carrier, the Jewel; a Carrack-class cruiser, the Proclamation; two gunships, the Justice and the Compassion; and our old friend the Summer. They should give us sufficient support and resources to stage our assault, maybe even pull off a 'win' if Colonel Healey has his way. Ull has put me in overall command of this phase of the operation, which I will admit is a surprise; I guess someone up high likes me." He gave a wan smile and then pointed to the holomap in front of him. "The six Star Destroyers are placed strategically throughout the system; three are patrolling the outer part of the system, one is in a synchronous orbit alongside Chandrila's orbital facility, and the remaining two are in high orbit to interdict traffic in and out. While spreading out makes good for enforcing a blockade, it leaves them vulnerable to a focused and coordinated attack. Also, we need to figure out which one of them is the Conductor."

"I'll volunteer for that mission, Captain," said St.Clair. "I'll take an A-wing on a recon sweep. Once I locate the Deuce, I'll transmit the location and then join up with the rest of the A-wings and fly escort for Blue."

Ru'kaart thought about it for a few moments, his mind working over the risks involved and the chances of St.Clair surviving should he be discovered. "You realize that you'll be alone, with no wingmen and no other assets nearby should something happen."

Red Leader nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir. That's why I'm the one for this mission. I can't ask any of my people to do it, or even to volunteer. 'Sides, I've got lots of time in A-wings. I'll be okay."

The older man nodded briefly. "Very well. Are there any other things to go over? No? Then we'll meet back here after Ull has made his final decisions and recommendations."

[Ull's Personal Quarters, Maria, Alderaan System, 0100 Hours]

Corben scratched his head as he sat back in his recycled ejection seat, a sheet of flimsi in his hands. The recommendations that the unit commanders had submitted looked good, and he saw very little that he didn't take into consideration when he finished planning the final assault moves. They would depart for deep space just short of the Corulag system so as to avoid any surveillance in the area; from there, the main force would jump to Anaxes while the diversionary force would wait a little while and then jump to Chandrila for a time-on-target strike.

Of course, there would still be countless hours of training and going over the briefings and so on. Intelligence had found old blueprints of the Anaxes base from archives, but the Empire had no doubt refurbished it since they rose to power. He sorely pitied the soldiers who would be going into those buildings without reliable intelligence, but there was no way around it. He just had to trust in the abilities of General Ivlen and her knack for surviving total outweighing odds.

He put down the flimsi and ran his fingers through his bright red hair, suppressing a deep yawn. It was well past the time he usually went to sleep, but the planning for all the operation had taken up a lot of his time lately. They would jump in a matter of hours; he had wanted to spend more than just a week training and prepare for the operation, but speed and time were of the essence. In a conventional operation he would have had up to a month to prepare, but, war had a tendency to speed things up, and the galaxy had been at war for years now.

Sometimes it seems as though the galaxy has been at war since the introduction of the hyperdrive.

Everyone was ready--as ready as they were going to be--and the ships were spread throughout the asteroids in predetermined holding patterns, clumped together in the task forces that they were assigned to for the operation, and even facing the correct entry vectors to hyperspace. All he had to do was give the word and they'd be off to Corulag.

He had almost dozed off in his chair when a warning klaxon began to sound in the background. Snapping to attention immediately, his senses taking over, he reached for his desk and hit the comm button. "Ull to Bridge, what's going on?"

"Admiral!" came the raised voice of Captain Ucdare, the Maria's commanding officer. "A CAP flight from the Lexzi was jumped by some Skipray Blastboats with Imperial IFFs. They're running, sir!"

Corben pulled on his uniform jacket and rushed out the door while still buttoning it up. "They may be a random patrol, or they may be a recon flight; New Republic forces are known to frequent the Graveyard. Alert all commands; have them stop those blastboats if they come upon them, but do not break formation. We don't want the Imperials catching us out of position."

"Aye, sir!"

Corben stepped into the nearest lift, now talking only to himself. "So far, all they know is that they've stumbled across some of our fighters. If we chase them all over the Graveyard and they still get away, they'll know we have a much larger force here."

[Jak Uv's A-wing, Space, Alderaan System, 0113 Hours]

"They're out of range of my missiles! Bantha Two, Bantha Three, bracket them in; Bantha Four, change your ELS so you can shoot ahead and cut them off, but keep track of your shields."

"Copy, Bantha Leader."

Jak was already at full throttle and an ELS setting of 25/25, but the lead that the Skiprays had on his flight was just too great. Shunting all remaining laser power into the shields, he reset his ELS to 0/0 and slalomed between the huge floating rocks that were all that remained of peaceful Alderaan.

"Four to Leader, they're too far out, I'll never reach them in time before I run out of charge."

"Sith! Anyone able to get to them in time?"

"Leader, Three, I'm moving in at top speed, but it's hard not to--AHHHHHHH!!"

A distant and tiny star exploded somewhere ahead of Jak and the blip that registered Bantha Three winked out of existence. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, shaking away the grief that started to overtake him. He opened his eyes just in time to avoid the same fate himself, veering sharply right out of the path of another tumbling boulder. "Four, the cluster of asteroids that they're heading for, is there anyone else near it or in their path?"

"Confirmed, Leader. The diversionary force is forming up over there; the closest ship is the Morning Star."

"Alright, get in touch with the Star and let them know they need to get their fighters out before they have company."

[Portside Hanger Bay, Morning Side, Alderaan System, 0120 Hours]

"Scramble, scramble! All Red pilots to your fighters!"

As those words blared from the speakers overhead, Rob Baden ran towards his A-wing, his helmet tucked under his arm as he was pulling on his gloves and attaching the cables of his suit's life-support system. As his feet hit the bottom stairs of the short ladder, he plunked his helmet on his head and hoisted himself inside the small cockpit. He did his quick pre-flight check and gave a thumbs up to Yak'ney just as the canopy sealed. "Red Nine to Flight Control, two engines green and lit."

"Copy that, Nine, you're in the line and good to go."

Rob pushed his throttle to full thrust and jetted out through the containment field and into space, his computer systems already picking up the telemetry from Bantha Squadron. "This is Nine to Squadron, I've spotted the Skiprays, they'll be in range within thirty seconds."

"Understood, Nine," came the voice of Kelly St.Clair, his A-wing dashing out just behind Rob's. "Alright, Reds, form up here and get ready to light them up. As soon as those Skiprays come through here I want them gone. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" came a flurry of replies as the rest of the A-wings came into position, staying idle with their engines on and their weapons hot.

A few seconds later four Skipray blastboats flew past the New Republic fighters at top speed, the red illumination of laser fire and the trails of concussion missiles following them. Three of the four Skiprays were destroyed but the fourth was able to slip the kill zone and continue on.

"Stop that ship!" came Kelly's voice over Rob's headset speaker.

Rob was doing his best to catch up with the Imperial gunboat, as was everyone else, but it seemed that they'd had some modifications to their engines. "He's too fast!" He checked his CMD and saw that the ship was close to a hyperspace entry vector. "Leader, Nine, he's gonna jump!"

Suddenly the Skipray blew apart, its ventral fin spinning off into space along with many much smaller pieces. As the fireball cleared, it revealed the shapes of two X-wings with Blue stripes. "Someone order a debris field?" came the calm and serene voice of Sean Healey. Flying up and over the cruiser from their hangar on the far side, they had arrived just in time.

Grinning to himself, Rob swung his fighter around and made for the cetacean bulk of the Morning Star. "Leader, Nine, last Imp is dust, courtesy of Blues One and Two."

"I copy, Nine. Leader to Red Group, good job. Head back to the barn."

[Main Bridge, Maria, Alderaan System, 0125 Hours]

"Morning Star reports that all Imperial fighters have been destroyed, Admiral."

Corben nodded slowly as he paced the bridge, turning to look at the Mon Calamari captain in the command chair. "Send word to all commands: move out at once."

"But, sir, it's ahead of schedule. We're not ready--"

The Vice Admiral walked over to the command chair and stared at Ucdare. "There are two possibilities concerning those blastboats: either they were a random patrol sent to the Graveyard to see if they could catch some smugglers, pirates, or rebels, or they were sent specifically to locate us."

"But I thought this operation was secure."

"No secret is secure if more than one person knows it. And there are a lot more than just one person who knows about this operation." He shook his head and then nodded towards the viewport. "No, Captain, we need to get moving immediately. Whoever sent those fighters will come looking for them when they don't report in, and we want to be well underway when that happens."

"Aye-aye, sir. Helm, get us on an entry vector. Communications, tell the other ships to start their engines and make for the rendevous point."

[Space, The Graveyard, Alderaan System, 0135 Hours]

The various ships of the New Republic fleet moved towards their entry vectors, a few starfighters on escort duty. In a matter of minutes they all entered the void, winking out of existence as they passed the speed of light.

The lone Imperial probe, after confirming it was now alone in the asteroid field, extended its long-range communications array and began sending a transmission towards Coruscant.

[Imperail Palace, Imperial City, Coruscant System, 0248 Hours]

Halix looked over the report from the probe and smiled to himself. His sending the Skipray flight into the Graveyard as a diversion proved to be effective, keeping the real surveillance hidden from the Rebels. They had jumped to lightspeed immediately after destroying the Skiprays, pushing their timetable forward and, hopefully, reducing their efficiency.

He consulted another report and was pleased to see that all of the ships dispatched to Corulag had arrived and were prepared to jump out again at the first word of the Rebel attack. He was sure they would be more than adequate to deal with the fleet the probe had observed.

[The Fishtank, Morning Star, Deep Space, 1708 Hours]

Sean sat as his usual table, sipping his caf, and looking out at the stars. A few minutes ago, the shimmering blue veil of hyperspace had parted to reveal them, shining like diamond dust on a sea of black. He enjoyed the peaceful quiet, however temporary it might be, as he had very little of it these days. Since his promotion his free time had all but evaporated like water on the Tatooine sands.

"Nice shot this morning, Colonel."

He looked up and saw Elise Nosnern in her combat fatigues, her expression saying that she'd rather be kicking some serious Imperial stormtrooper rear then sitting on her own rear waiting. Considering that the dirt-fighters hadn't had much in the way of combat since being quartered aboard the cruiser Sean couldn't really blame her. "Colonel," he said, pulling back into his chair as he straightened up. "Care to take a seat? It's free."

"Nothing in life is ever really free, you know." She pulled out the chair in front of her and sat down, her feet resting on the edge of the table. "Shouldn't you be going over combat tactics with your squadron?"

"And shouldn't you be going over entrenchment ideas with your regiment?"

She gave a rueful smile, acknowledging the point, then crossed her arms over her chest and nodded towards the viewport. "I'd rather watch that."

"No, you'd rather march into the Imperial Palace and see if you can persuade Iceheart to nicely turn over command of the Empire to the New Republic. As well as break things; repeatedly." He sipped his caf again and turned to the viewport. "I, however, do enjoy looking at the stars, and they look so much more majestic from this vantage point then from that of a cockpit."

"They do look nice, but you're right about me wanting to introduce Isard to my blaster muzzle." She gave another smile, one that sent chills down Sean's back. "I think I could, how did you put it, 'persuade' her to be reasonable."

"Can I buy you a drink, ma'am?" asked Sean as he took another sip of the Force-awful caf in his mug.

"Nah, I don't like to have stimulants just before an assault landing." She seemed as though she was going to say more, but her comm-link started beeping. She fished it out of her pocket and flicked it on. "Nosnern."

"Major Brans here, Colonel. The Admiral's given the word, we're heading out onto the assault shuttles."

"On my way." She flicked it off and put it back in her pocket. "Well, Colonel, it seems as though my ride's ready. Good luck to you."

"And to you."

[Portside Hanger Bay, Morning Star, Deep Space, 1808 Hours]

Kelly walked towards his A-wing, noticing the other eleven pilots of his unit doing walk-arounds on their fighters. A full-out assault on an Imperial-held world was not something that the pilots of Red did often. We'll be lucky if we survive this.

Any assault, even a successful one, had some casualties in equipment and personnel. So far most of Red's losses had been equipment, but Kelly knew that one of these days the numbers would catch up to them. To him, quite possibly. He was already older than the average pilot. Maybe this would be the mission...

Pappy was finishing up some minor tinkering on his fighter as Kelly walked up to it, his hands black and rough from his work. "You're all geared up and ready to go, Colonel. I made sure that you were fully loaded with missiles in case you ran into trouble, but I wouldn't rely on them too much."

"Thanks, Pappy," he said as he climbed up the short ladder and pulled himself into the cramped cockpit, pulling on his helmet and adjusting his headset. "I'll try to bring her back to you in one piece."

"Yeah, you always say that..." Pappy scoffed. "But somehow you always manage to get banged up, and guess who has to hammer out the dents and patch the holes? I should start charging you fly-boys for the way you treat my starfighters." He shook his head sadly, causing Kelly to grin as the canopy swung down. Pappy stepped back and raised a hand to his own headset, his grumbling now coming directly to Kelly's ear. "Of course, if I did that, I'd have more money than I'd know what to do with."

Kelly chuckled and gave the older man a thumbs-up, then toggled his comms over to the flight control channel. "Morning Star Control, this is Red Leader with two engines green and ready to launch."

"Roger that, Red Leader, you are one in the slot and good to go."

Kelly lifted his fighter off the deck on repulsors, the landing gear automatically retracting into its belly as he slowly maneuvered it onto the open flight deck. "Acknowledged, Leader is in the slot." Taking a deep breath, he went to full throttle and sped out of the hanger bay, his ion engines nearly scorching the deck under him. "Leader has cleared the bay."

"Acknowledged, Leader. Good hunting, and may the Force be with you."

Kelly pulled back on the flight stick and brought the A-wing into corkscrew turn, becoming parallel to the Morning Star and the rest of the task force. "Red Leader on final approach to hyperspace vector."

"Understood, Leader," came the voice of Captain Ru'kaart. "Be careful out there."

"You know it, sir." Kelly rested his hand over the hyperdrive lever, watching a number reel down on his CMD. When it hit zero, he pulled back on the lever and streaked into the blue-white cascade of hyperspace, leaving behind the eight starships and their fighter escort.

[Main Bridge, Conductor, Chandrila System, 1827 Hours]

Captain Foste paced around the command walkway, his hands behind his back in a tight military fashion. Frequently he would look out the forward viewport and see the distant world of Chandrila, the tiny grey arrowhead of another Star Destroyer visible against the planet. What a pathetic world this is, he thought as he paced back towards the security operations console, trying to hide his impatience from his crew. The Conductor had been assigned to this world as a reprisal against Mon Mothma's involvement in the Rebellion, but the system was worthless in terms of strategic value and materials. It served only to be a thorn in the side of the Rebels and their leaders. Foste would much rather be pursuing military objectives. Such a waste.

"Captain," came the voice of his sensor officer, "new contact, thirty klicks out relative towards Coruscant. It's not broadcasting IFF and I can't resolve it. It might be an error, or something with a sensor jammer."

"Boost the power to the sensor grid to get a clear profile." Foste walked over to the starboard walkway and looked down into the operations pit at the sensor station. "And alert the rest of the task force as to the possibility of a enemy contact." He turned to look at the communications station at the end of the command walkway. "If we do not get a target profile within thirty seconds, open a channel and request identification."

"Aye, sir."

"Sir." Commander Jalito, his first officer, spoke up. "Should we launch fighters, as a precautionary measure?"

"Negative, not yet. Let's see what we're dealing with first. Sensors, what do you have?

"Got it now, sir. A-wing interceptor... must be a Rebel probe, sir."

"Go to full alert and man all battle stations." Foste turned to his communications officer once again. "Send to the rest of the task force: 'Rebel fighter has been detected in system, go to full alert.'"

"Aye, sir."

[Kelly St.Clair's A-wing, Space, Chandrila System, 1840 Hours]

Kelly let his engines idle as he ran a full sensor sweep of the area. Being so far out, he wouldn't be able to read more than size and any transponder signals they were broadcasting, but that was all that he needed for this mission. The third ship he scanned was the Conductor. He whooped and immediately locked it in as Target One, then spoke into his mike. "Snoop One to Nest, over."

"This is Nest," came Jack Uoart's voice, "reading you faint but clear."

"Nest, have positive ID of target, repeat, positive ID. Transmitting encoded coordinates now, over." He hit a switch on his board which automatically sent the coordinates from his targeting computer.

A few moments went by and then the voice of Ru'kaart came over his headset speakers. "Snoop One, we are leaving now. Prepare to make a micro-jump the moment we appear, over."

"Copy that, Nest, I'll be waiting. Snoop One out." Kelly pulled back on his control stick and flipped the A-wing over in a stationary loop, throttling back up to full. He put another twenty klicks between himself and the Conductor before slowing to a crawl and turning to face the distant wedge again. Moments later, almost as if the Force directed the flow of time, eight starships appeared in formation around the Star Destroyer.

Now for the really tricky part. The A-wing's small navicomputer didn't have the processing power or data storage to plot an interstellar jump on its own--that's why they were loaded with precalculated hyperspace courses before each mission, with the computer making only minor adjustments to the entry time and vector. But a short jump of less than a hundred kilometers was well within its capabilities... as long as nothing happened to be occupying his exit point. Heck of a way to go. Well, nothing for it but to roll the dice one more time.

Rather than reaching for the hyperdrive lever again, Kelly pushed a button on his console; the rest was automatic. From his perspective, the stars stretched toward him and almost instantly receded, leaving him right in the middle of a lightfight. Instead of white starlines, red and green turbolaser fire surrounded him as the capital ships began to exchange fire.

Kelly shivered and whispered thanks to the Force as he banked toward the already familiar shape of the Morning Star and switched his communications over to the squadron frequency. "Red Leader to Red Squadron. A-wings, form up on me and Blue. X-wings, watch for enemy fighters. May the Force be with you." Red and white wedges were beginning to emerge from the cruiser's hangars, as were grey bars that unfolded into crosses. "Red Lead to Blue Lead."

Sean's voice crackled over the speakers, his tone all business. "I copy you, Zoom. We're ready for first strike; I'll take the first group in while groups two and three await their turn. Request one A-wing to help escort us in."

"Understood. Seven, head out with Blue Flight One for their run at the Conductor. Be sure to keep their sky clear of fighters and interceptors."

"On it," Doellefeld acknowledged as his A-wing pulled away to take up position with the X-wing and two Y-wings a few meters away.

Magill's voice crackled over the speakers as Kelly watched the five starfighters head in towards the Imperial starship. "Lead, I've got a question."

"Go ahead, Two."

"Why haven't they launched fighters yet? This is the Conductor after all, home of the One-Fifty-Second. Shouldn't they have at least launched one flight by now?"

"I concur with Two, Lead," pipped in the voice of Chelsey Maxfield. "This doesn't seem right."

"I agree, let me look into it." Kelly switched over to the command frequency. "Red Lead to Star, I need to talk to the captain immediately."

In a few moments the voice of Ru'kaart came back over the speakers. "What is it, Colonel?"

"Sir, I have a bad feeling that we're being set up. They haven't launched any fighters yet, and none of the other starships have done anything. It's not looking right."

"Stand by, Red Lead."

[Main Bridge, Morning Star, Chandrila System, 1855 Hours]

"Tactical analysis, Lieutenant Juv'lea," said Ru'kaart as he turned away from the communications station. "Is there any indication that they're launching fighters?"

"Negative, Captain, but sensor reports do show that their bays are full and ready to open, they just haven't done so yet."

Ru'kaart frowned and turned towards the viewport, the illumination of the battle-readiness lights making the bridge seem more of a blood red than it's normal white. "What is going on here?"

"Sir!" came the excited voice of Juv'lea. "I'm picking up new contacts exiting hyperspace! Two Interdictor cruisers, one Imperial, three Victories, and two modified frigates."

"We're in trouble," commented Abodar from behind Ru'kaart.

"Uoart," said the captain as he settled into his command chair, his face twisting in a frown when he looked over at the communications station. "Contact the main attack force, tell them we've got a serious situation here."

The older man shook his head and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I can't get through, Captain, there's a powerful jamming field in place around us. We can't call for help."

"Let me reiterate," said Abodar. "We're in trouble."

[Main Bridge, Maria, Anaxes System, 1907 Hours]

Corben watched tensely as the Third Fleet approached the orbiting shipyards and defenses. Everything was as it should be, except... they were short one Star Destroyer. He frowned and turned to his intelligence and liaison officer, who was large even by Wookiee standards. "Colonel, I thought the information that was provided was less than a week old."

"Wrrrrraaaaaar!"

"I'm not blaming you, I just want to know where that missing Star Destroyer is!" Musing his hair with his hand he turned back to the viewport and watched as the first wave of starships moved in at flank speed. "It might mean we're facing a third less opposition, or something much worse. Stop yelling and find out where it went."

"Raaaaaaaaaaar!"

"I don't care! Find out for me."

With a final grumble, the large Wookiee shuffled through the doorway of the bridge. Corben turned back to watching the tactical readouts update on the sensor boards. The first wave was meeting the expected level of resistence as starfighters from the two remaining Star Destroyers poured out into the combat zone and the Golan Defense Platforms began to fire and launch their own fighter screen. There were explosions in the midst of the fighting, tiny at this distance. Once both sides were thoroughly engaged, Corben turned to his communications officer. "Send the signal."

"Aye, sir."

A few moments later a few medium sized green blips and several smaller ones appeared on the tactical screens on the far side of Anaxes Prime. They immediately started heading towards the planet and Corben knew that the first phase of the operation was working out well.

"Sir," came his communications officer, "the base is trying to send out a priority distress signal."

"Jam it! We don't want help showing up too soon, before we've secured a foothold on Anaxes Prime."

"Sir!"

Corben turned his attention once more to the tactical screens as the small green blips disappeared into the orbital plane of the planet. The battle on the ground was Ivlen's responsibility; this was his.

[Cargo/Troop Hold, Savior One, Anaxes System, 1920 Hours]

Major General Yuwe Ivlen, commander of the Second Army, walked back and forth from one end of the cargo hold to the other, her combat gear moving lightly on her long and lean backside. Her blaster rifle was nestled in her arms tightly, almost as if it was her most precious possession, while she reviewed the faces of her troops and the heavy mechanized hardware behind them..

"We're hitting dirt in a few minutes, so I want all of you to stick tight. Keep within assigned units unless I or another superior tells you to disperse. These may not be the best that the Empire has to offer, but they still know how to kick our sorry rears if we get sloppy and overconfident."

"General! The pilot says we're entering the atmosphere now and we'll be over the drop zone shortly."

"Good! Tell all units to man their landing and jump stations!" She turned back to the troops gathered around her and raised her voice. "You heard me, dirt kickers! Move it! Get to your stations! Move, move, move!"

The soldiers started to move to their assigned stations as the tall woman moved towards the deployment doors of the cargo hold. Checking to make sure her charge was full, she settled the rifle into her hands, her mind focusing on the offensive to come. She herself hated violence, wished that the galaxy could come to terms in a peaceful fashion. However, her artificial leg was evidence that some did not share that wish.

"The Pathfinders and commandos are ready, General," reported a lieutenant, who couldn't have been more than nineteen and looked younger. Ivlen shook her head. Are we recruiting children now? "Very good, send the word; drop now."

[Central Operations Control, Anaxes Prime, Anaxes System, 1912 Hours]

"General, we're picking faint contacts in the lower stratosphere. We can't be sure what they are at this point, but I don't think they're ours."

"Thank you, sensor officer!" spat Jusiv Yass. "I could walk outside right now blindfolded and be able to tell you that they're not our forces. We're under attack! Of course there's going to be contacts that aren't from our side."

"Eh, yessir!"

Yass scowled at the man and walked away. "Inform the orbital shipyards that we will need air cover as soon as possible."

"They say they're pretty tied up with the advance Rebel fleet, sir. They can't spare even a flight of TIEs to help us out."

Yass slammed his fist against the bulkhead behind him. "As if TIEs would do any good in the atmosphere. Tell them to send a squadron of Gunboats immediately, and don't take no for an answer."

[Operations, Anaxes Orbital Shipyard, Anaxes System, 1920 Hours]

"He said what?"

The young ensign looked up at his commanding officer and swallowed before replying. "To send a squadron of Gunboats immediately for air support, no matter what the situation is up here."

Captain Usei Tasts stared at the ensign for a moment, his jaw working, before he answered. "Give no reply."

"But, sir! Our base will be overrun by the Rebels. That must have been their goal from the start."

"Are you a tactical analyst now, Ensign?" The young officer flinched and turned back to his station. Tasts sighed--losing his temper would do none of them any good now--and put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to reassure the man. "It's all right. Just stay focused on your job."

"Eh, yes sir." The ensign sat up a bit straighter and began to coordinate the transmissions of the naval forces assigned to the shipyard. A moment later, however, he turned back to look at Tasts. "But, sir, what about the base?"

"Ensign, they're going to be overrun no matter what we do. But the Rebels don't want the planetary garrison, they want the shipyards." He turned back towards the tactical screens and watched as a squadron of Rebel starfighters broke through their frontline defenses. "Alert in sector Four-Alpha. Coordinate with local command to cover the sector before those Rebels take advantage of the situation."

"At once, sir."

Tasts looked at the tactical display of the situation on the ground and shook his head. The frontline was composed of mostly Stormtrooper units and light weapon platforms, not enough punch to stop a heavy ground assault. He might be a naval officer, but he could tell that the base commander was making several vital mistakes in the defense of his command. "Any change in the distress signal?"

"Negative, sir," the ensign said with a frown. "The Rebels have a very strong jamming device somewhere in their fleet. I can't pinpoint where it's at, but it's powerful."

Tasts frowned to match him. "I don't like this; the Rebels were supposed to hit Chandrila, not here."

[Main Bridge, Conductor, Chandrila System, 1938 Hours]

Foste scowled down at his tactical officer. "Has someone found out for me the reason why there's only eight ships? I was told to expect three times as many."

"Negative, sir," the woman replied. "However, the ships we are facing do match the ones observed at Alderaan, including the Morning Star."

"Well, that's something. What's our status?"

"We're holding our own, though we did take several torpedo hits. Shields are at 62 percent. The Tempest has micro-jumped to our position while the rest of the picket fleet has kept their original courses and assignments. Scans indicate that the smaller Rebel ships are taking massive damage."

"Excellent. Launch the One-Fifty-Second." He turned to his helm and weapons officers. "Helm, move us in at one-eighth sublight speed along the cruiser's port flank. Weapons, focus all port batteries on that cruiser's drive section; I want it disabled, but not destroyed." By the time they acknowledged the orders, he was already moving to his communications officer. "Get me Colonel Buntt." A few moments later the image of a lean man in his forties appeared on the monitor, dozens of stormtroopers marching in the background. "Colonel, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir. Just give the word."

"The word will be given shortly; be sure you're there to get it."

"Sir!" He snapped off a salute as the monitor went blank.

"Captain," the tactical officer announced, "the One-Fifty-Second has engaged the Rebels."

[Rob Baden's X-wing, Contested Space, Chandrila System, 1950 Hours]

"New contacts bearing One-Nine-Nine mark Two, two klicks out," came Kelly's voice. "Repeat, new contacts bearing One-Nine-Nine mark Two, two klicks out."

Rob pulled back on his flight stick as he followed Sazril into a high climb to avoid entering the field of fire. He checked his sensors and noticed a flight of TIE Fighters breaking off from the new contacts. "Thirteen, Nine, flight of eyes coming in on my low five."

"I copy, Nine, level out and hang loose." Sazril's X-wing continued to climb, taking up a position "over" and slightly ahead of Rob's fighter. "On my mark, Nine, spray fire into their field of vision."

"Make it quick, Thirteen, range is one point one klicks and closing fast." His finger rested against the fire button, eager to let loose and blind some eyes. "Point nine and closing, Thirteen!"

"Fire!"

The two X-wings opened fire and a spray of red lasers flew into the path of the oncoming TIEs. Two of the fighters came apart as the deadly firestorm blew off their panels; the remaining two spun out of the way to avoid the lasers, the X-wings flying past them. "Two blind, two in need of being poked out."

"Such a way with words, Biggs."

"I try, Yale."

"Don't try too hard, we've still got these two Sithies to take out." His X-wing looped around to follow the TIEs, Rob's own fighter following close behind. "Stay sharp, the sky's starting to get pretty crowded out here."

Rob checked his sensors and gave a low whistle at the flood of red. "What is it that Intelligence said about this being a low-hit raid? These guys were expecting us!"

"Leave it to the analysts, Biggs."

Rob scoffed and trained his attention back to the two TIEs in front of them. "They've got a jump on us, Thirteen. Reset ELS to double zero to catch up, but watch the shield status."

"Sounds good, Nine, resetting." A moment later the two X-wings began to move at a faster velocity, the distance between them and the TIEs closing slowly. "Point nine one to targets and dropping. Stand by for quad fire, transfer power at the last moment."

"Copy." There was a few seconds of nothing but the hum of his engines and the translation beeps from Torch, the counter on his monitor showing the TIE's distance he had targeted dropping steadily until he was within point five kilometers of the Imperial starfighter. "Point four nine klicks."

"Fire!" came Sazril's voice as a quad set of lasers lashed out at the TIE he was tracking. Rob in turned fire his own, transfering shield power to maximum for his lasers. Sazril's target blew apart, but Rob's was able to evade the attack.

"Mine's still blinking, Thirteen, back me up." Resetting his ELS to standard, Rob changed his fire to dual and began to spray the small area of space with red lasers until finally he scored a hit on the port stabilizer panel. "Bracket him in, bracket him in."

"I'm on it, Nine."

Rob continued to fire at the target while Sazril's own lasers joined in. Finally both sets of fire paths converged, hitting the cockpit of the TIE within milliseconds of one another. "Local space is clear," said Rob. "Searching for new targets."

"Not like you have to look real hard."

Rob checked his scope and noticed that the Conductor was getting awfully close to the Star. That's strange, they've moving in without any support. He clicked his comm channel over to the main frequency and tapped his microphone once. "Morning Star Control, this is Red Nine."

"Star Control here, Red Nine, keep it short," came Ru'kaart's voice.

"Sir, you might want to check your sensors; that Impstar is almost point-blank."

"We're aware of the problem, Lieutenant, and we have it under control, please return to your duties. Star Control, out."

Rob frowned and returned to searching for more targets. Sithing fleeties. His sensors flashed a warning signal about the arrival of a new contacts coming from his relative aft. "Twelve, Nine."

"Go ahead Nine."

"Captain, we've got a mass of incoming bearing Three-Three-One mark Two. I count twelve squints, repeat, one two squints, coming from the Tempest. And one of those B2s is moving up on the Regis' flank."

"Understood. Flight Three, regroup at Three-Three-One mark Zero and form up. We're going to take a crack at those squints."

Sazril banked hard to port and Rob followed him in a tight turn, keeping on his tail. It wasn't long before two other X-wings came up alongside them as they headed for the rendevous point, the fighters forming into a standard "V" configuration. The red dots on Rob's forward scope began to get brighter and brighter as they neared the coordinates.

"Bandits at twelve o'clock high; I don't think they've seen us yet," said Sazril over the comm line. "Four-flight formation in "Vertical Triangle" configuration; not even a standard formation, typical of a backwater commander."

"Stay loose, Thirteen," said Chelsey. "These may be blockade units, but you don't get to be a TIE pilot by being sloppy in the cockpit. Split up and each take a triangle; be careful, though, to avoid any direct head-to-head, I have more important things to do than attend your funerals."

"I feel the love," commented Rob under his breath.

"Say again, Nine?"

"Uh, nothing, Twelve."

"That's what I thought. Okay, Flight Three, heat 'em up and make 'em count; break and attack!"

[Main Bridge, Morning Star, Chandrila System, 2013 Hours]

Juv'lea looked as his monitors and cursed to himself in Bothan as he analyzed the movements of the Conductor. He wasn't sure what was going on; a Star Destroyer rarely entered the fray until after the target was softened up by its support units and fighter screen. Its job was to be a mobile base of operations, a command center; while it did have the firepower to render a ship the size of the Morning Star a piece of melted slag, the match was too even and would probably result in the Star Destroyer also being crippled.

But on the Conductor came, and Juv'lea did not understand why. Flanking cannon fire was beginning to slash through the shields, but they weren't aimed at any vital system, just the engines. Normally an Imperial ship would try to destroy them outright; this slow approach was gnawing away at his mind. Sith, he just didn't understand it.

"Lieutenant, status report," came Ru'kaart's voice in front of him.

The Bothan scanned the monitors again and shook his head. "The Summer is taking massive damage; half her engines are out of commission and she's moved to where the Stormhawk can cover her. Regis is holding her own for the most part, but it was never meant to be a front line vessel. One of the gunships was blown apart by heavy bombardment from those Star Destroyers. We've lost the Jewel and her hulk is making it difficult for the larger ships to maneuver. We've also lost some fighters that were attached to the Jewel, but that's it... for the moment."

"Enemy's situation?"

"Conductor is moving in close on our port. The Tempest has moved in close to provide rear-guard support for the operation and Red Squadron's Flight Three is engaging their fighter cover. One of the enemy frigates' drive section is on fire; it's starting to spin counterclockwise, but is still able to inflict damage. Other than that, and a few dozen TIEs, the other forces are intact."

"This is a disaster," commented the Mon Calamarian beside Ru'kaart. "Intelligence really botched this one."

"Calm down, Commander. You can have a nice long talk with General Cracken... after we survive."

"Yes, sir."

[Main Hanger Bay, Conductor, Chandrila System, 2020 Hours]

Colonel Ronald Buntt stood in the troop compartment of the assault transport closest to the magnetic field, twin columns of Stormtroopers lining the bulkheads. He had just sealed the hatch when the secondary comm panel began to beep. He touched a button and the face of the Conductor's captain appeared on the tiny screen. "Sir."

"We're well within range; launch your forces immediately."

"At once, sir!" He snapped off a sharp salute, then closed the connection and switched to intercom. "We've been given the go-ahead, Lieutenant. Lift off and signal the other transports to do likewise."

[Main Birdge, Morning Star, Chandrila System, 2025 Hours]

Juv'lea cursed loudly in Bothan as finally understood the concept behind the Conductor's onslaught. "Captain!"

Ru'kaart looked up from his command chair and after he saw the look on Juv'lea's face he walked over to the console. "What is it?"

"That Star Destroyer intends to disable our engines." He touched the monitor to his right and a structural schematic of the Morning Star appeared. "They're pouring all of their fire into our aft quarter. So far our shields are holding... but if they come down, the Conductor can follow up with an ion barrage, or just keep firing until our engines are slag."

Ru'kaart was about to say something when a red light began to flash on one of the tactical monitors. Juv'lea raised a hand to his bridge officer's headset. "We're picking up new contacts; several assault transports, fully loaded no doubt. They're heading for our drive section. Captain, I think they intend to board us."

Ru'kaart cursed. "Find where they're headed and coordinate with security."

"Captain, ship's security doesn't have the training or firepower to go up against Stormtroopers. They were supposed to be reinforced by Army troops--"

"Who are busy elsewhere right now. Do you have any other suggestions, Lieutenant?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Didn't think so. Now get to it."

[Engineering, Morning Star, Chandrila System, 2032 Hours]

Alecia Vinie clutched the blaster rifle tightly in her hands as she and her team moved towards the bulkhead closest to the hull. Motioning to the nearby engineering staff to evacuate, the Twi'lek took up a position behind a hyperdrive readout station, instructing her fellow security personnel to spread out in order to cover the bulkhead.

Scans indicated that one of the assault transports was making way for this particular area, and only moments ago they had heard the sounds of it attaching to the outer hull. Checking the charge on her power pack once again, she aimed her weapon at the bulkhead, waiting for the Imperial troopers to make their move.

A sudden explosion from her far right threw her onto her back, chunks of bulkhead flying through the air. Alecia pulled herself back to her feet and shook herself into focus, grabbing the fallen rifle next to her. She turned back to aim at the place she was pointed at before, but the huge hole she was expecting wasn't there.

A blaster bolt shot past her head and she ducked back behind a nearby console, scanning the engineering room to find out where it came from. Finally she spotted several white figures exiting a huge hole a good length down the bulkhead from her current position; she cursed under her breath and made a mental note to talk to Juv'lea about his coordinating tactics later.

"Fall back!" she yelled to her fellow security personnel, firing off a few rounds at the Stormtroopers as they poured through the opening. Another explosion, this time much closer to her, threw her against the doorway. Luckily the door was already open as the engineering staff were still evacuating.

Once again she picked herself up, glad she was able to keep hold of her rifle this time. "Secure the corridor!" she shouted, scrambling back to the T-intersection. The remaining engineering staff was already circling the corner to the left while the rest of her forces took cover around the right. "We have to hold this position, no matter what; if they get past us we'll never be able to stop them!"

"Got it!" yelled a young woman.

"Team One to Bridge," she yelled into her commlink. "Repeat, Team One to Bridge, come in Bridge!"

"Team One, Bridge, what is your status?" Uoart answered calmly.

"Our 'status' is one of bantha droppings! We need more people down here, and on the double!"

"We're trying our best, Lieutenant, but we've got breaches all along the drive section."

"I don't care if you have to give blasters to the medical droids, we meed people down here immediately! I've got two breaches in main engineering and all the nice little Stormies with their nice little blaster rifles that go along with those holes. So just get me some reinforcements. Now!" She switched off angrily and let her collar fall back into place.

"Chief!" whispered one of her team members. "I've got movement at twelve o'clock, about four, four point five meters."

Alecia turned around cautiously and peered down the corridor. There. She saw several white figures moving against the gray of the walls, along with a couple of figures in olive green battle gear. Officers.

She turned around again and searched her team. "Ilse, move up," she said to a man in his late teens. He did as ordered, eyes wide and clutching his heavy blaster rifle tightly. "When I say go," she said softly, "target the officer on the right, I'll handle the one on the left." As he nodded to her she raised her voice a fraction to be heard by her team members on the other side of the hall. "Neins, Olic, pump fire into the center of those stormies. Hose 'em good, then pick off the stragglers; aim for the black, for the joints." There was no argument; everyone on her team knew how dangerous and ruthless Imperial stormtroopers could be, some of them firsthand.

Alecia took a deep breath and leaned a little more around the corner, sighting on her target. He seemed to be giving deployment orders to the troopers around him, completely unaware that he was about to die. "Go," she murmured, and squeezed her trigger.

[Central Operations Control, Anaxes Prime, Anaxes System, 2041 Hours]

Yass wiped at his forehead, his sleeve coming away sticky with blood that mixed with his sweat. He stepped away from the sparking and smoking console and demanded, "What just hit us!?"

"Proton torpedo, ground-based launcher. Our sky is clear of enemy starfighters."

Yass swore. "Any response from the orbital facility on our request for air support?"

"Negative, sir. I think they're ignoring us."

"If I survive this, someone is going to die." He dabbed at his forehead again and turned to the tactical station. "Status report."

"Our front line in sectors One and Four has been overrun by Rebel heavy armor: Yutrane-Tackata T3-Bs. They're advancing on our inner line. Sectors Two, Three, and Five are under attack by combat infantry and light armor." The tactical officer looked like he could use another set of eyes and at least two more hands. "Ah... we have some reports of Rebel transports overhead and what may be commando activity, but can't confirm any of those at this time.

"Tell the inner line to stop those tanks, no matter what. Put internal security on alert. Any unauthorized personnel are to be challenged and, if they do not answer, fired upon. Even if they look like civilians... hell, especially if they look like civilians."

"Yes, sir."

"Torpedo incoming!" the operations controller shouted.

"Take cover!" Yass ordered, looking for something sturdy to hide under.

[Contested Battlefield, Anaxes Prime, Anaxes System, 2049 Hours]

Elise ran forward through the oncoming fire, her E-11 tucked close against her body. She took cover behind a wrecked AT-ST, peering past the twisted metal, then turning and waving the rest of her squad up. Some of them didn't make it; she saw one soldier get cut down by a red bolt, jerking and then falling to the gravel slope like a puppet with cut strings. She shut her eyes and forced herself not to feel. Grieve later. When she opened them again, a Bothan face was looking at her.

"They've got the high ground pretty well covered, Colonel. Elements of the Twentieth Regiment are moving upwards. One of our spotters has located the General's forces; they've broken through the front lines and are moving in towards the inner defenses."

"Good. Move First and Second Battalions forward on the Twentieth's right flank, and have Third Battalion reassemble here into platoons and move upward in a rapid flanking maneuver. They're to lay down heavy suppression fire, but to not get pinned down; hit and move on, hit and move on. Order First Company to stay back; under no circumstances are they to engage until either I or the General gives the order. Understood, Major?"

"Understood!" He snapped off a quick salute and hustled back downhill as Elise and the remaining members of her squad provided covering fire. Return fire from the Imperial position at the top of the hill sizzled against the armor of the AT-ST and sent hot gravel flying past her face. The Major reached the bottom of the slope safely and waved to her. She waved back, then turned to the rest of her squad.

"Anyone got any grenades left? No? Okay... looks like we have to take them out the hard way." Elise sighed and gripped her rifle tighter. "Move out!"

[Main Bridge, Maria, Anaxes System, 2100 Hours]

Corben checked the chronometer and frowned. It had been almost two hours since the start of the operation, over two hours since the start of the diversionary strike at Chandrila. The battle seemed to be going as well as could be expected, in space and on the ground, but the fact that the Morning Star and her flotilla had not yet made contact bothered him.

"Mwaaaaaar!"

Corben spun around as Elebacca appeared on the bridge, his frame almost entirely filling the doorway. "Say that again?!" the vice admiral shouted back, not trusting his ears or his command of Shyriwook. Elebacca obliged with a longer and carefully enunciated series of moans and barks.

"Well, that's just great! No wonder we're doing so well here!" Corben turned to his communications officer. "Open a secure channel to the Morning Star immediately."

The Calamari's webbed fingers moved over her console for several seconds before she shook her head. "Admiral, I can't get through. Heavy jamming at their end."

"That cinches it," Corben said with a nod to the Wookiee. "We're going to have a long talk after this is over, Colonel, because I am not happy about the intelligence that was provided." He rose from his seat and moved quickly to the tactical station, leaning over the man's shoulder. "Commander, how much longer before we've secured the orbital facilities and the garrison?"

The tactical officer considered his readouts. "No more than thirty minutes for the ground base; slightly ahead of our original estimates. Whoever's leading those Imperial troops down there isn't doing a very good job."

Corben nodded in satisfaction. "Whereas Ivlen is a fine commander. What about us?"

"Without that third Star Destroyer, they're just plain outmatched. We've destroyed Subjugator and as you can see, Dominator has lost shields and is trying to withdraw. We've also destroyed both of the strike cruisers and neutralized the Golan platforms, and over half of the enemy starfighters have been disabled or destroyed. Dominator isn't recovering hers--looks like they're trying to cover her retreat--but even so... fifteen, twenty minutes until the system is under our operational control."

"Excellent. Our losses?"

The other man frowned and checked his monitors again. "We've lost three ships in the engagement: a frigate, a gunship, and our support cruiser, the Mon Alla. Almost a third of our starfighters have been destroyed; no word yet on how many of those pilots ejected and survived. But it could have been worse."

"Yes, it could have been. All right, keep me informed."

"Aye-aye, sir."

Corben turned to look out the panoramic viewport at the battle. Distant motes darted among the stars like angry insects, red and green and blue light flickering between them. He saw an explosion and wondered if it had been a New Republic fighter or an Imperial one. What does it really matter? In war, people die on both sides. War isn't selective.

[Engineering Corridor "A", Morning Star, Chandrila System, 2109 Hours]

Alecia screamed and fell backwards as a red-hot hammer hit her in the shoulder. Hissing a Twi'lek curse between her teeth, she clutched at the smoking wound and then used her good arm to push and pull herself to her feet, leaning against the wall. Looking around for her rifle, she realized that it had fallen right in the middle of the corridor. With all the blaster fire coming from Engineering, it might as well be a light-year away.

"Here," came a voice from behind her.

Alecia whirled, lekku trailing behind her, instinctively taking a defensive stance. That was a mistake; the pain hit her again, and she almost blacked out. Steady hands caught her and kept her from falling.

"Be careful now."

Alecia blinked away the tears that had sprung to her eyes and tried to focus on the figure before her: a blonde human in civilian clothes. A familiar face... "Dargon? What are you doing here?"

"Well, the ship's on alert, so I'm not able to tend bar at the moment. I was getting kind of bored, so I thought I would come help out." When he was sure she could stand on her own, he drew a DL-44 from the gunbelt draped over his shoulder and offered it to her. "Here."

She winced a little as she took the large blaster pistol, noting that another was tucked into the front of his trousers. "Thanks. Now, what are you doing here again?"

"I want to help."

She smiled grimly and pointed him towards the corridor's opening towards engineering. "Try to keep them pinned down. And don't get shot."

"Good advice."

She was about to say something else when the comm-link clipped to her collar beeped for attention. Moving with great care, she thumbed it on. "Vinie, Team One, go."

"Team One, this is Black Box."

Alecia blinked. Black Box was the codename of the support staff for Nosnern's regiment: a couple of dozen people, including the regimental chaplain and the combat instructors. Since the operation was not supposed to take very long, they had been left behind on the ship. "I read you, Black Box, go ahead."

"We're in position to give you some, ah, covering fire. Look along the wall to your right... and don't freak out."

Despite the warning, Alecia felt a thrill of fear when she saw the steady red dot of a sniper's targeting laser less than a meter from her head. She swallowed and spoke into the comm-link again. "I think I see what you mean. We could have used you sooner." She looked around; of her original twenty-five, not including Dargon, only about ten were left.

"Had to help cover the auxiliary engine room, Lieutenant, sorry. I suggest you stop firing and pull back, let them advance into the intersection. My partner and I will pick off the leaders, then you open fire and we'll catch them in a crossfire."

"Sounds good. We'll get in position. Team One out." Alecia turned and gave a tight smile to Dargon. He nodded and then, before she could stop him, darted out into the intersection. Blaster bolts sought him, but he tucked into a smuggler's roll and came up on the other side untouched. Alecia let out the breath she'd been holding, shook her head, and snapped off a few blind shots around the corner while he explained the plan to her people on that side. He soon gave her the "all clear" signal.

Showtime, Alecia thought, raising her voice to a panicked yell. "Fall back! We can't hold them, everyone fall back!" The rest of her security team stopped firing and retreated down the corridor to the next corner, where they set themselves in ambush. Alecia found an open equipment locker to duck into, out of the line of fire. A few more blaster bolts flew down the corridor, further pitting the charred ruin of the wall... then all was silent. She heard muffled shouts, then approaching footfalls. She tried to hunch further into the locker, gasping as her still-tender wound announced itself again.

Stormtroopers filled the T intersection, pointing their blasters warily down both side corridors. Close behind them came other men in dark Imperial uniforms. Alecia felt her blood freeze as an advancing stormtrooper looked right at her. He stopped, started to raise his rifle--and his head exploded.

As if the clatter of body and weapon falling to the deck was the agreed-upon signal, the intersection was suddenly filled with a web of deadly light. The stormtroopers did not retreat back up the corridor, but held their ground and returned fire. And to a man, in the next sixty seconds, they died.

Alecia emerged from her hiding place and surveyed the carnage while her comrades moved back up to their former positions. White-armored bodies were piled high in the intersection. "The rest of them ran back that way," Dargon said, waving his blaster's muzzle toward Engineering. No fire came from that direction now.

The sound of footsteps from behind her spooked her for a moment before she remembered that it was the two soldiers moving up from their sniping positions. She turned around and saw one of them holding a small silver ball in his hand. It took her all of a second to piece together what was going on and she looked at him in surprise before shouting "Fire in the hole!" to her teammates.

Everyone moved back as the soldier finished his jog to the intersection and threw the thermal detonator down the corridor, a perfect fastball pitch. There were a couple of screams as it bounced into the midst of the Imperials and then a loud explosion drowned out everything.

It's okay, Alecia thought desperately, covering her ears with both hands. They know what they're doing, and besides, everything important in Engineering is armored... right?

Indeed, there were no more explosions; just the brief hooting of a fire alarm and the sound of extinguishers going off somewhere. She took her hands from her ears and coughed. The air, already hazy from all the blaster fire, was now positively smoky. Too bad all the breather masks are in there, Alecia thought. She was about to order some of her team to move up when a cry came from Engineering:

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire! We give up!"

"Throw out your weapons!" she replied hoarsely. Many blaster pistols and rifles were thrown into the corridor, and even a couple of vibroblades joined the pile. Alecia eyed the small arsenal but neither she nor any of her team approached it, in case any of the weapons were booby-trapped.

"Stand up and come out one by one, hands on your head and in plain sight of everyone. If I even think you're trying to pull something I'm going to shoot first and not bother trying to make it look like an accident, you understand? Now come out!"

One by one they emerged, officers, commandos and regular Army troopers. All were much the worse for wear; some were bloody, others burned, and a few had broken limbs (or were very good at faking). All in all, some thirty Imperial soldiers wound up standing in the passageway, favoring their wounds and looking nervously at the security team that had them covered from every angle.

Alecia nodded at one of the Black Box team and then tilted her head towards the engineering section. "Check it out to make sure no one's still in there, but be careful."

"Ma'am!" said the soldier as she jogged down the heavily damaged deck and into the compartment. She returned only a minute later. "Place is clear, Chief. Nothing but two sealed hull breaches, a bunch of dead Imps and security personnel, and a whole lot of slightly-scorched equipment."

"Good." Alecia turned to the captured Imperials and singled out the senior surviving officer, a lieutenant. "Who sealed the holes?"

"We did," the officer said. He didn't look like an enemy anymore, just a scared young man. "Once we finished unloading, the transports were going to head back to our ship. We had to seal it up or else we'd all be sucked into space."

"Okay." She transferred her blaster to her off hand and reached for her commlink. "Team One to Bridge."

"Go ahead, Team One," Uoart's disturbingly calm voice replied.

"We have secured Main Engineering and have taken thirty, repeat, three oh prisoners, over."

"Understood, Team One, we'll send someone down as soon as we can to handle the prisoners, we're still pretty well tied up throughout the drive section."

"Understood, Bridge, Team One out." Alecia looked over to the middle-aged man in NR combat fatigues, noting the captain's pips on his rank plaque. "Not that I'm not happy for the assist, sir, but could you have given me a little more warning when you pulled out that thermal?"

"Er, sorry about that, Lieutenant."

"Well," commented Dargon, whom Alecia had forgotten about. "It's too bad this isn't the Fishtank, because I feel like a drink."

[Kelly St.Clair's A-wing, Contested Space, Chandrila System, 2120 Hours]

Zoom tapped the side of his helmet. "Can you please repeat that, Captain Daly? Your last transmission was garbled."

The voice of his old ship commander spoke again, slightly tinny as always but clearer now. "We're getting hit hard by torpedos and we need some fighter cover."

Kelly pulled back hard on his flight stick, climbing above a flurry of green fire from an oncoming flight of TIEs. "I'd love to help, Captain, but we're spread pretty thin out here."

"That's why I want your permission to launch the trainees."

"You're kidding, right?" Kelly replied, snapping off a missed shot at one of the T/Fs as it passed below him. "Sir... they're not combat-ready. Sending them into a fight like this sound be murder."

"I don't intend to have them engage fighters, Red Leader. Just knock out some torpedoes so that our gunners can concentrate on the bombers."

Kelly uttered a grunt of satisfaction as the TIE he'd been chasing exploded, one solar panel spinning away from the fireball. "Okay, fine. Tell them to stay close and be careful not to hit the Regis while shooting down torps. And if I catch any of them going after fighter kills, they won't have to worry about the Imps... got me?"

"I'll pass it along. Daly out."

Kelly was already lining up on his next target.

[Central Operations Control, Anaxes Prime, Anaxes System, 2121 Hours]

Another explosion, the biggest and closest yet, tore through the operations center. Yass was knocked flat on his back, ears ringing. As he attempted to rise, he saw that the security door had been blown inward and Rebel troops were now entering the room. There was blaster fire from off to his right as some of his staff mounted a last defense against the invaders. One of the Rebels fell before the others sought cover and returned fire.

Yass struggled to his feet, pulling himself up by the nearest console and vaguely noting the man slumped over it with shrapnel sticking out of his back. He fumbled at his hip, but his holster was empty. No telling where his sidearm had gone.

"Stop right there!" came a yell from the direction of the Rebel soldiers. One of them had his blaster rifle trained on Yass and was slowly moving forward.

Yass bolted for the other exit, the Rebel's shot pinging off the frame of the door behind him as he ducked out of the command center and ran down the corridor. The garrison was lost, but he could still escape from these scum...

"Hold it right there!" came another shout in front of him.

Yass skidded to a halt at the sight of half a dozen Rebel commandos in field gear running towards him. He turned and saw that two more Rebels, one of them the one who'd ordered him to stop, had cut off his retreat. "You're surrounded," the same man now said, stating the obvious. "Surrender now and no harm will come to you."

Seeing no way to avoid it, Yass stood up straight and put his hands over his head. He frowned as two of the commandos approached with their weapons trained on him. He knew what would happen once they got him back to their interrogators.

One of the commandos stood back, keeping his carbine trained on Yass, while the other moved in to search him for weapons or other hidden objects. Yass suddenly burst into motion, kicking the blaster out of his guard's hands, then snapping the other man's neck with a quick and brutal twist. He caught the carbine as it came down and fired several shots at the other four commandos before the soldiers behind him opened fire.

Despite the burning pain in his back, Yass still managed a ghastly grin of triumph. He wasn't going to be interrogated... and he wasn't going alone.

I still win.

Darkness took him.

[Main Bridge, Maria, Anaxes System, 2130 Hours]

"Report from the surface, Admiral. The planetary garrison is secure. All remaining Imperial ground forces have surrendered."

"Excellent," said Corben. Sitting down in the command chair he turned to look at the communications station. "Redeploy our pickets to cover the area. Order the capital ships to form up on the Maria, and recover as many of our fighters as we can. We're heading out immediately."

"Aye-aye, sir. Destination?"

"Chandrila."

[Steve Michadick's B-wing, Morning Star Starboard Hanger Bay, Chandrila System, 2139 Hours]

"You're rearmed, Captain. Be sure to take down some big boys for us!"

"Roger that. Control, this is Blue Five, ready for lift-off."

"Understood, Five, you are granted permission to lift-off. Good hunting to you."

Steve cut in his repulsorlift engines and let the B-wing lift itself up off the deck. Once he had achieved enough altitude he throttled up and flew out of the hanger, flicking the switch that extended his S-foils as soon as he'd exited the magcon field.

"Hey! Watch it next time!" came the voice of Frask Yak'ney over Steve's headset.

"Sorry about that, Chief!" He pulled back on the flight stick and brought the cross-shaped fighter-bomber up and over the Morning Star's bow. "Blue Five calling Flight Three, come in Flight Three." Three acknowledgments followed shortly. "Good. Listen up, we're the only ones who have been able to rearm, and we're also the only ones close enough to the Conductor to make any kind of dent whatsoever. We're going to take out their shields on the first pass and then see how much damage we can do. Understood?"

Mike Michadick, Steve's brother and wingmate, spoke up. "Hey... I know these B-wings are better than Y-wings in pretty much every way, but we're still just four starfighters. How can we do that much damage?"

"Taking out capital ships is what the B-wing was built for. The Star will be firing all her batteries that bear on the ImpStar to try and take some of the heat off us. With their added firepower, we should be able to destroy the Conductor or at the very least put it out of commission. Now form up, and let's take out that ship!"

[Main Bridge, Conductor, Chandrila System, 2149 Hours]

"Captain, we're under attack!"

Foste scowled at his tactical officer as the deck rocked. "So I discern from the explosions, Lieutenant!"

"We've just lost half our shields, sir! They've taken out the starboard shield generator!"

Foste shook his head. "'No, we don't need to design a better shielding system," he said mockingly, echoing the official KDY report. "We just need to upgrade our existing system. We're sure the Rebels won't continue to exploit the design flaw.' What idiots!"

Another impact rocked the ship and Foste had to hold on to a console edge to keep from falling. A warning klaxon began to sound throughout the bridge. Foste didn't have to look at the tactical screens to know the shield status had gone completely to zero. "Recall all fighters from combat! Helm, set course for the nearest Interdictor and move us in at top flank speed!"

"We only have one Interdictor left, sir! The Rebels have taken out the Order."

"Then that makes your task that much easier, doesn't it? Communications, contact the captain of that Interdictor and tell them that they're about to have some company along with all the Rebel fighters following us. We need them to keep them off us so we can micro-jump to Chandrila!"

"Captain," came the voice of the Flight Control Officer, Ensign Vereas. "There's no way we can recover all our fighters in that amount of time; they're spread all across the engagement zone, it's just impossible!"

"Then we leave them and hope that they can get a ride on another ship, or make it to Chandrila on their own. We cannot remain here!" As if to accent his point, the ship began to shudder again from a sustained barrage.

"Sir, fore and port guns from the Morning Star are hitting our centerline, and torpedoes from Rebel fighters are impacting on all points across the hull! Our structural integrity just dropped to eighty-two percent in the last thirty seconds!"

"Forget the recall, just get some fighters over here to take out those Rebels!"

"Incoming torpedoes!"

Foste turned and looked out the bank of viewports at the end of the command walkway. He could see three Rebel B-wings breaking off their attack run as defensive fire from the Conductor started to rake across their shields, but more importantly, he could see the blue tracks of at least six torpedoes heading straight for the bridge tower.

Such a waste.

[Main Bridge, Morning Star, Chandrila System, 2159 Hours]

Ru'kaart held his breath as the bridge tower of the Conductor was consumed in flame, explosions punching all the way out the back side. The crippled vessel, venting atmosphere from other wounds along its length, began to spin out of control. Unfortunately, it was turning in the direction of the Morning Star.

"Helm, change course to Three-Three-Five Mark Seven, flank speed. Weapons, put as much fire into that hulk as possible. Blow it up before it hits us." He turned to his flight control officer. "Get me Blue Flight Three."

It was only a moment before a new voice spoke on the bridge. "Blue Five here, Star."

"Captain," said Ru'kaart with almost eerie calmness. "You're our interception team for the moment; what the gunners can't knock down, you're to take out. Just be careful not to get caught in the crossfire. I'd hate to have to write an after-action report stating you died."

"Understood, sir, we're on our way."

"Distress call from the Summer, sir! She's caught in the Conductor's engine wash and her shields are failing."

"Can they still maneuver?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then tell them they're going to have to wait, we've got to get clear of that spinning rock before it blindsides us." Turbolaser fire was now pouring into the Conductor's unshielded flank, melting metal and touching off secondary explosions. Escape pods scattered from the relatively intact areas. "Tactical, fleet status."

"We've lost the second gunship, as well as several of the fighters attached to the Jewel. The Proclamation is under heavy fire and I don't think it can hold out much longer. Stormhawk reports fires in engineering, under control for the moment. As for the Imperials, one of the Interdictors is gone, but the second has taken up position behind the Tempest and the other ImpStar. Both of the enemy frigates have been destroyed. And one of the Victory-class Star Destroyers is at seventy percent shields."

"Uoart, what's the situation on our intruders?"

"Security personnel have taken over three hundred prisoners and have contained the remaining Imperial boarders in the mess hall. There are reports of massive damage throughout the rear end of the ship, sir, but we're lucky that our engines haven't been tampered with. Engineering staff believes that we will still be able to go to hyperspace once the interdiction field is gone."

"The problem being how we are going to get that field down."

The battered remains of the Conductor chose that moment to explode, the shockwave from the Star Destroyer's immolation rocking the Morning Star like heavy seas as fighter-sized fragments bounced off the shields. One less problem, at least, Ru'kaart thought.

"Sir, I have five new contacts bearing One-Five-Seven Mark One!"

"That's right behind the Interdictor; Imperial reinforcements?"

Juv'lea was silent for a moment and then a smile appeared on his face. "No, sir! I'm reading the Maria as well as two assault frigates, a Nebulon-B2 modified frigate, and a gunship!"

Ru'kaart smiled broadly. "Uoart, get me the Admiral."

"He's already hailing us, sir."

"Captain Ru'kaart."

"Admiral, good to hear your voice. How did you get in so close to the Interdictor, sir? They have their gravwells on, after all."

"Yes, but that cuts both ways, doesn't it? We let them pull us out of hyperspace right on top of them. I don't think they were intending to hook a fish this big. Their mistake."

Ru'kaart chuckled and nodded. The Vice Admiral was simplifying for modesty's sake; emerging on the enemy's rear flank like that was a feat of precise astrogation, tactical skill, and educated guesswork.

"In any case, sorry for the delay. We weren't aware of your situation until my Intelligence officer discovered that the Star Destroyer that was missing at Anaxes had been reordered to stage just outside this system."

"So that's why there were so many ships here. But how did they find out about the mission?"

"There will be plenty of time to discuss that later, Captain. Right now we're going to get you out of here. Recall all fighters and prepare to jump to Anaxes. We'll take care of the Interdictor. Maria out."

Ru'kaart began giving orders as soon as the Admiral closed transmission. "Uoart, recall all fighters and inform those that are unable to return within three minutes to set hyperspace course for Anaxes. And patch me in to the rest of the task force."

A few moments went by and the older man's voice spoke up clearly. "You're on, sir."

Ru'kaart cleared his throat and sat straighter in his command chair. "Even as I speak, the new arrivals from the main portion of the Third Fleet are wreaking havoc on the remaining Interdictor. Once the field is gone, we are going to enter hyperspace and rendevous at Anaxes. I know some of you were hoping to be able to liberate Chandrila, but even before the arrival of the additional Imperial forces that task was a hard one. One day we will be able to break the blockade that the Empire has imposed upon this world... but not today."

He closed his eyes. "Some of you have lost friends today, and some of you may not want to retreat. But I assure you, their sacrifice has not been in vain. Our mission here was a success, and Anaxes, the Defender of the Core, is now in the hands of the New Republic."

Ru'kaart opened his eyes and then turned to face Uoart who was looking at him. "Once more, I would like to extend my thanks to you for your abilities and sacrifices today. That is all." He gave a wave to the Alderaanian, ending the fleetwide address. Turning to Juv'lea he asked," situation?"

"The Interdictor's taking a pounding, sir. Shields have fallen to ten percent while our forces have taken little damage. Hang on a moment sir... looks like the Imperials are reinforcing the Interdictor; both the remaining ImpStars are turning about to engage our forces."

"How long until the Interdictor is neutralized?"

"Any minute now, sir. They... yes, there, they've shut off their gravity generators to divert power to the shields. It won't be enough, though. Shields at fifteen percent... seven... shields down." The next salvo carved tracks of fire along the cruiser's sides. "Hull integrity at ninety percent... eighty-five... they're moving. Hull at seventy percent. Accelerating." The Bothan was silent for a moment. "They just entered hyperspace, heading relative towards Chandrila."

"Well, it's not as good as destroying it, but it's better than nothing. Communications, inform all ships and fighters to enter hyperspace immediately. Helm, engage the hyperdrive."

"Aye-aye, sir," came answers from both Uoart and the young man at the helm.

A few moments later, the huge Mon Calamari ship entered hyperspace while the remnants of its task force followed shortly behind.

[Imperial Palace, Imperial City, Coruscant System, 0908 Hours]

Halix Jove stood as still as he possibly could, not even daring to tremble. His immediate superior was standing beside him, although he didn't seem to be nervous at all; in fact, when Jove had looked at him when he first came in, the other agent seemed almost to be expecting this. Right then, he knew it in the pit of his stomach. I'm about to be sold out.

News of the debacle in Anaxes had reached him an hour ago, so he knew he was here to be reprimanded. In Imperial Intelligence, reprimands were usually severe and often fatal.

"I am not pleased," came a deep female voice from behind him. Sweat broke out on his brow and he swallowed, knowing that the speaker was one of the most powerful people in the Empire, not to mention vicious and brilliant. "This was supposed to be a simple ambush, a trap for some of their newer model cruisers. But rather than being destroyed, they've managed to take a critical system with minimal losses."

He heard footsteps behind him, walking around to the side, and then she entered his field of view. He had never met the Director in person, though he had seen holograms during his time in the Personnel department. They did not do justice to her beauty, or the unnerving effect of her mismatched eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul. He was instantly held by that piercing stare, like a small animal facing a predator.

"I would like an explanation, Agent Jove," Ysanne Isard declared. "Care to offer one?"

Somehow he remembered how to talk. "W-we believed, from the information we were able to obtain, that the Rebels would try to liberate Chandrila. We calculated the size of the force they would need and assembled a force of our own that should have been sufficient to destroy half of their ships outright and render the rest unfit for combat for at least three months."

"And who is this 'we,' Agent Jove?"

Halix swallowed hard and gazed sideways at his superior. Isard saw this and then stepped over to the other man. "Agent Ive."

"Madam Director."

"Is it true that you helped Agent Jove here plan and execute this operation?"

"No, Madam Director," Ive said with a straight face. "I did not."

Isard stepped back a moment and then looked at Halix again. "Are you aware that by letting Anaxes fall, you have allowed the Rebels to gain not only another staging point practically on our doorstep, but also the facilities to repair damaged ships here in the Core Worlds?"

"Ye-yes, Madam Director," stuttered Halix, the sweat running down his forehead freely now.

"Are you also aware that the person responsible for this blunder has earned the most severe penalty?"

Halix lowered his head, no longer to meet that pitiless gaze. "Yes. I am aware." He heard her steps as she walked around him again, the sound of a blaster sliding free of its holster, the click of a safety. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

The sound of the blaster shot was very loud in the small conference room. The thud that Ive's body made as it hit the floor was almost quiet by comparison. Halix's eyes popped open in surprise that he was not dead.

"I do not tolerate people who lie to me," said Isard from behind him.

"Y-yes, Madam Director!" Halix gasped, trying not to look at the large and smoking hole in the back of Ive's head.

"You're now promoted, Agent Jove, to Agent First Level. Don't disappoint me again, or else you'll end up like him." Her steps receded, passing through a door that swished open and shut, leaving him alone in the room with the body of his former superior.

Halix let out a shaky breath and allowed himself to relax from his posture of stiff attention. And I thought office work would be safer than being a field operative.

[The Fishtank, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 1908 Hours]

Alecia sat down at the table nearest the view ports and looked out at the stars. There was a new element to the view today: the angled girders of the repair yard, now in New Republic hands, where the Morning Star was getting her battle damage fixed. She smiled as she saw an X-wing fly by, waggling its S-foils at the cruiser.

"Now that's something I don't usually see," came a voice from behind her.

She turned and saw Jack Uoart standing behind her, a steaming mug of caf in his hand. "Commander! This is a surprise."

"Like that smile of yours?" Uoart sat down across from her and put the mug on the table. "You're always got some serious expression on your face."

"I'm a very serious person." She started to pick up her drink and winced.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just still recuperating. The droids fixed me up, but the nerves are still complaining." She carefully picked up the glass with her other hand and took a drink. "How's the ship? I wasn't able to attend the staff meeting, being dunked in bacta and all."

"Not as bad as it could have been, if you hadn't stopped those boarders before they were able to rig charges."

"Don't thank me," Alecia protested. "Thank my team, and those Army guys too. We couldn't have done it without them."

"Okay, noted. But it's still going to take at least a week to replace all the consoles and systems that were destroyed," Uoart continued. "The outer hull should be good as new in about ten days; we're having new hull sections shipped in from the Mon Calamari yards. If we just patched the holes, they might give way some time in the future. So since we're staying here for the moment to defend Anaxes against any Imperial counter-attack, we might as well take the time to do it right."

"Good. I could use a little time to relax."

"True. I don't feel like going into battle again; I hate battle."

"It seems as though all you Alderaanians do."

"Are you saying you enjoy battle, Lieutenant?"

Alecia shook her head and looked out the window again. "No; I hate it. But I am willing to fight for the future."

"As am I."

She took another sip of her glass as she watched the repair crews continue their work. Indeed, the future is worth fighting for.

The End