by Rob "Biggs" Baden

Chapter 1: Death Mark

Rob was sitting in the back of the Mug at his usual table, a large mug of Corellian Ale sitting in front of him. Across from his was Steve "Schmitty" Michadick, his expression cool and frosty, much like the drink he had. "So, of course I'm surprised," continued Steve with the story he'd been telling Rob. "It's not like I expected to be rescuing a pilot that was dead."

"Interesting," came the voice of the other man at the table. Sitting to Rob's right, and Steve's left, was Jeff "Knight" Gerlach, Rob's brother and long-standing friend. He'd joined the unit a few days ago and was immediately making himself at home. "Well, it's good that you got her out."

"Agreed," stated Rob. "With your arrival, Jeff, and Barros' graduation from the training wing, we're a full combat status unit. Something that's very rare in a front-line unit, right, Lieutenant?"

"Absolutely, Biggs." He downed the rest of his drink, some green concoction that Trixel made from him. "We've all see too many people buy the farm in this war."

"Well," broke in Rob. "We better hit the bunks, Michadick. We've got an early patrol in the morning." He downed the rest of his ale in one quick gulp and wiped his mouth with a hand, standing up as he did so. "Don't stay up too late, Jeff."

"Yes, ‘mother.'"

Rob and Steve walked out of the Mug, the trail of cheers and laughter fading as they made their way through the corridors of the Regis. It wasn't exactly long before they reached their stateroom, a small double with beds and meager space for each of their personals. Rob settled into his bed and within a few seconds fell into a deep sleep…

And awoke to the annoying sound of a buzzer. His eyes still groggy and full of sleep, Rob rolled out of bed and yawned, his arms stretching and trying to get the circulation of blood going again. He hit the alarm with the palm of his hand, making the consistent noise stop.

Steve wasn't much better. He's been on the Regis for a lot longer then Rob had, but he still had trouble getting up for the early morning patrols. He did, however, climb out of bed with a much better sense of grace. Before Rob could even say anything, Steve was on his way out the door, saying over his shoulder, "I get the refreasher first."

Rob bit back a retort as Steve left the stateroom. Every morning it was the same routine between the two of them, Steve always being the first into the refreasher. Rob just wanted to be able to beat him once, just once, but thus far he'd had not luck at it.

It didn't take Steve long, and once he was back Rob headed out to the refreasher. After he was finished he put on his black with gold striping flight suit and picked up his helmet, a standard fighter pilot's crash helmet painted in solid black with gold Alliance symbols on either temple. If Rob were allowed to he'd have his fighter painted the same way, but since all fighters represented the unit Red Squadron it was not possible.

Steve, of course, was already suited up and waiting on Rob. Once they were both ready they lightly jogged to the flight deck. Once there they found Pappy, the ship's chief mechanic, working on Rob's X-wing. "Hey, Pappy," shouted Rob. "What's with the work?"

"Oh, hey Biggs! Nothing much, just a minor flux that I wanted to tweak. You're all set to go. Just don't damage it."

"Of course not, Pappy. If I did that I'd know better never to return to ship, I wouldn't be able to survive facing the Imps and then you." Rob put on his helmet and gloves and climbed up into the cockpit of his fighter. Once he was sure all systems were functioning and in the green, Rob gave the signal for his tech to seal the canopy and withdraw all externals. "Nine to control, lit and ready."

"Copy that, Red Nine." Even though he was technically still inside the Regis, his communications sounded garbled. It was that way, really, because it made the Imps a lot harder to decode and analyze transmissions inbattle. "You're clear for lift off. Eight is on the deck."

"Acknowledged, Regis, Nine on the way." He hit the repulsors and gently lifted off the deck plates. After his landing gear retracted, Rob gently pushed his throttle forward and flew out of the hanger, the darkness of space taking hold of him. Moments later his wingmate, Steve, emerged from the hanger as well and took up position alongside Rob's fighter. "Status, Eight?"

"In the green and ready to fry. Imps, not myself that is."

"Well, it's always good to not fry yourself." Rob couldn't help but grin. "Assuming standard patrol position." He maneuvered his X-wing so that it was just aft of the Regis' engines, Steve forming up on the bow of the ship. They had the usual six-hour patrol. Kelly "Zoom" St. Clair, Red Squadron's commanding officer, designed it so that two-thirds of the unit flew a day, keeping up their piloting status and abilities while giving a third a day off so they could rest.

Nothing happened for the first five hours of their patrol. It was pretty boring, to tell the truth. The only excitement was when the Regis made a minor course correction to avoid an asteroid field.

"You know, Biggs," said Steve over the comm system. "It's at times like this that I wonder if I'm needed."

"Of course you're needed, Schmitty." Rob looked at his sensors for a moment, just checking to see if anything new had happened. "Without you I'd be billeted beside Pappy. So, you're needed for me to keep sane from his bagpipe playing."

"Har har, very funny." Steve went quiet for a moment then came back in almost an alarmed fashion. "Hey, Biggs, I'm picking up an unknown contact veering in from port, sector nine-nine-two-point-three. Can't make it out, but I think it's a long range shuttle."

"Let me see." Rob turned his HUD over to sensors and locked onto the target. "I'm reading it too, but I can't make it out."Regis Control, this is Patrol Flight, we're reading a small, unknown target entering the area off your port. Please give instructions." Rob waited patiently for the response from the Regis' captain, Gideon Daly. He didn't have long to wait.

"Better report it in." There was a brief pause and then Steve's voice came over the Regis's channel. "Regis Control, this is Patrol Flight, we're reading a small, unknown target entering the area off your port. Please give instructions."

"Control to Patrol Flight, try to get an identification. If they do not consent, box them in and tell them to leave the area immediately."

"Roger, Control," said Steve. "Okay, Biggs, would you like to do the honors?"

"Nah, you take it, Schmitty. If you foul and get demoted you still get to fly. I'll be out of the unit if I was demoted."

"Thank you, Biggs, I'll keep that in mind." There was a brief pause and then Steve's voice came in loud and clear on the public frequency. "This is Second Lieutenant Michadick of Red Squadron, New Republic to unidentified craft. You have entered a restricted zone and must verify your authorization for being here. Please respond."

There was a crackle of static and then a very low, gruff voice came over the speakers. "Ah, Red Squadron fighters, eh? Than I take it that the ship your are patrolling is the Regis, yes?"

Steve's annoyance was clear over the system. "Please state how you know of this ship, and please identify yourself immediately. This is your last chance. If you do not cooperate you will be considered hostile. Acknowledge immediately."

Obviously ignoring Steve's little threat, the gruff voice changed the subject to one that Rob was surprised to hear. "If this is the Regis, does that mean that Flight Officer Baden is there?"

Rob keyed his system calmly. "This is Flight Officer Baden. May I inquire as to how and why you have located me?"

"That is not important, Baden. Prepare to meet with vengence, yes?"

"Biggs, it's making a run for hyperspace."

"Oh, no it's not." Rob banked his fighter around and began to close the distance between him and the shuttle. Suddenly the shuttle lurched into hyperspace…and a flight of six R-41 Starchasers appeared in it's wake. Almost as if they were one they started opening fire on Rob's X-wing, his forward shields taking a pounding. "Uh…Schmitty, I could use a little help!"

"On it, Nine."

Rob banked his X-wing and spun, making a barrel roll. He turned the role into a ninety-degree decline downward and dove out of the mess he was in. He did a sharp upward incline and then leveled out, the Regis in his view. All throughout his moves the R-41s stayed with him. But that was what he wanted to happen.

In front of him, closing fast, was the silhouette of Steve's X-wing. "Ready to dive down on my mark, Biggs. I'll hit ‘em hard when they turn."

"As ordered, Eight." He waited until he thought he was going to ram into Steve and that's when he heard the "mark!" come over the comm. He veered down and saw the afterglow of a bright explosion a few moments later.

"Scratch two. They won't fall for that again, though."

"Agreed." He banked again as scarlet fire flew past him.

"Thanks, Eight." He brought his X-wing around and immediately found one of the R-41s in front of him. Without waiting he opened fire with a dumb fired torp, immediately taking it out. "That's one. We got two left. Should we vape ‘em?"

"Negative. Take out their hyperdrive so they can't escape. I want to know why they're trying to kill you, and I bet the colonel will want to know, too."

"Copy that." Rob switched over to his lasers and powered down the cycle so they wouldn't make too much damage. He goosed his throttle forward so that he could catch up with one of the remaining R-41s. As soon as he was within range he targeted the fighter and cycled its subsystems until he got to the hyperdrive. As soon as he was ready he opened fire and within moments the hyperdrive blew, stranding the vessel here. "Hostile fighter, power down your systems and prepare to be boarded. You can not escape and there is no sense is dying." He didn't hear anything for a long time and felt that he needed to give a reminder. He fired a single shot at the R-41. "Repeat, power down, there is no sense in throwing your life away."

"Acknowledged, New Republic fighter. Powering down systems." The small craft immediately shut down its engines and powered the weapons and shields down.

"Eight, Nine. My fighter's gone dark."

"Eight to Nine, my target made it to hyperspace."

"Well, at least we got one of them." Rob sat stationary behind the R-41. "Better call for a shuttle or transport to come and board this guy."

"Already working on it." There was a small pause again and then Steve's voice was loud and clear on the Regis frequency. "Control, this is Red Eight. We've got an unfriendly waiting for boarding, think you could send a shuttle our way?"

"We copy that, Eighty," came back the voice of Kristy McCall, the Regis' communications officer. "A shuttle is on the way."

[In the Regis' debriefing room]

Kelly St. Clair sat at the table, Neill Magill standing just behind and to his right. In front of him stood Steve Michadick and Rob Baden, Reds Eight and Nine respectively. They had just been involved in a small sortie outside the Regis and came up with the information that, apparently, someone was out to get Baden. "So, you really have no idea who would want to kill you?"

"Well," said Baden in a nonchalant voice. "I did have lower prices than my competitors."

Michadick gave a small chuckle, which he quickly repressed once he saw the expression on Kelly's face. Kelly turned his eyes straight towards Baden and just stared. "I am not amused." He picked up a datapad and waved it around. "Someone tried to kill one of my pilots deliberately and with a planned fashion. Now, I want to know why."

"To be honest, sir, I really do not know. I can't think of anyone who would wish me dead in such a fashion."

Kelly sighed and sat back. "Well, Faulkner's interrogating the prisoner now. Perhaps he'll find out something. In the meantime, you two, get some rest."

"Yes sir." They both saluted and walked out of the room leaving Kelly and his XO alone.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

It took a long time before Magill replied, his mind obviously trying to go over every angle of the situation. "I'm not sure, Zoom. Rob's a good man. A little secluded to everyone but Schmitty and his brother, but he's a good man. To be honest, I can't think of a reason why someone would want to kill him."

"Let's just hope that whatever the reason is, Neill, it's something that wcan be resolved quickly.

Chapter 2: Answers

[In the Regis' brig]

Gord Faulkner paced back and forth in front of the occupied cell. It had been several hours since the prisoner was brought in and he still was not cooperating. "Come on, who sent you, huh? Why are you after Baden? How did you find this location?" A moment later he took his right hand and made like he was going to hit him, but stopped at the last minute. "Answer me! Who sent you!"

The prisoner—a man in his late thirties with a scraggly-looking face and a scare over his right eye—looked at Gord and spit in his face. It took all of Gord's self control not to just crush his windpipe then and there, but he knew that the captain and St. Clair wanted him alive and spewing information.

"Major," called someone from outside. "The captain wants an update."

"Tell him it's going slow…real slow. But within two hours I'll have everything he needs to know." He cracked his knuckles and glared at the prisoner, his brown eyes shooting daggers that made the man cautiously scoot his chair back.

[In the Captain's Ready Room]

"Who?"

Kelly looked over to Daly, the captain's expression one of confusion and apprehension. Kelly's own expression looked very much the same. It had been almost twelve hours since the capture of the prisoner and they were just now getting information from him. Kelly knew that Faulkner had been the interrogator, and knew that he was a good one, but it was quite unusual for twelve hours to have gone by before getting results.

"Someone named Kohmin Dan, sir," said Faulkner. The look on his face was that of exhaustion, even for someone used to. "He's a small arms dealer out on the Rim, deals mostly with pirate and mercs. Has his own forces for protection; the group that attacked Officer Baden was part of them."

"Why," interrupted Kelly, "does Dan want Biggs dead? Something that he did when he was a supply runner for the Alliance?"

Faulkner shook his head. "I don't think so. Baden didn't know that many arms dealers even prior to the Alliance, and the only kind of supplies he delivered for after signing up was medical equipment, spare parts, and replacement pilots."

Kelly thought the matter over in his mind as Daly talked some more with the major. Suddenly he had an idea. "What if it's not Baden himself that Dan is really after? What if it's the Baden name?"

"I don't quite follow you, Colonel," stated Daly.

"What if a family member of Biggs' did something to Dan, gave him a bad deal or something? And Dan can't locate that person, but found his closest living relative, Biggs?" He sat up and looked at the other two. "What if he's out to kill Biggs as a sort of payback for what happened to him weeks, months, even years ago?"

"But why would they wait so long to act on their vengeance? Surely Baden would have been easier to hurt prior to his joining the Alliance." Daly was sitting straight up now, his attention focused on what Kelly had been saying.

"And more the point," stated Faulkner, "he'd be easier to locate."

"Vengeance is a very powerful motive, Captain. It's also a pretty good life-extension prospect. If a person hates someone so much that their continued existence is only so that they can find a way to extract that hate, why, a person could stay alive for a long time, planning, conspiring. Maybe Dan thought that he had the perfect opportunity to get in good with the Empire while riding himself of Baden."

"Interesting hypothesis, Colonel." Daly got up from his desk and walked around to where Faulkner and Kelly were seated. "But can you prove it?"

"We could talk to Baden, perhaps he has some knowledge of this."

[In the Citizen's Mug]

Rob, Steve, and Jeff sat at their usual table, mugs of caf and whatever it was that Steve was drinking on the table in front of them. They tried desperately to talk about something, but somehow the subject kept going back to the conversation that Rob had with the captain, St. Clair, and Faulkner earlier that evening.

"I told them I didn't know anything about him, which I don't. And I told them that I didn't have any known relatives, with the exception of Jeff here."

Jeff took a sip of his caf and gave a visible face of disgust. "Ugh, who made this stuff? It's horrible!"

Rob looked at Jeff and frowned. "That's not nice to say."

Jeff just shook his head and tried to drink the rest of the caf, which he was finding with much difficulty. "Sorry, Rob, it's just that you've never been able to make good caf." He coughed a little and turned to Steve. "So, have you been able to get him up in the mornings? He's always been a little slow when it's time to get out of bed." Jeff looked at Rob and saw his face flush a little and heard chuckle coming from Steve. "Looks like I'm not the only one that's experienced your mornings, Rob."

"Hey, boys!"

Jeff, as well as everyone else, turned to see the form of Trixel Narmi, the bartender, standing behind him. "Hey, Trix, what's shaking?"

"Oh, nothing much, Knight. Hey, what was all that excitement that you and Schmitty had, Biggs? Everyone's been talking about how you've got a death mark on your head."

"Oy," was all that Rob said and just buried his head in his arms.

Trixel turned to Jeff, a questioning look on her face. "What's with him?"

"Pay him no mind, he just found out that he makes the Regis' worse caf ever and he's taking it very hard." There was some light laughter from Steve and Trixel and Jeff just patted Rob on the back. "Come on, don't be such a grump, it's okay, man, you can always try to make ale."

"Oh, shut up."

A new song came over the bar's sound system, a slow one, and Jeff looked at Trixel. "Hey, how's about a dance, Trix?"

She gave a loud scoff. "Like I'm going to dance with anyone lower than a lieutenant. Why don't you go ask Angel, I'm sure she'd love to dance with you."

"Nah…If I can't dance with you, than I shall not dance at all!" He looked over at Rob and saw his brother looking very sad. He shot Trixel a look and she instantly picked up on the "can I have a moment alone" signal. Once she was gone he leaned in close and said, "Rob, are you alright?"

"I just remembered something. Where's Zoom? I have to talk to him immediately."

Jeff pointed to another table where St. Clair and Magill were enjoying a drink together. He turned back to look at Rob and found that he was already on his feet rushing towards the area Jeff had just pointed out.

Kelly was enjoying a taste of a Full Throttle from his mug when suddenly he was tapped on the shoulder. He swallowed hard and turned to see the tall form of Baden. "Yes, Biggs?"

"Sir, I just remembered something about Dan. I do know him…in a way."

Kelly put down his mug and motioned to the chair beside him. Baden took a seat immediately and looked at him. "Okay, what is it?"

"It was a long time ago, I think I was around the age of eight or so. My father had been doing fairly well, but the Empire was stepping up their restrictions on trade and it hit him pretty hard. He had to take on some side jobs in order to break even. That's where Dan comes in."

Baden took a deep sigh and looked at Kelly again. Kelly just nodded his encouragement, letting Baden know that he could tell him anything he needed to.

"Dan set up this sweet-heart deal to smuggle some stuff through the Empire's boarders. Dan told my father that it was just some light contraband, such as books that had been outlawed by the Empire due to their teachings of the Old Republic law and such. But it was really illegal arms bound for some place out on the rim. They were going to be used in a private little war that was happening."

"And your father didn't like this?"

"Exactly." Rob looked around. "Colonel, he tipped off the Empire which, in way, was a good thing, but he still tipped them off. They came and took away Dan, locked him up on Kessel for five years. Dan was not exactly happy about it and swore he would find some way to repay my father for what happened to him."

"So, that explains why Dan would be after you." He scratched his chin for a moment, thinking intently. "But it still doesn't explain how he was able to locate the Regis."

"How could he know, sir? Is there any way that someone could find out where we were at?"

Kelly took a deep breath and just let it out. "I don't know, Biggs. But I assure you, I intend to find out. Someone took a shot at one of my pilots and they knew the location of a restricted zone. Both of those things I do not enjoy, and I will try my best to find out."

Chapter 3: Reservations

[In the Regis' simulator chamber, twenty-four hours later]

Jeni "Angel" Courtner brought her Y-wing around in a wide loop until she was behind the massive dreadnought. Her last pass took out a couple of turbo-lasers, allowing her to freely engage a definitive zone of the enemy ship's hull without being fired out. But that did nothing to change the fact that her tail was being shot at by a couple of squints.

"Tone, jack into the ion controls and cover my rear." A shrill sound from her R2 unit assured her that he was complying with her instructions. She throttled up even more and took another pass on the dreadnought as she heard the unmistakable sound of ionized fire behind her.

A stray turbo-laser shot hit her bow and her fighter bucked for a moment, its shields trying to compensate for the sudden drop in energy. She pumped some more energy into them but was hit with another blast almost immediately. The only good news was when her sensors logged both of the squints as disabled. "Thanks, Tone."

She switched the ion cannons back to her control and toggled over to torpedoes. Once a safe distance from the dreadnought she turned around and fired two torps into the engines. He sensors showed the drop in shields and that the hull was beginning to take damage. The dreadnought's commander, obviously fearing for their life, started a hyperspace computation. When Jeni saw this she switched her firing control to ion cannons and began sending out blue waves of lightning. Within a few moments the ship danced with blue sparks, the electricity and mechanical devices shorting out.

Once the ship was disabled she turned back over to lasers and finished off the disabled interceptors. After that, she turned around and finished off the dreadnought with the remainder of her torps. The cockpit then went dark and her canopy popped open.

As she climbed out she noticed that Rob Baden and Steve Michadick—the pilots of the interceptors she'd just downed—as well as Jeff Gerlach, Jamie "Shadow" Wethrill, and Neill Magill were staring at her. Gerlach had been her wingmate and was taken out early in the sim by Magill. Jeni took out Wethrill in retaliation and his ship collided with Magill, blowing them both up, leaving just Baden and Michadick to deal with.

"Pretty good, Angel," said Magill. "Though that little stunt with your R2 didn't really make it seem fair."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as 'fair' in a war, sir."

"Good observation." Magill clasped his hands together and raised his voice a little. "Good mission overall, though I suspect that some of you—namely those who got shot down—need a bit of practice."

"Does that mean you as well, sir?" asked Michadick.

"No, because I wasn't really shot down, I got sideswiped by a friendly fighter."

Jeni just grinned and helped her R2, Tone, down from his slot in the simulator. He was bleeting something—only the Force knows what—and followed her as she walked out of the room. It didn't take her long to get to her stateroom, a small double that housed both her and Chelsey "Vape" Maxfield, the only other female in the unit. Maxfield wasn't anywhere to been seen—she was most likely off with Mark "Redjed" Hagues, the resident Jedi trainee—so Jeni just set her helmet down and collapsed onto her bed.

She didn't normally get so tired after a simple simulator mission, but for some reason she had a feeling that there was something going. She knew—as did most of the other pilots in Red—of the attempt on Baden a couple of days earlier, and she didn't like it, but she didn't think that was what was bothering her.

She pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about it for the moment, and just settled down in her bed for a short nap.

[Ssomewhere in deep space]

Kohmin Dan paced the bridge of the Money Maker, his personal strike cruiser, as he looked at the lone pilot standing before him. He was the sole survivor of an attempt on Rob Baden, at least the sole survivor to escape. He had heard that another pilot had been taken prisoner after their hyperdrive had been destroyed. He glared at the pilot with red eyes, his hate and anger fully shown. "I'm still waiting for an explanation!"

"I'm sorry, Boss. It's like I said, he had a good wingman with him. The guy took out half of us with so much ease it's almost ridiculous."

"Of course it was easy, you dimwit! These aren't some pirates that you're dealing with, they're war-hardened pilots of good caliber." Kohmin took his hand and let it fly across his subordinate's face. "You're lucky you got out alive. The New Republic is not some fancy, pulled together outfit, it's a military organization. They actually train their pilots. Bah!" He turned around and walked away from the pilot. One of his bridge officers caught his eye and he walked to him. "What is it?"

"Sir, I've just received an update on the Regis' flight plan. They're making a course change to rendezvous with the Independence, apparently to take on more supplies."

"Good. We'll try again just after the resupply."

[In the Citizen's Mug]

Rob sat at his usual table, but this time he didn't have a mug in front of him, and neither of his friends was beside him. This time he was sitting alone, in the dark, much like how his first time in the Mug was a few weeks ago. After that first time he opened up some to his wingmate, Steve, but other than that he was pretty much secluded.

Now he was alone again, and the reason for such a move on his part had to do with what the day was. He had dreaded this day for a while but knew that he could not change it. It was exactly three years ago this day that he and Lela got together and it was, with a large amount of irony, three months ago exactly that Lela died.

Jeff and Steve knew about the date and left Rob alone. The other, Reds, however, did not know much about Rob as it was and he had to ask them to politely to leave from time to time. But for the most part, Rob was alone and rather wanted it that way.

A move caught his eye and he turned to see the form of Trixel standing before him. She was a very empathic person, able to read people despite the cover faces they put over. "Spill it," was simply what she said.

"Go away, Miss Narmi, I really am not in the mood to talk." He just lowered his head and waited for her to go away. He was surprised when she sat down in front of him. "Go away, please."

"Not until you talk to someone. Now, it doesn't have to be, but someone. You shouldn't let everything sink in, Biggs. You're giving yourself a hard time and you really don't deserve it."

Rob sighed and folded his hands on the table. "Okay. But first, I want a mug." As she began to rise he cleared his throat, stopping her. "And I don't want my usual. I want a mug of Alderaan Ale, from the year that she disarmed herself."

Her eyes widened at his request. "You realize that Alderaan Ale in itself is extremely rare, and that particular vintage unbelievably so. It's going to be very expensive."

Rob produced a credit chit and she took it. A few minutes later she returned with a mug of Alderaan Ale and the chit in her hands. After taking the chit and pocketing it he put the mug into the air, closed his eyes, and whispered a small salute to Lela. He opened his eyes and took a sip from the mug and set it down. "How much about me do you know?"

"Just what I pick up when bringing your ale and what your brother and Schmitty say. Not a whole lot. Why?"

Rob explained to her about Lela and his life with her. It took all of ten minutes, but after he was done he feel a cold chill settle onto him. "So, that's why I'm alone tonight. It's my 'anniversary,' so to speak."

"I'm sorry, Biggs. You know… maybe you should speak to Yale sometime. I think you'll find that you and he have some things in common."

Perhaps, Narmi. I can't promise I will, though." He was silent for a long time and then cleared his throat. "Look, I really don't mean to be rude, but could I please be alone?"

"Sure, I understand." She got up from the table and headed back to the bar, leaving Rob to his thoughts.

[In Angel and Vape's stateroom]

Jeni awoke with a start, sitting straight up in her bed. She checked the chrono and found that it had been over three hours since she settled down for a small "nap." Cursing herself softly she got out of bed and changed out of her flight suit. She put on a pair of fatigues and her jacket with the Red Squadron patch on it and left her stateroom.

She knew where she was going and it didn't take her long to get there at all. Just down the corridor was the stateroom of Steve and Rob and that's exactly the place she stopped in front of. She rapped on the door and it opened almost instantly. Steve appeared in the doorway. "Hey Angel, what's up."

She looked around him but saw the room was empty. "Where's Biggs?"

"Oh, he's in the Mug taking some alone time. Why, is anything wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nah, just wanted to talk to him, that's all. Hey, wait a minute, he's in the Mug alone? Knight's not with him?" That was unusual for him, he was almost always around Knight or Steve.

"No. You sure everything is okay?"

Jeni nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Schmitty. I'll see you later." Without another word she turned around and walked towards the lift and the Mug. About ten minutes later she was inside the Mug, looking about for Rob. He was, of course, in the back at his usual table, but this time the lights were a little dim and he looked incredibly unhappy. She walked over to the bar and leaned over. "Hey, Trix, what's with Mister Popular over there?"

Trixel shook her head. "Tonight is not a good time, Angel. Don't bother him, trust me."

Jeni took what Trixel said to heart and thought long and hard about whether she should go over or not. Finally she decided that she should, but when she turned to look at the table again Rob was gone.

[In Schmitty's stateroom]

Steve looked as Courtner walked down the corridor, her expression—of what he could see—one of worry and determination. At first he was a little concerned, but he shrugged it off and went back to his reading, the door sliding shut behind him. About a half an hour later Rob walked in, his expression somber and sad. "Hey, Rob. Angel was looking for you earlier."

"Really? Why is that?"

"I have no idea, but she seemed to want to talk to you really bad." Steve put down his datapad and looked over at his friend. "You okay? I know that you wanted to be alone tonight for a personal reason, but are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Rob, his voice sounding as if it would crack under pressure. "I'm okay, just a little tired."

"Well, you better get some rest, you've got an early sim session with Ranger and the trainees tomorrow." Steve chuckled as he heard Rob give out a low groan. "Hey, it's part of being in the unit, everyone helps the trainees with their flying abilities." He looked at his datapad again, scrolling down until he found something of interest. For someone reason he had agreed to look up the latest Imperial fighter tactics that the Alliance was able to get a hold of and brief the other Reds on them. He didn't know it was going to take this much effort, though.

He looked over at Rob and saw that he was already fast asleep. It always amazed Steve how he was able to fly a fighter, shoot down enemy targets—especially those gunning for him—and still be able to sleep so soundly. Steve gathered up his datapads and his jacket and walked out of the stateroom, leaving Rob to slumber in peace.

He walked down a couple of corridors and took a lift until he got to the Mug. During this time of night it was pretty quiet, only a few people around. Steve looked in and saw Magill, Courtner, and Jeff Gerlach sitting at a table in the center. He walked over and sat down. "What's up, guys."

"Hey!" came Courtner's reply."

"Whoops, sorry, Angel, didn't notice you there," he said with a grin. "So, what's going on? Anything exciting happening?"

"Not much," said Magill, his expression cool and fixed. "We're going to be rendezvousing with the Independence tomorrow to take on some extra supplies and hopefully get some more information on Kohmin Dan." Magill looked at Steve directly. "How's Biggs doing?"

"What can I say, he's Biggs. He's a loner, you know, and he doesn't talk about himself that much." That last statement wasn't exactly true. About two weeks after Rob came aboard he had confided in Steve about his reasons for joining the Alliance and some other things. He knew that Rob hadn't talked to anyone else about the subject, with the exception of his brother Jeff. "But from what I can tell he's holding up pretty good."

"Man, it must be rough having someone gunning for you."

"Not to contradict you, sir," said Courtner in such a cool, relaxed voice that Steve thought she had quite a bit of practice at "not contradicting" people. "But don't we all have someone gunning for us, for the Alliance in general?"

"She's got a good point, sir." Steve looked over at Trix and caught her attention. She nodded at him and took out a mug. "After all," he continued as he turned back to the table, "we're not exactly well liked by the Empire."

"Name one person that is well liked by the Empire, Schmitty."

"Heh. So, what kind of supplies are we taking on tomorrow? Anything really important?"

"Well, we're going to get a couple of Z-95s, for training purposes, of course. Other than that we'll just be receiving some more bacta & medical supplies, a new batch of holos for entertainment, and some spare parts for our fighters."

"Well, I bet Pappy's going to be happy about that." He took a sip of his mug and let the flavor last in his mouth. "Do you know of how they found anyone the Regis' position? I still can't understand that."

"We can't understand it either. Daly's not happy about it, and Faulkner is really not happy about it." Magill took a sip of his mug. "Let's just hope that the Independence has some answers."

[Admiral Ackbar's Office, CRS Independence]

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but High Command doesn't know how Dan was able to track the Regis."

Kelly looked at Admiral Ackbar with a sense of pride. The Mon Calamari was one of the most intelligent and competent officers in the Alliance fleet. His cool action at the Battle of Endor helped him to achieve status as the Commander in Chief of the military and he took his position very seriously. Kelly, of course, had spoken to him before on several occasions, but most of them were over Holo-Net transmissions. It was an extreme honor and pleasure to actually talk to the admiral in person, even if he had to do so in an office that felt very humid. "Do you know anything else about Dan that we don't? I'm quite worried about Flight Officer Baden being the target of personal vengeance."

The senior officer shook his head. "Not a thing, Colonel, I am sorry. We searched—" He was suddenly cut off as a warning klaxon began blaring. As if no reflex Ackbar touched a small communicator on his wrist. "Status."

The voice of Ackbar's first officer came back immediately. "We have several fighters and a couple of corvettes exiting hyperspace. The corvettes are registered as being under Khomin Dan's ownership and operation, and we assume that the fighters are part of his personal forces. They're moving in for an attack on the Regis, sir."

Without thinking Kelly picked up his helmet and rushed to the door of Ackbar's office. He switched on his comm link and spoke into it as he ran. "St. Clair to Regis."

"Regis, go ahead Colonel." That was the voice of Daly. He must know what's going on or else he wouldn't have answered directly.

"Launch all of Red immediately, sir. I'll be on my way shortly."

Even at a dead run most of the way, it was a good five minutes before he reached the hanger bay where his A-wing was berthed. Normally a pilot would travel between ships on a shuttle, but Kelly liked to have his fighter nearby. He climbed into his fighter and strapped in as the tech crew prepared him for departure. "This is Red Leader, lit and ready to leave."

"Copy that, Red Leader, you are cleared for liftoff."

Kelly hit a switch and waited as his repulsors lifted him smoothly off the deck. He goosed his throttle forward and shot out of the hanger and into the star-lit background of space. His sensors showed four three A-wings and nine X-wings forming up outside of the Regis. And far off in the distance, quickly closing in the Alliance forces, were at least two full squadrons, one of T-wings, the other of Starchasers, and two corvettes.

"This is Lead to Squadron. Reds Three, Four, Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen, stay behind and protect the Regis. Everyone else, form up into pairs and take out those fighters. If you get a free shot, fire your torps or missiles at those corvettes."

There was a mixture of acknowledgments form his pilots and six fighters took off towards the attacking forces. Arc pulled up alongside him and the two of them took off together. "Seven, stay close and watch my six. Don't break unless I give the order."

"Understood, Lead."

The advanced elements of the Reds met with the attacking forces and there was a clash of scarlet laser fire. As the two groups flew past each other, taking pot shots and lucky hits at one another, both broke apart into a massive furball. Once Kelly and Arc reached the area he found out something that he didn't expect to experience in a furball; flame-red enemy fire coming at his six.

"Lead to Squadron, watch your six at all times. These guys have lasers tuned to red, not green. Don't get complacent."

"Zoom, I've got one on my tail!"

Kelly pulled his fighter around into a wide loop. "I'm on it. Stay tight." He switched over to missiles and leveled the A-wing till it was just behind the T-wing attacking Arc. He waited the slightest of a second, and pulled on the trigger, letting a red warhead leap out of his launcher and hit the fighter square on, shredding it to bits. "That's one."

"Thanks, Lead."

"This is Fourteen, I could use some help here!" That was the voice of Knight shouting over the comm system. "I've got three T-wings on me and a Starchaser!"

"Hang on, Knight, We're on our way," came the voice of Biggs. Kelly checked his sensors and saw that Eight and Nine—Schmitty and Biggs—where moving in on the fighters attacking Knight. It wasn't long before the fighters had to break off and scatter.

Kelly keyed his comm again. "Seven, switch to missiles and lock onto my target." He targeted one of the corvettes and flew in from behind. It didn't take long until he was within range and let loose as much of his missiles that he dared. Beside him he noticed Arc doing the same thing. In about minute the corvette became nothing more than a spinning mesh of fried metal. "Scratch one 'vette."

"Make that two, Lead," came the voice of Schmitty. "We just bagged the other one."

"Hey, the fighters are bugging out." Ranger's voice almost sounded cheerful.

"So they are," said Kelly. "All right, when we're sure they're gone, return to the Regis for a debriefing."

[Red Leader's Office]

"They tried to kill him! First me, now him!"

Kelly sighed. "Rob, calm down. I know what you're going through, but Jeff can handle it."

"You don't get it, Zoom." Kelly knew Rob was being serious; he never called his CO by his callsign unless they were in battle, and then only in a tight spot. "He's my responsibility. He's my brother."

"I know that!" He stood up and looked at Rob straight in the face. "Faulkner thinks that Dan found out that Knight was in the same unit as you. So, naturally, he thought one of the best ways to hurt you was to take him out."

"We've got to find him. We've got to stop him!" Rob paced in front of him, his anger so massive it could light a match. "I mean it, Zoom!"

"I know, and Magill is coming up with an idea right now. He'll have something for us soon, Rob. I promise."

[In Red Squadron's briefing room]

Neill Magill gathered his notes and walked up to the holo projector. He knew that everyone--especially Baden, St. Clair, and Gerlach--were watching him, but that was not an usual occurence. The thing that was ususual, however, was the presence of Captain Daly. Daly did not usually attend squadron briefings unless they were of paramount importance, so his presence was a clear indication of how well he valued the pilots on his ship, despite the appearences that he made in the past.

Once at the lectern, he placed the datapads down and activated the holo projector. "Because of recent events--especially yesterday's botched attack on the Independence and the Regis--we think that Dan is on the retreat and could very well begin to leave Biggs and Knight alone."

There was some movement between Baden and Gerlach--both of which looked like they were trying to get up--and Neill held up his hand.

"That doesn't mean we're not going after them." That calmed down the two pilots almost immediatly. "A petty merc has made a move against pilots of this squadron and we are going to retaliate with a hard-nosed hit. Intelligence has been able to find the location of where he does most of his operations from, his 'corporate headquarters,' so to speak. We're going in and we're going to show them what it means to kick around Red Squadron!" That brought about several cheers from the pilots and even a subtle nod from Daly. "It's an Golan Three defense platform. How he managed to buy such high-grade military equipment, we're not sure, but with his background in arms dealing it's not a huge surprise." The holo projector came into view as the icon of a Golan defense plaform appeared. Around it small icons of Razors, T-wings, Starchasers, and Z-95 Headhunters flashed. "We expect there to be a heavy presence of fighters as well as some small class capital ships. Yes Angel?"

Putting her hand down Angel smiled sweetly. "Isn't this just a bit too much for thirteen pilots?"

"Yes. We're not out to destory everything, though. We're going to extract information from the platform and the people who are going to do it will be Gunther and Delta Team." there came a grunt from the back of the room and everyone--including Neill--turned to see Rylo Gunther sitting back there. "Yeah, we all love you too, Sarge. The Regis will engage the capital ships and keep their gunners occupied. If she takes too much damage she'll have to hyper out, so if you see a fighter gunning for her, take 'im out." The projector changed again to show the icon of a B-wing heavy fighter. "Red will break into three seperate groups. Group One will consist of Biggs, Schmitty, and Knight in B-wings. Now, please be careful with these ships, gentlemen; they're worth more than your bar tabs."

"Then you haven't seen my tab," said Baden.

"Well, make monthly payments. They'll be escorted by Arc and Zoom in A-wings. Group Two will consist of Gunther's transport and will be escorted by Angel and Shadow in X-wings. Keep the transport safe, you two. You don't want to deal with Gunther when he's been shot at."

"What if it's friendly fire?" jibed Mark Hagues. A low growl from Gunther quickly put an end to the grin on his face.

"I think you just had your answer, Redjed. Group Three will consist of myself, Leo, Yale, Vape, Redjed, and Lonewolf. We'll engage in general dogfight and offer aid when called upon. Yes Biggs?"

"What kind of information are we going to try and obtain?"

"Hopefully, Dan himself. If not, then some sort of information on how he was able to find the location of the Regis and your's and Knight's being in the squadron. If that fails, then a location of where he is or where he's going to be. Are there any questions?" After a brief silence Neill turned off the projector and picked up his datapad. "Then get to some practice. We hit the platform in six hours." He stepped down and walked over to Zoom, Daly and Gunther quickly coming forward as well."

"Well," said Daly. "If nothing else, the Regis will have a work out."

Rob was about to leave the breifing room when he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned around to see the form of Jeni Courtner standing there, her expression one that Rob could not make out. "Hey, Courtner. What's wrong?"

"Rob, I want you to promise me something." This was unusual. Courtner was one of his squadronmates, sure, but aside from the occasional word, the two didn't really talk. "Promise me that you'll be okay out there."

"Courtner, are you okay? What are you talking about?" Rob couldn't, for the life of him, understand what prompted her concerns. "It's just a normal mission, othing more."

"I have a feeling, Rob. Please, just promise me you'll be okay, that you won't take too much of a risk." The look in her eyes were almost pleading.

"Okay, okay, I promise. All right?" He lay a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "Listen, there's not going to be anything bad happen, you got it? I've got the colonel watching my six, so I know everything's going to be in good shape." When he was sure that Courtner was okay with his statement he turned and walked out of the door. Down the corridor he joined up with Steve and Jeff. "So, I get to fly a B-wing, eh?"

"Yep," said Steve. "It's a good assault craft, much better than that out-of-date X-wing that you two are so fond of."

"Bah! Give me an X-wing any day and I'll cover the deck with eyeball parts. At least it's not a snoop-scoot. I hate those things."

Jeff cut into the conversation. "I did pretty good on a snoop-scoot in training. But the feeling of not having any weapons...it didn't sit well with me."

"Like Delta Team enjoys being defenseless? We all have to do our parts, you know." He made a low grumble. "Though I wish I could do it from the cockpit of an X-wing. I don't understand how you can like it, Steve."

"Hey, it's not as good as an A-wing, I'm sure you will agree with me on that fact."

The three of them gave some more agreements in their conversation as they continued on down the corridor. It wasn't long before they made their way to the Mug.

Once in the Mug all three took their places at their usual table. "Hey, boys, what do you want?" asked Trixel when she came over to the table.

"Just give us some good, strong caf," said Jeff, before Rob could even get out a word. Trixel walked away and Rob just stared at him.

"I could have made us some caf, you know."

"Yeah, but I want to actually taste caf, not starfighter oil."

[Somewhere is deep space]

Kohmin paced the bridge of the Money Maker, his expression not happy. It had been almost a full day since the attack on the Regis had failed and he was not pleased at all from the reports of his pilots. His senior officers were telling him that the attack had shown that he was willing to hit a rather large target, but his own instinct was telling him that the Alliance would retaliate for such a venture on his part.

And that was nothing something he wanted to hear. He had lost a full squadron of during the attack, as well as both of the corvettes that he sent. If the Rebels did come after him, chances are he would not be able to repel much more. There was a good chance, though, that they would only send the Regis to deal with him, and that made him feel better.

"Sir!" came the voice of the Money Maker's captain. "We've recieved information on a course change for the Regis. They're heading to the Galner system."

"What?!" He rushed over to the captain, his expression turning into blatent anger. He looked at the communications report that the captain had in hand, his mind changing immediatly from anger to outright joy. "Yes...Yes! Finally!" He began to laugh outloud, the sound that of a cruel and evil being with a plan. "Contact the Scorpion immediatly and tell them to head for the outer edge of the Galner system. They are then to await my instructions."

"Aye, sir."

[the Galner system, four hours later]

Near the edge of the Galner asteroid belt, Ketcher Base stood tall and vigilent against the darkness, it's green hull decorated with a logo that marked it as the property of Kohmin Dan Enterprises. Just in front of it was a flight of four Razor fighters, their formation sloppy and chappy at best, the way most mercs who hadn't been trained properly are. To the aft and bow of the station was a Carrack-class light cruiser and a modified corvette.

Off the station's port, about ten klicks out, appeared the unmistakable outline of a Nebulon-B-class Escort Frigate. As soon as it's hyperdrive shut down and it was stable, two X-wing starfighters exited the hanger bay. It wasn't long until two more X-wings exited, and then four more after that, all in sets of two, taking up formation beside the frigate.

Moments later, two A-wings exited followed by three B-wings, each of which exited one at a time due to the large size of the fighter. A troop transport then exited and took up formation behind two of the X-wings, the B-wings and the A-wings making speed towards Ketcher base as the other fighters began to move forward to engage the Razors.

Several parsecs away, on the near edge of the system, was the barely recognizable image of a ship of unknown class with some smaller ships beside it. They were so far away to appear on any sophisticated sensor or targetting system, and were therefore not seen by either the forces rushing to defend Ketcher Base or the Alliance fighters and frigate moving in to attack them.

[Somewhere in deep space]

"Sir! Ketcher Base says they're under attack by a frigate and several fighters."

Kohmin Dan walked over to the communications station and flipped a switch. "Scorpion, you are clear to engage."

[On the Regis's Main Bridge]

Gideon Daly, the commanding officer of the Regis watched the tactical display in front of him with intent interest. The attack was proceeding well. So far there had been no serious damage to either Red Squadron and Delta Team's transport or the Regis herself. A slight movement caught his eye and he checked the display once again. "Helm, bring us to course two-two-three mark six and cut that corvette off before it makes its escape."

"Aye, sir." A moment later the ship lurched slightly as it turned to port.

Suddenly an alarm sounded and Daly turned in his chair to look at Jemol. "What is it, Exec?"

"Sensor's are picking up a very large object entering the area just on our aft. Two small ships are right behind it." The Mon Calamari paused a moment then looked at Daly dead on. "It's an Interdictor cruiser and two Lancer-class frigates!"

"It's a trap!"

[On the Bridge of the interdictor Scorpion]

Captain Jaros Bane looked out the view port at the end of the command walkway, his eyes tracing several of the fighters under Kohmin Dan's command making runs and attempted runs against the three B-wings moving in towards his ship. He saw several of the defense forces shot down, their skill obviously not up to par with that of the Rebels. Bane turned and looked into the "pit," finding the gunnery officer. "Ensign Harowlitz, conncentrate all fire on those B-wings. We don't want them to get too close to us."

Almost immediatly there was a shudder passing through the ship. Bane turned to his tactical officer. "Don't tell me that was a torpedo hit."

"All right, I won't tell you...but it was. The B-wings are within range, sir."

"Great. Ensign! Snap it up, I want them out of my sky!"

[Just outside of Ketcher Base's upper dock seal]

"We have hard dock!"

Rylo Gunther got up from his seat as he heard the pilot and walked to the end of the docking hatch. "All right, listen up!" The men and women around him immediately snapped their heads in his direction. "We expect to meed with a good sized resistence, so stay sharp. Team One will move in to the datacore section and try to hack into the system. Team Two will secure the bridge and try to gain any information you can from there. The pilots will keep the dock secure so that we don't run back here into a trap. Is everyone understood? Good! Then lock-and-load!" He pulled out his E-11 assault rifle and climbed down the docking hatch, jumping down onto the deck of the base and immediatly searching the surrounding area to make sure that no one was around. Once that was done he gave the signal for the rest of Delta Team to come down.

Moments later Delta Team broke up into two teams, Team One heading towards the datacore, Team Two converging on the bridge.

[In the space outside Ketcher Base]

"Lead, I've got one on my tail!"

"Hang tight, Biggs, I'll pick him off." Zoom throttled his A-wing up a little and came up behind the Razor that was attacking Biggs. He selected his missiles and immediatly shot off a warhead. "Goodbye, fighter. Your six is clear, Biggs."

"Much appreciated, Lead. Cover me, I'm heading in for attack." The B-wing banked slightly to the left and headed straight for the interdictor and Kelly moved in behind him, staying close behind. A few moments later several blue flames of fire shot loose and headed towards the once-Imperial capital ship. "You know, Lead, I've been thinking."

"Something I aspire to in all my pilots, Biggs. Try to do it more often." He barrel-rolled to his port and did a wide loop as a T-wing came into view. Hitting his lasers he let the red fire dance on his target's rear shields. It wasn't long before the shields gave way and the hull began to take massive damage. A few shots later the tri-winged fighter blew apart in a bright glow."

"Funny, Lead. No, I've been thinking about how Dan got his hands on an interdictor, and I can't seem to think of any possible way then it being captured. Though I can't understand how someone of his limited resources was able to achieve it."

"We'll let the Intel spooks worry about it, Biggs. You just worry about taking it out."

Steve pushed back on his throttle a little as he made a very tight turn, the Interdictor coming into his sights. He switched over to his warheads and let the reticle drift over the hull until he found a gravity generator. Without even turning on his targetting computer he let loose all of his torpedos in one massive volley. "This is Eight, birds are away and flying to target. Launcher empty."

A couple of moments later, as the blue warheads impacted on the white-colored hull of the giant ship, Steve finally turned on his targeting display and locked onto the interdictor. It's tactical readout showed that its shields wer down to fifteen percent. "Eight to Fourteen."

"Fourteen here, go ahead Schmitty."

"Dump the rest of your torps into that iterdictor. Its shields are low and can't withstand your attack."

"Copy that, Fourteen on the way."

Steve looked to his right and saw Jeff throttle up, the blue lances of recognizable torpedoes leaving the fighter appearing into the space in front of him. It wasn't long before the ship's hull dropped in stablity and went to zero percent. "This is Eight to Squadron, interdictor is down and out. We're free to leave at any time."

[On the Regis's Main Bridge]

"Helm, move us close to engage those Lancers. Gunnery, concentrate all portside guns on those targets." Daly was no longer sitting in his chair. He was up and about, looking intently at the tactical display shown on the main screen. "Status from Delta Team?" He turned to Kristy McCall, waiting for her response.

"They're meeting with heavy resistence. It's going to be a while before they can get in and crack the core."

"Acknowledged. X.O., situation of capital ship defense?"

Jemol instantly answered, his voice not even wavering. "The corvette and interdictor are debris. The cruiser seems to be trying to make a run for it. And the Lancers are currently engaging us as well as providing support for their starfighters."

"Excellent. Comm, inform Colonel St. Clair that he is free to engage targets at his discretion. He need not worry about us."

[Inside Ketcher Base]

"We're in!"

Gunther double tapped his comm link to verify the statement as he ducked behind a terminal to avoid some heavy blaster fire. They had just reached the Bridge and apparently the other team just entered the datacore section as well. "Try and get as much information as you can! And hurry back to the transport, we're not welcome here!" He pulled off a thermal detonator and tossed it inbetween the doors and ducked. A moment later there was a loud and bright explosion and several screams that abruptly ceased. Looking around the corner he noticed that most of the defenders were out and he moved in, his commandos following close behind.

They made their way to the main computer systems and sliced into the network. It didn't take them long to download its contents, mostly personnel records and defensive capabilities. But they didn't find anything concerning Dan or his operations here.

"Sarge!"

Rylo clicked on his comm link. "Yeah!"

"We've hacked into the core and are downloading as much information as we can. So far we've been able to confirm that Dan is not on the station and we're in the process of trying to locate his whereabouts."

"Good work! As soon as you're finished high tail it back to the transport, we're out of here." He hung up the link and turned to his team. "All right! We're heading back to the transport. Everyone stick tight and cover yourself. We'll be off his rock soon. Demolitions!" A small, fragile-looking woman stepped forward. "As soon as we get done, plant charges at the docking hatch and set a timer. But not before! All righty, let's go!"

[In the space outside Ketcher Base]

Rob made pass after pass at the retreating light cruiser. With most of the other capital ships out of the way, and the fighters too fast and agile to effectively engage, Rob, Jeff, and Steve had decided if they could take out the capital ship with lasers before it could make it's jump to hyperspace.

When the news of Delta Team's departure from the platform he gave a silent hurrah. The Lancers were nearly destroyed, as were most of the fighters. Rob was pulling into another run on the cruiser when his comm system came alive.

"All fighters, return to ship. Repeat, all fighters, return to ship immediately!" St. Clair's voice was loud and clear, but Rob was determined to take out the cruiser.

"I'll be right there, Lead. Just got to finish this cap ship off."

"Negative, Nine. You're too close to the station. Break off."

"What does being close to the station have to do with it?"

His answer to the question was one of the brightest explosions he had ever seen and a shockwave that bounced his B-wing about like a toy boat on a pond. His fighter began to spin and it was all he could do to avoid hitting the now burning station. The good thing was that the proximity of the explosion had crippled the Lancers and the fleeing cruiser. But it also knocked out Rob's engines and the complex system that normally kept his cockpit pod stable. "This is Nine! I'm in real trouble here! I'm--"

His words were cut short as his head smacked into the cockpit bulkhead.

[In the Regis's Medical Bay]

Zoom looked at the bacta tank in which Biggs floated. His mind was full of emotions ranging from anger at Baden disobeying him to hope for Baden to pull out of this without any complication. A couple of footsteps sounded and ended at his side. He didn't even have to turn to know who it was. "So much for his promise."

Angel just stared in silence, not meeting Kelly's eyes or even really looking at Baden's bacta tank. After about five minutes she whispered, "He did say he was going to try. That's all I could hope for, you know."

"Angel, you have nothing to fear." He turned to her. "Look, I don't know what it is that you have that makes you feel like you should have protected him, like you knew something bad was going to happen. You didn't know. This is the price we all pay for flying and fighting."

"I know, sir. It's not something I can really explain. Perhaps when Biggs gets out I'll be able to talk to him about it and get him to understand."

Kelly didn't respond, his mind very full of thoughts that he couldn't make. He hated seeing his pilots in this situation, even if they did disobey his orders. Perhaps, Angel. Perhaps.

[In Schmitty's stateroom]

Schmitty sat at his small desk, the lights in the room as low as they could get without being dark. The setting fit the mood that he was in. He kept looking over at Rob's empty bed, his expression full of anger and regret. He wasn't exactly sure why he was feeling the regret--after all, Rob was going to be okay--but he was.

The bed itself was very neat and made without so much as a wrinkle on it. That was a good indication of how well Rob treated his area and possesions. The rest of Rob's side of the room was clean and spotless in a very military fashion. In fact, the only visible personal item of Rob's was that of a stilled holo of Rob, Jeff, and Torch. There was, no doubt, more stilled holos or items of a personal nature; Rob just kept them packed away.

His door chime sounded and Steve found his train of thought jeered. He got up from the desk and walked over to the door. "Yes?" he said to the door. It immediatly slid open to reveal the form of Knight in a loose-fitting day fatigue, normal dress for a pilot not on alert status. "Oh, hi Jeff. Come on in." Steve stepped aside to let Jeff in and the other pilot slowly walked past him into the meager-sized stateroom, settling himself into an ejection seat from an old Y-wing. Steve walked back to his desk and sat down, the door shutting behind him. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, " said Jeff in a quiet voice. "I think you know why I'm here." There was a little stretch of an akward silence before Jeff continued. "How is he, Steve? And don't feed me any fake datastream, this is my brother we're talking about."

Steve was silent for a moment, mentally composing himself. "Zoom says that he'll be in the bacta tank a couple of more days, and at least a week in recovery, possibly more. He took a little sharpnel in his leg and the Two-OneBees had a hard time removing it." Even now, as he was telling Jeff this, Steve was feeling very much as if a part of him was in the Medical Bay's bacta treatment tank. He'd flown with a lot of pilots since he jioned the Alliance, and the Reds were a top-notch bunch who knew what they were doing, but for some reason Rob was the only wingmate he ever felt really close to. The strange fact, though, was that while Steve talked to Rob a lot about himself, he hardly knew anything about Rob other than what happened to his wife-to-be. "He's in good hands, though. And he's being watched constantly. Angel's looking in on him right now."

That brought a little movement from Jeff. "Jeni? Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why?'"

"Well, I mean, she never showed any kind of interest in Rob before."

"I don't think it's that kind of an interest, Jeff." He moved to the other Y-wing ejection seat next to Jeff. "Just before we launched, Rob told me that she came up to him after the briefing. She was--oh, what was his word?--distraught, said she'd been having a bad feeling something was going to happen to him. She was so distraught that she made him promised not to get hurt. She's feeling like part of Rob's condition i sher fault."

"Well, it's not. Rob knew what he was going, he knew the risks and consequences of his actions. Though I still don't know why he ignored the colonel's orders."

Steve sighed and looked down at the floor. He took a deep breath and looked at Jeff square in the eyes. "He's going to pull through, you know. We're not going to lose him, so stop thinking like that. Okay?"

Jeff suddenly got up and headed for the door. Just before he left he turned his head slightly and said, "That's good, you know. I've lost everyone but him, and I can't stand to lose anyone else." He walked out the door and soon Steve was once again alone.

Steve just stared at the floor, his mind going over what Jeff had said. And in the far reaches of his mind, a little voice said, Me, too.

[In the Captain's Ready Room]

"We've been able to identify how Kohmin Dan was able to locate the Regis."

Gideon Daly looked up at the half-sized HoloNet image of Admiral Ackbar in front of him. "That's good news, sir. We've been trying to figure it out on our end, but never did come up with any solid leads. Exactly how was it done, sir?"

The large Mon Calamari gave a rumbling, unpleasant cough. "They were able to jack in to the HoloNet subsystem and monitor all the communications going to and coming from the Independence. We've been able to plug the leak and are feeind some 'false' information in place to make them believe the system is still working."

Daly nodded. "Very inventive. It almost sounds like something Isard would use."

"Indeed. We surmise that, somehow, he was able to acquire such a device from her. Perhaps that's where he was able to get the Interdictor. But, that's something for Intelligence to brew over. Were you able to learn the location of Dan?"

Daly couldn't resist but giving a little grin. "We cracked the encryption about an hour ago. I've got a mission planning session with Lieutenant Colonel St. Clair in thirty minutes from now."

"Good. Just in case Dan has another way of tapping our communications, don't send us a battle plan. Take the plan you decide upon and act, with my approval, Captain."

"Thank you, sir."

[In the Citizen's Mug]

Just like every other day, the Mug was full of Red Squadron pilots as well as some naval personnel. But, unlike other days before, this day did not hear the joyful sounds of cheerful conversation or the slapping of backs. Instead there was little to no conversation going on and the people were just sitting down at tables and drinking, their expression glum, especially amongst the Reds.

The loss--even if it was a temporary one--of one of their fellow pilots brought down the Reds in a heavy way. Rob Baden hadn't been with the unit long--just a little under a month--and he had been very secluded to most of the squadron, but he was still one of their peers, one of their friends. He was part of their family now, and family always takes care of its own. And Family always mourn and feel surrow at the wounding or death of one of their own.

Even Trixel, who was usually in pretty good spirits, was feeling bad. She knew why Rob was keeping his distance from everyone, why he was reluctent to make friends or even move on into a relationship. He had problems. The sad fact is that so did everyone else in the squadron, and she had heard a lot of their stories.

All of a sudden and at once, every comm link for Red Squadron went off. Several of the pilots pulled out their links and turned it on, the sound coming over the small speaker a familair one. "This is Lieutenant Colonel St. Clair to all Red Squadron pilots. Report to the mission briefing immediatly. Repeat, report to mission briefing immediatly."

All of the pilots got up from their chairs and walked out the door. There began some hopeful, wishful conversations while others contemplated a fearful announcement about Rob. But, be it good or bad, at least people were talking again.

[In Red Squadron's Mission Briefing Room]

Zoom looked at the pilots as they filed into the briefing room. He looked at their faces and noticed the grim look that he shared with them. They want Rob out of that tank. And they're willing to do almost anything to do it.

As soon as the entire squadron--minus, of course, Baden--was assembled he stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. "We have cracked the code on the downloaded data that Gunther's team brought back. We now know where Kohmin Dan is and we can put an end to his little man-hunt for our pilots." That brought some cheers from the squadron, but Kelly quickly put his hand up to quiet them. "We've also found out how they were able to track the Regis and have begun feeding false information about our movements. So Dan will know nothing of our operation. Major."

As Zoom stepped back Ranger walked forward and punched up the holo projector. "This will be a massive strike aimed at one thing: to take Dan out once and for all. Because of the recent battle, the Regis took a little bit of a beating, and so is not in the best shape to fight, but she's still going in. She outguns Dan's ship extremely, which is a strike cruiser, by the way. And it's right here." The image of a deep space system appeared on the projector. The only visible planetary bodies were that of an asteroid cluster. "The Kinster system. It's got no planets, just a huge cluster of rocks. Perfect for a hiding spot."

"Yeah, well, Dan won't have a place to run once we're finished with his hide!" shouted out Schmitty. Zoom couldn't help but give a little grin at the comment.

"We're going in by flights for this one and be in X-wings. Everyone will unload their torps into the cruiser as soon as you can to help the Regis. After that, you are to engage targets of opportunity and to offer the Regis as much help as you can provide. We expect fighter cover to be no more than a squadron, but be ready for any reinforcements. Yes, Schmitty?"

"What are the new wing and flight assignments? With all the new pilots in the past couple of weeks our old system doesn't work anymore."

"Well, that's true, so we designed a two-flight system of wingmates. Flight One will consist of myself with Shadow, Schmitty with Biggs and Knight--though with Biggs on the medical list, it will just be Knight--and Leo with Arc. Flight Two will consist of Zoom with Angel, Redjed with Lonewolf, and Yale with Vape. The former pilot mentioned in each case is the leader of the pair, and it's pretty obvious who the flight leaders are. Got it? Good." He stepped back.

Kelly stepped back up to the podium and set his hands on it. "People, I'm not going to beat around the bush on this one. Dan is a threat, and always will be, to our unit. His direct attack on two of our pilots has to be met with retaliation and retribution. His attempt to take us all out at our last engagement shows that he wants Biggs and Knight dead no matter who else goes with them. So, I am going to give you one objective that must be achieved: Kohmin Dan must not escape. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" came a response from everyone in the room.

"Good. Now get some sack time. We'll launch in twelve hours and we'll be there two hours after that. Dismissed!"

[In the Regis's Medical Bay ten hours later]

Angel walked into the Med Bay wearing her flight suit. She was all ready to leave, even her droid, Tone, was getting loaded up into her fighter at this exact moment. Yet, she still had one more thing to do.

She walked up to the bacta tank and placed her hand on it, keeping her eyes on the floor. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, floating helplessly in the healing fluid. "I know you can't hear me," she said, not caring if any of the doctors or orderlies could heard her. "But I'm going to say it anyways. You don't know much about me, Rob, nor do I know much about you. I know that your brother thinks that my hanging out here is because I'm interested in you. Well, in a way he's right, but not in the way he is thinking of."

Angel took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Rob, you're in pain. And I don't mean the pain that's visible. I can tell that you've been through something really traumatic, and so, I just thought you should know that if you need a friend, a real friend, who will listen to you, and hopefully be listened to, you've got one. I know what you've got through; I don't specifically know what happened to you, but as someone who's been in a large amount of pain myself, I can tell that you're hurting and finding it very hard to heal. That's pretty much all I wanted to say." She was silent for a moment and after that time finally looked up at the tank her hand was on, to discover that it was empty.

"Uh, Angel," came a voice from behind her.

She turned around to see Rob lying on a medical bed. Her face was full of surprise and relief. "I thought you were still in the tank."

"Well, the Two-OneBees let me out a couple of hours ago. I've been here in recovery since then."

"You could have said something a little sooner, you know. I feel pretty foolish just standing here talking to an empty bacta tank."

"What, and miss all the kind words?" He grinned at her. "Besides, I knew you had to say it now or you never would. It looks like you're ready to go. Big mission?"

"Last one, we hope, at least in regard to Kohmin Dan. We'll get him for you, Biggs. You can count on it."

"Officer Baden," said St. Clair, cool and precise. "I hear that you'll be in recovery for about a week." After a long pause he said in a cold tone, "and unable to fly a week after that."

"Sir?" Rob was a little surprised, though he should have known something like this would happen.

"You disobeyed a direct order, Officer. Now I understand your reasons for doing so, and I'm sure if I were not as seasened as I am and in your place I would do the exact same thing. But that does not discount the fact that you diddisobey a direct order to disengage from the battle zone. Because of that you'll be off the flight line for a week and I'm sending you to spend some time with Major Magill on 'refreashing' your skills. But let me get this through to you." He stepped forward so that he was close to Rob's face, his expression somber. "Don't you ever disobey another order unless you know that in order to do so will cost someone their life, other then your own. Got it?"

Rob just sat there, his own expression full of some fear and dangerous understanding. He nodded once, then said in a low voice, "Yes, sir."

St. Clair pulled back and stood straight up. "Good. Now, get some rest, Baden, because when you're clear to move around in a repulsor chair, you're going to be buying a lot of drinks for your squadmates. Today we're tacking that Sithspawn Dan out." He turned around and Rob watched him leave the Med Bay, the warmth seeming to slowly return to the room after his departure.

[In the Kinster System]

Twelve Incom T-65b X-wing starfighters emerged into the darkness of space from a point that could not be perceived by the naked eye. Their formation was a standard six-fighter two-flight upper vic that allowed them to bracket the frigate appearing behind them. The darkness of their paint--with the exception of the red markings on the s-foils and the nose--made them that much harder to spot, but did not make them any less deadly.

About twenty klicks away was a Loronar strike cruiser with about a half dozen small supply ships off its port. Fighters, mostly Z-95 Headhunters and R-41 Starchasers, patrolled the area and immediatly went on alert with the arival of the new forces. They turned about and headed towards the frigate, their sensors showing them that they were facing a full squadron of the Alliance's best fighter craft.

It took only a matter of time before both forces clashed and broke up into a massive lightfight. Scarlet laser fire filled cold space as pilots and machines fought for victory or survival.

Steve nudged the throttle on his X-wing forward a little, bringing it up to one hundred percent power. He linked his lasers and evened out his shields fore and aft. "Okay, Doc, keep your dome down. These guys aren't good, but there's going to be a lot of hot light flashing about."

The dome-shaped R2 unit behind him bleeped a reply and Steve just gave a little laugh. "No, I don't think Rob would like that too much. Hang tight, here we go." Steve flipped a switch on his communications system and brought it over to the channel that his element used. "Eight to Fourteen."

Jeff's voice, young but calm, answered instantly. "Fourteen here."

"Stick tight, Knight, we're going to get some hide for Biggs. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"I'm on your wing, Schmitty."

Steve banked to the right and went into a slow dive towards a pair of Z-95s that were making a run on the Regis. He didn't immediatly target them so as not to tip them off, but instead let his crosshairs drift over the one on the left. "Knight, take the one on the right, blindfire lasers. Fire on my mark." Steve closed in a little bit more until he was just under a quarter of a klick away from the enemy targets. He let finger slowly depress the firing control and, at the exact same time he hit the trigger, he shouted, "Mark!" into his headset.

Two pairs of scarlet bolts leaped out from his lasers and his wingman's, hitting both fighters dead on. As they started to turn to break off their run, Steve fired again, yelling another "mark" over the comm.

Steve's target got it's left wing clipped off and started drifting to the right. Jeff's target was unaware of the danger he was in and didn't notice until it was too late. Both fighters collided and created a brief nova. "Scratch two."

A persistent beeping from Doc forced Steve to look at his display for a translation. He then discovered that Doc was informing him of a full flight of R-41s heading towards him and Knight, mostly Knight. "Fourteen, we've got a slew of company coming for us."

"I read it, Eight. Ideas?"

Steve thought in his head for just the briefest of moments, then slowly smiled. "One comes to mind. Here's what we're going to do."

Yven Jahanson was not the typical "merc." She prided herself on being able to outthink problems that arose, whereas most mercs prefered to blow something up. In deciding to work for Kohmin Dan she had earned herself a reputation for being on the right side of a business deal. She had risen fast through the cadre that worked for Dan and had become the head of his starfighter operations division, a position that allowed her to hone her natural talent unlike previous jobs.

Because of the failure of other starfighter units in Dan's employ, Yven had decided to take a personal interest in the case concerning the Baden/Gerlach job. It should have been simple, really. Neither of them were considered high-level pilots, and they weren't exactly high-profile within the Alliance, but one of the main problems that Dan and his forces didn't seem to take into consideration was the intervention of Red Squadron.

Red Squadron, dating back to the birth of the Alliance, had been on of their most visible and symbolic units against the Empire. While the destruction of Red Squadron at Yavin did require the need of a brand new unit, that new unit had achieved and even surpassed the skill level that the original one had. Even with the Emperor's death and the Empire beginning to dwidle in military operations that boastered success, Red Squadron had continued to press hard against the evil that they faced.

The fact that Dan's forces were now considered part of that evil did little to hamper Yven's thoughts about her job. She was a professional.

She cut her throttle back to about seventy-five percent and started to pace the X-wings in front of her. Her wingmen followed her lead and she instantly grinned. At least I know I can rely on them. "This is Jack Lead to Flight. Three, Four, try to bracket the other X-wing, the one marked Red Eight, and pull him offsides. Two, cut off to port and start to fire at the aft shields of Gerlach's fighter. Bring him around to zero-five-one and into my sights. Herd him."

There were scattered acknowledgements and she banked off to the right and prepared to wait for the end of her contract job. And everything seemed to be doing well. Red Eight--who Dan's intelligence had learned was Lieutenant Steve Michadick--did, indeed, get caught between Three and Four's line of fire and had to break off his flight with Gerlach. But when Jack Two started herding Gerlach towards her, Yven spotted something that was very odd. Gerlach had launched a proton torpedo but the missile hadn't ignited; it simply drifted along the X-wing's previous course, following the impetus given it by the fighter and its launching mechanism. Looks like a dud.

Distracted by the slow-moving warhead, she failed to notice Jack Two exploding. When she turned to see what had taken out the R-41 she saw Red Eight flying in towards her. Jack Three and Four were nowhere to be seen. This guy's good. Going to have to pay special attention to him.

The problem was that she did, indeed, pay attention to him. She became completely involved in the dogfight with the X-wing that she didn't notice where her flight was taking her: toward the improvised "mine." As she entered the radius of the torpedo's proximity fuse, it exploded, kicking her fighter into a helpless roll. Stars wheeled outside her canopy as she recovered from her surprise and assessed the situation: shields completely gone, hull and lasers damaged, and the port wing of her fighter missing. The last thing she saw was the bright red light of four laser blasts heading towards her canopy. "Oh, sithsp--"

"Good, Schmitty. Ready to take some more out. I have to admit, your idea on the torp was good. I never really thought you could do such a thing."

Steve grinned inwardly. "Just something I picked up. Now let's get going."

Kohmin Dan tried to maintain his grip on the railing as the ship lurched again from another torpedo impact. He looked towards the Mon Calamari at the tactical station and shouted, the venom in his voice clear and crisp. "Status report!"

The grave voice of the tactical officer didn't hide his contempt for the situation at hand, and Dan could not exactly blame him. "They've taken out all of the convoy craft, and most of the fighters. We're currently holding our own against their attack. We're lucky, they used most of the torps agains the convoy."

Dan scowled at him. "Luck? We lost our entire arms shipment. Do you know how much credits that was worth? No, of course you don't, you're incompetent!" He turned away and tried to climb up into his command chair, an effort that was made harder as the ship's artificial gravity began to fluctuate. "Someone open a channel to our reinforcements! We need back up immediately!"

Kristy McCall looked over her shoulder at her captain. "It's confirmed, sir. The Money Maker is calling for help, but so far they aren't getting an answer." She shifted slightly in her chair. "It's almost like they're not going to come to his aid."

Daly looked back at the tactical display that was in front of him. Red Squadron and the Regis' gunners have taken out all of the convoy craft and almost every fighter was space debris. St. Clair and his pilots were very good at their work, and with only minor damage done to their fighters they were still fit for battle.

"Helm, bring us around to course one-one-five-eight and increase to flank speed. Tactical, concentrate all port and foreward guns on the strike cruiser's aft section. Take out their engines as soon as possible."

There were a couple of "aye, sirs" and then the ship moved slightly to port, the engines kicking in even more. It didn't take long before the huge ship was within max range of their guns and red turbo fire began to lance out. Daly studied the tactical display some more, making sure that his move was the correct one.

"Captain..."

Daly turned in his chair to see Kristy McCall looking at him from the communications station. "Go ahead."

"We just received an intercept from Dan's reinforcements. They're refusing to come to his aid."

"They're what?"

"They're what?"

The woman at the communications station just shrugged. "That's what they said, sir. They don't think that a dying man has the right to command them."

"Argh!" Dan just hit his command chair with the full force of his fist. "If I get out of there, I'm going to kill them!" Just then, a series of very hard and powerful shudders made him look towards the tactical station. "Well?"

"We're taking turbo-laser fire from the Regis." The Mon Calamari was quiet for a moment then looked back up at Dan. "We've also just lost the last of our fighter cover."

"All of you are completely inept!"

Schmitty brought his X-wing around on a direct course for the Money Maker's engines, Knight tight on his wing. Steve was impressed with Jeff's abilities to pilot the X-wing--a craft that Steve himself considered outdated, but usefull--and his skill at maintaining a tight formation. I can see why he's Rob's brother, even if only in name.

"This Eight to Lead. Fourteen and I are making our run." He throttled up even more and brought his targetting HUD to center on the port engine. Beside him Jeff was doing the same thing. It wasn't very long before they were both within firing range and they let loose a slew of lasers, letting the fire dance out from their wingtips and fly through space to hit the blue-glow of the huge engine. Soon the large ion engine sparked and then blew apart in a massive explosion. A small shockwave rocked the area around it and caused the X-wings to steady themselves. Shards of durasteel and ion parts floated away from the cruiser's aft as Schmitty and Knight looped away for another pass.

Ranger's voice came over the headset Steve was wearing. "This is Two, starboard engine is out. The cruiser's beginning to slow."

A new voice came over the comm channel. "This is the Regis to Kohmin Dan aboard the Money Maker." Schmitty instantly recognized it as Captain Daly, and he did not happy. "In the name of the New Republic, you are ordered to stand down immediately and prepare to be boarded. Any further resistance will result in the destruction of your ship and the capture of any escape pods you launch."

"This is Kohmin Dan." He held the mic up to his mouth with one hand, the other trying to hold onto his command chair as the deck continued to tilt. "I will never surrender and there is no way you can destroy my ship. I'll live, and Baden and Gerlach will die in their own blood. Do your worst!" He slammed his hand down on the comm as his ship shook with another hit. Then there was a hammerblow to his chest and he lost his balance, finally toppling to the deck.

Dan weakly turned his head and saw his tactical officer holding a smoking blaster. He then looked down to his chest and saw only a blackened hole. His last sight was the tactical station blowing up behind his assassin, pitching the traitorous Mon Calamari forward in a shower of sparks. Dan smiled bitterly as darkness claimed him.

Steve watched as the onslaught of laser fire splashed against the hull of the cruiser. It started to spin and rotate on its axis as its maneuvering thrusters fired randomly, a sure sign that it was near destruction. Several small blips appeared on his tactical screen, launching from the cruiser. "This is Eight to Regis. Escape pods are on an outbound vector and will be running past your port."

"Thanks for the heads up, Eight. We're preparing for tractor-beam recovery."

"This is Lead to Squadron." Zoom's voice was clear over the head-set speakers inside his helmet. "We're clear for hostiles. Everyone head back to the barn. Time to make Biggs pay for all the drinks we'll be having." As he finished speaking, the strike cruiser began to break up from internal explosions.

Hours later, Gideon Daly examined the debriefings of the survivors of the Money Maker. None of them had been on the bridge, so there was no information on Dan's final moments or why he had chosen to fight to the last. No matter, Daly thought as he put the reports away. The situation is contained and over. Ah, it will be good to have some peace for a while, even if it's short lived.

Rob was uncomfortable in the repulsor-chair, but knew that for the better part of a week he'd have to be confined to it. And a week after that, confined to the simulator chamber. He didn't challenge the CO's judgement, and knew that he was getting off rather light compared to what the colonel was within rights to do. Military discipline was tightening up now that the New Republic was a real government, at least in name.

One thing that made it easier was being in the company of friends. To his right, as usual, was Steve, a mug of some green drink in front of him. And to his left was Jeff, the young and energetic man who was his brother, a mug of Corellian Ale in front of him. Rob couldn't drink alcohol yet, but he had a glass of something refreshing as well. Everything about the situation was pretty much as it had been in the past.

Except for the presence of Jeni sitting across from him. Jeni's earlier encounter in the Medical Bay had turned Rob's perspective around concerning her. She was a vibrant, skilled, and even beautiful woman who shared something with him, something that Rob was finding that much of the Alliance personnel had; pain. So, in his changing mood--and his long, somber hours in the Medical Bay thinking about things--Rob decided to open up a little bit more and include yet one more person into his life.

He had gotten used to distancing himself from everyone but his adopted brother, so that he wouldn't feel more pain if something happened to them, like most of the people he'd loved. But, given what Jeni had said earlier, he knew that to cut her out would be to cut out a friend. And a friend was something Rob severly needed in his life, especially one whom he could count on for support.

He picked up his mug and, with all the strength he could manage without exerting himself too much, raised it high. "To my friends and brother; never was there a finer trio of people alive. To life!"

"To life!" they echoed, and clashed mugs against his. They all took large sips of their drinks and then set them down on the table again.

Rob relaxed even more and felt, for the first time in a long while, as if he had actually found a home onboard the Regis.

The End