It was always cold on the Regis at night. Hanging in a vacuum in a cold metal ship isn't exactly what Brennan "Rainman" Roth had in mind when he signed up for the Alliance. It sure wasn't glamorous, but he wouldn't give it up for the world. He had come to love his life in the Alliance, and he couldn't think what life would be like without his squadmates.

It was no use; he wasn't going to get any sleep. His chronometer read 03:00 hours. He threw the covers back, getting blasted with icy cold in the process. He put on a nondescript gray flight suit and his boots, and headed down to the "Citizen's Mug," the on-ship lounge.

On the way to the "Mug," he only saw two other people walking around. They weren't people he knew, but on a ship the size of a Nebulon B class Frigate, that wasn't unusual. He entered the mug and spotted the squadron XO, Robert "Kyp" Cashman draining a mug of something at the bar. Rainman walked up to the stool next to him and sat down.

"Oh, hi Rainman," Kyp said, "what are you doing up at this hour?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Rainman replied, "I've got flight duty in two hours and I couldn't sleep."

"Couldn't sleep huh?" asked Rob, "you've been here a while, you shouldn't still be anxious about escort assignments."

"Yeah I know," said Brennan, "I just couldn't sleep, I'm not anxious or anything, just...awake."

"Well, I'm feeling the same way, but I have paperwork to do anyway," joked Kyp.

The bar-droid made his way over to the pair and asked if they needed his assistance with anything. "I'll have whatever he's having," Rainman told the droid.

"One hot chocolate coming up," was the metallic response.

"Well, I've got to go down to the Flight Deck to get some inventory sheets from Pappy," Kyp said, "if you'll excuse me?"

"Sure, have a nice night," said Rainman with a wave of his hand.

Rainman slugged some of his hot chocolate down and sat at the bar, waiting for his flight duty to start. Rainman started at a tap to his shoulder. It was Mark "Redjed" Hagues, resident Jedi Trainee in Red Squadron.

"Hello Rain, what's up?" asked Mark.

"Hi Redjed," said Rainman, "not much here, just waiting for our flight duty. I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep either," remarked Redjed, "I don't know what it is. I thought it was my Jedi Awareness, but if you are feeling it too...strange."

"Yes, I feel it, and I have absolutely no force sensitivity," said Brennan, somewhat jealous of Redjed's abilities with the force. Rainman had always had an intense fascination with the force, but he couldn't feel it to save his life. At least, he thought, he didn't have to worry about all that dark side/light side stuff.

The bar-droid came over again and asked if he could be of service. "I'll have what he's having," Redjed replied.

Rainman and Redjed walked over to their assigned X-wings, parked side by side on the deck. Pappy, the chief mechanic for Red Squadron, was tweaking something or other in the cockpit of Redjed's X-wing.

"These birds ready to fly?" Mark asked Pappy.

"Yep, they sure are," replied the mechanic, "you guys take it easy on these girls, ok?"

"Sure Pappy," said Rainman, "we haven't seen any Imperial activity in weeks."

"Well, you never know," was the reply, "just promise to bring 'em back in one piece."

"We'll do what we can," said Rainman, shooting a glance at Redjed, who grinned. Pappy treated each of the ships as his own child. When one came back damaged, his face looked etched in stone and he took on the grave task of fixing the damage personally.

"Well, time to saddle up," remarked Redjed, glancing at his chronometer. The pilots thanked Pappy for the work he was doing on the ships, both knew that it was him who kept the ships running so well, and their lives depended on it. They climbed up their respective ladders and harnessed themselves in, donning helmets in the process. As cockpits hissed closed, engines fired to life, and soon both X-wings were exiting the hanger.

The two X-wings circled around the Regis and a trio of Corvettes they were escorting to a rendezvous in the Noat System, at a distance of approximately three clicks. The pilots didn't know what the CRVs had as cargo, or what their mission was, but they were used to being kept in the dark about the missions of their charges.

"Well, this is a boring assignment," said Rainman.

"Yeah," Redjed spoke into his commlink, better than KP though."

"You got that right," laughed Rainman. After a two-minute pause he continued, "Well, I'm heading back in, Corran's taking the second half of my duty this morning."

"Why is that?" asked Mark.

"I asked him to, 'cause I have to review training clips today and have a report due to Spectre by 08:00," complained Rainman.

"Wow, that was nice of him," said Redjed.

"I figured he owed me one after beating me out of 50 creds last night at sabaac," joked Brennan.

"I don't know if I 'owed' you one, but I'm always looking for flight time," crackled Corran's voice on the com as his X-wing rose into view in front of the other 2 pilots.

"Hey there Corran, nice to see you," said Mark.

"Hi Corran," greeted Rainman, "you ready to take over?"

"Ready and willing," answered Corran.

"Ok, see you boys later," said Rainman as his ship banked to the right and started toward the Regis.

"Have a nice morning," said Mark.

"You too," was the reply.

Just then a blip appeared on the radars of the three X-wings. An Imperial Star Destroyer was coming into range on the far side of the convoy.

"Looks like we've got a Impstar at 1:00 boys," exclaimed Corran.

"Well looks like where going to earn our pay today," shouted Rainman, "Head over their way Corran, we're right behind you."

"My pleasure," he answered.

"We've got to hold off the fighters until we can get more ships of the deck," offered Redjed.

"Looks like those training clips will have to wait until later," sighed Rainman with a grim face...

The three X-wings kicked extra power to their engines to get them to the Imperial Star Destroyer as fast as possible. Corran's CMD identified the huge ship as the ISD Wisp. A group of six blips appeared on his scope, followed almost immediately by 3 more. The group of six was identified as T/F group Alpha, and the group of three was identified as T/B group Beta.

"This is the Frigate Regis," came a voice from the Comm, "we are making for our hyperspace point. Hold off those ships. This is a priority 1 order."

"Priority 1 is from Alliance High Command!" said Corran, "This is serious."

"Switching to combat frequency delta," came Redjed's voice.

"Looks like we got half a squadron of TIE Fighters and some Bombers on an approach vector with the Regis," crackled Rainman's voice after all three pilots had changed comm frequency.

"Roger that Red 7," said Redjed, "what's the plan of attack?"

"Corran," said Rainman, "Redjed and I will take the Bombers, you take care of the TIE Fighter escorts."

"Copy, 7," replied Corran, "six against one, my kind of odds."

"We'll take your wing for the first pass, but after that, my main concern is the Bombers," noted Rainman.

"Let's do it," said Corran.

The TIE Fighters were nearly in range now. Rainman felt sweat beading up on his hands. He didn't mind combat, but he had no idea what this battle was even about.

The fighters came together with lasers blazing. Corran got the first kill when his first two shots lanced through the cockpit of a TIE Fighter. The fuel ignited, there was no way the pilot survived. Lasers splashed on the Red Squadron pilots' shields. Rainman's outer shield dropped, but the inner ones held. Three more Eyeballs dropped on the first pass. Rainman and Redjed got one each, and Corran got his second.

"The rest are yours Corran," said Rainman, "Let's go get those Dupes Redjed."

Redjed and Rainman's X-wings broke away from Corran's. The three bombers didn't know what hit them. A torpedo from Rainman scored the first hit. Redjed took out the second with lasers. The third bomber got off three torpedoes before he was taken out by a blast from Rainman's guns. They scored a direct hit on the trailing Corvette. In the confusion of battle, the two pilots didn't notice the 4th bomber sneaking up from behind.

"The Bombers are ignoring the Regis," said Redjed.

"I don't know what those Corvettes are carrying," yelled Rainman, "but it must be important."

"We better make sure they survive," shot Redjed.

Just then the fourth bomber struck. A missile hit Rainman from close range. His shields totally dropped.

"Shields are out guys," shouted Rainman.

"Head to the Regis, we'll take care of this mess," replied Redjed.

Rainman turned towards Red Squadron's mother ship and Redjed took out the Bomber that had hit Rainman. He then turned to face the next wave of Bombers that launched from the Wisp.

Meanwhile, Corran had finished off the last two Eyeballs and was working on a second wave that had worked its way through to the convoy. He had polished off one, and was working on a second when it made a 180-degree turn and flew by him. This fighter had noticed Rainman's ship limping toward the Regis. He fired only two shots before Corran shot him down, but this was enough to cause Rainman's ship to explode. Corran detected faint life readings from the area, and surmised that Rainman must have had time to eject. He only hoped he would live long enough for rescue to pick him up. He called for the rescue shuttle, and turned back to the task at hand. Another ship exploded after being hit with Corran's guns.

Redjed fired a laser blast at one of the Bombers and scored a direct hit. The cockpit separated from the warhead launcher and the two halves shot off in different directions. The cockpit half ran into the trailing Bomber. Two for the price of one, thought Redjed.

Suddenly, Redjed lost control of his ship. A missile from the third Bomber had hit him. He spun around wildly and crashed into the Bomber that had hit him. Auto-eject saved his life. The Bomber flew past him, and fired three missiles at a Corvette, the same one that had taken three torpedoes from the earlier Bomber. The Corvette exploded in a ball of brilliant orange gas.

Finally the Regis and the two remaining Corvettes made it to their hyperspace point.

"Red 9," came the Comm officer's voice again, "the rescue shuttles have picked up Red 7 and Red 11. We are entering hyperspace. Proceed to the rendezvous point immediately."

"Copy that Regis," replied Corran. He waited until the Frigate, Corvettes, and Rescue shuttle had entered hyperspace. Then he shot down another TIE Fighter and pulled his own hyperspace lever.

Jeff "Spectre" Mitchell, Red's Commanding Officer looked at Rainman floating unconscious in a bacta bath. He had been submersed for the better part of three days, only coming out for the surgery to his left shoulder and arm, which had been crushed by the shock wave created by the explosion of his ship.

"Please let him pull out of this," thought Spectre, "I don't need to lose a pilot today."

Red Squadron's XO, Robert "Kyp" Cashman walked into the medical center and joined Jeff.

"How is he doing sir?" asked Kyp.

"He's looking better," replied Jeff, "but they don't know how long he is going to be out of commission."

"Hopefully not too long," said Kyp, "I just finished with Corran and Redjed's final debriefing. It appears from their recordings that the Imperials went directly for the Corvettes. They had a battle plan sir. They knew exactly what they wanted, and they knew exactly where to find us." He paused briefly and asked a question that had been bugging him all day, "What were those Corvettes carrying?"

"I don't know," said Spectre, "when I asked, I was told it was a priority 1 order and not to question it. But I feel responsible for my pilots. Before any more get shot down, I'm going to find out."

Neill "Ranger" Mcgill sat at the bar drinking some concoction that the bar droid had recommended to him, saying that it was a favorite among humans of the Adrandda System. He didn't find it very good. Michael "Wildcat" Baker, Red Squadron's newest pilot walked up and sat next to him.

"I'll have a Full Throttle," said Wildcat, nodding to Ranger.

"Hi Wildcat," said Ranger, "what's up?"

"Not much," replied Wildcat, "just killing some time before I go run some more tests on the ESIM."

The E-wing Simulator, or ESIM for short, was Michael's current project. He was pushing for the Alliance to start training it's pilots in the E-wing, and figured that Red Squadron was the best place to start, since it was a training squadron.

"Ah, still fleshing it out eh?" asked Ranger.

"Sure am," answered Wildcat, "something is wrong with the throttle, I can't get it to work like it should."

"Attention Red Squadron pilots," came a voice from the intercom over the bar, "please report to briefing room C."

Ranger and Wildcat looked at each other. Ranger shrugged and both pilots made their way out the door.

All Red Squadron's pilots that were not currently assigned were gathered into the briefing room. The pilots in the room were Steve "Rapier" Naylor, Ali "Corran" Winston and Mark "Redjed" Hagues, fresh from debriefing, Wildcat and Ranger, Kelly "Zoom" St. Clair and Red Squadron's command staff, Kyp and Spectre. Spectre began briefing them as soon as the pilots were all seated.

"Well boys," he began, "looks like we're going out on a mission. The recent attack on the Corvettes we were escorting was apparently not just a random attack. Alliance High Command has sent word that the Corvettes were carrying a VIP. According to them, the man they were carrying was Bodo Plath. You probably haven't heard of him, but he is a ship designer from Teegra VII. Apparently he is working on a top-secret design for the rebel alliance. So far all I could do was get the name of the ship, the K-wing. I have no idea what class of ship it is, but apparently it is going to be a great addition to the alliance forces. It is in pre production right now, so it won't go online for another two to three years. It seems to be important to the Empire that this project does not reach completion," Jeff paused to let this sink in, "Plath survived the attack, as he wasn't on the Corvette that was destroyed. We don't want Plath to be scared off thinking that we can't protect him. We will be launching a retaliatory strike within the hour. Rob, the floor is yours."

Kyp stepped forward and motioned to the holo-screen behind him. "This is Imperial Outpost A-56. This is a staging area for the Empires activities near in the Teegra system. We have received information from the Bothans informing us that four Corellian Corvettes and a number of Imperial Gunboats guard it. The Corvettes are being fitted with laser cannons before they are distributed to various sectors. Therefore, we don't expect them to be much trouble. We have a limited time for this strike. The outposts' Star Destroyer is going to hyper out, and a replacement will hyper in. We have seven minutes to get in and destroy the outpost. I don't mean disable or injure, I mean completely destroy. We must take out all the Corvettes and the communications satellites. The gunboats are a secondary target. We will split up into three groups for this mission. Flight group A will consist of Spectre with Wildcat and Zoom. Group B will consist of Myself flying with Redjed and Corran, and Group C will consist of Rapier with Ranger. Groups A and B will be flying X-wings, Group C will fly A-wings, and will provide escort for Groups A and B. Are there any questions?"

No one had any questions, they all knew what they were being asked to do. They would fly a deep strike mission deep in Imperial territory.

"No questions?" asked Kyp, "then do what you must to get ready and meet on the flight deck in thirty minutes. May the Force be With You."

The last pilot had just strapped into their ship when the order came from Spectre for the pilots to launch. Six X-wings and a pair of A-wings entered space and got into escort position around the Regis. When all pilots had fully charged shields and lasers, they entered the coordinates of the Imperial Outpost and entered hyperspace. Four hours later, they exited hyperspace and prepaired to engage the Imperials...

Chapter 4

Eight sleek starfighters, followed closely by the massive axe-shape of a Nebulon-B frigate, appeared in a section of space that had been vacant moments before. Their arrival was immediately noted by the Imperial assault gunboats that swarmed like hornets around their hive. As their commander barked orders, the patrolling craft swung around to intercept the intruders.

Flying point, Rapier peered at his A-wing's sensors. "Red Leader, I count… looks like nine GUNs coming our way." He glanced briefly over his right shoulder at his wingman. This would be Ranger's first taste of real combat, and he hoped for both their sakes he was up to it.

"Copy, Red 3. Okay, people; lock your S-foils in position and accelerate to attack speed. Watch out for the gunboats, but remember what we came for." Spectre adjusted his ELS settings, charging the lasers even as he dumped power to the shields. "Kyp, we'll keep them off your backs while you go for the corvettes."

"Copy that. We're on it." Kyp's voice was calm as he addressed the other pilots in his flight. "Corran, you take the one on the left; Redjed, you take the right." He lined his own crosshairs up on a third corvette and set his torpedoes to dual fire. The targeting scope swung out from behind his seat and locked in place. He adjusted it slightly as the range reeled down.

As Kyp's group began their torpedo run, the A-wings were coming into range of the gunboats. The LOCK light at the top of Ranger's console began to pulse warningly. He gulped and tried to stay calm, to remember his training. Even shields double-front wouldn't save him from multiple concussion missiles; his only hope lay in using his fighter's superior speed and maneuverability to evade them.

The light went a steady red, and seconds later a horn sounded in the small cockpit of the A-wing. Ranger flinched but held his course. He could see the orange dot of the incoming missiles, as well as the tiny points of light that were the enemy, drifting against the starfield. He forced himself to look down at the CMD instead. At the last second before impact Ranger yanked the stick to one side, throwing the fighter into a hard turn. The missile whipped past and tried to come around, but the little interceptor was too quick.

Before he had time to relax or congratulate himself, the nearest pair of gunboats released a storm of green laser fire at him. Ranger fell into the rhythm he'd practiced in the simulator, bobbing and weaving around the worst of it as he tried to get on someone's tail to return the favor.

Formations dissolved into the chaos of combat as the two sides met. Spectre's flight broke in three different directions, trying to distract the defending heavy fighters. The two A-wings were already zooming in and out of the dogfight, making slashing attacks with their lasers as they passed. Meanwhile, Kyp's flight cruised almost serenely through the melee.

"I've got tone…" announced Corran, peering into his scope. His finger tightened on the trigger and a slight shudder passed through the X-wing. "Red 9, torpedoes running!" Moments later he felt the 'clunk' of the next pair of torpedoes dropping into the launch tubes and sent them after the first two.

Kyp fired two torpedoes as well, then had to evade as a gunboat's lasers sought him. He tried to get back on target, but the imperial pilot was persistent and his fire was starting to score hits. Snarling in frustration, Kyp was finally forced to break off and turn to engage. For a moment he entertained the idea of lobbing a single unguided torpedo into the enemy's belly as he swept by, but reason prevailed and he flipped the selector switch back to lasers.

Spectre took a moment to survey the battle as his first opponent became a ball of plasma and metal shards. A number of blue streaks were receding rapidly into the distance, headed for the corvette group. Most of his pilots were locked in duels with gunboats. A concussion missile flew across his flight path and slammed into the back of a gunboats, punching through the shields and sending it into a fatal tumble. Then, throbbing of his LOCK indicator told him he'd watched for long enough Spectre pulled up hard, searching for the foe that was taking aim at him.

"Yeah!" gloated Corran as the last of his torpedoes struck his target corvette amidships, setting off a few secondary explosions that were quickly consumed in the larger fireball of the reactor going critical. "That one's from Rainman!"

"Watch it, Wildcat, you've picked one up!"

Wildcat threw his stick back and forth but the GUN clung doggedly to his six, a series of shots hammering at his rear shields. He was forced to empty his laser capacitors entirely to reinforce them. The jolting abruptly stopped, and he risked a glance backward: his attacker was breaking off and swooping away as red bolts came at it from different angles. "Thanks, guys."

The Imperial pilots were good, many of them aces. But the odds were even, now that Redjed and Corran had fired all of their torpedoes and joined the fray, and the superiority of the Rebel fighters was beginning to tell. The A-wings harried the slow gunboats while the X-wing went toe to toe with them. Soon the flight leader decided to call for reinforcements.

Kyp's R2 chirped as three new blips appeared on his sensors. He peered at his CMD and announced, "More gunboats, coming in. Three at 210 mark 4."

"I see them," Spectre confirmed. "Anyone with torpedoes left, close with the corvettes and finish them. The rest of us will cover you."

"Copy, Red Leader."

"Copy that."

The dogfight began to drift in the direction of the corvettes, as gunboats chased after the X-wings that had broken off and the rest of Red Squadron pursued them in turn.

"Someone get this guy off me," Zoom complained as he waggled the nose of his X-wing through a figure-8, trying to stay lined up on a corvette despite the fire coming at him from behind.

"Zoom, break right!"

Zoom did as he was told, giving up his torpedo lock, as the blunt arrowhead of an A-wing flashed by his left wing with lasers firing. Rapier grinned savagely as he bore down on the gunboat, switching to missiles and dumb-firing a pair of them right at the cockpit, then pitching down sharply. The gunboat exploded as he swept underneath with a few meters to spare.

"Thanks, Rapier."

"Nice one, Red 3."

"Shields are down on this corvette… Wildcat, form on my wing and we'll finish it with lasers."

"You got it, Red Leader. Attacking your target."

Quad laser burned deep trenches in the unprotected hull of the corvette, damaging vital systems. The hull was breached in several places. Escape pods scattered like seeds as the corvette lost helm control and began to roll over. Finally the engines overloaded and blew the whole stern off. Debris pinged harmlessly off the shields of the X-wings.

The mission clock read 7:02 when, with typical Imperial punctuality, everyone's hyperspace alarms went off. The massive wedge of an Imperial Star Destroyer loomed to the rear, coasting into position near the remain of the staging area. Both sides redoubled their efforts: the gunboats encouraged by the arrival of reinforcements, the Rebels determined to finish the job and get out.

Without turbolasers installed, the final corvette was defenseless against the strafing runs of the Rebel starfighters. They circled and pounced like wolves. The end came soon enough, as the ship was struck by multiple dumb-fired proton torpedoes and ceased to exist with a flash that made canopies darken for an instant.

Spectre allowed himself a tight smile as the corvette blew, that immediately became a frown as Eddie, his R2 droid, reported that the ISD had launched a group of TIE Interceptors. Someone there had figured out what was going on. "Time for us to be going, gentlemen. Someone take out those comm-sats and we'll be done."

"I'm on it!" Zoom piped up. He turned away from the gunboat he'd been chasing and lined up on the white blips, going full throttle. His former target tried to drop on his tail, but was destroyed by the combined fire of Ranger and Corran.

Zoom was so intent on destroying the comm sats that he didn't pay attention to his high rate of closure. His wing lasers spat red-orange beams at the tight cluster of satellites. Two exploded in quick succession. Nice of the Empire to place them so close together, he thought.

He was less than a klick away now and his R2 was hooting insistently, but he couldn't spare the time to look down at his console. Another comm sat blew up and Zoom wondered if he'd gotten them all. Then the flash from the destroyed satellite's small fuel cell faded and, in a moment of perfect clarity, he saw the last one coming right at his canopy.

If not for his doubled shields, Zoom might have bought the farm right there. As it was, there was a horrible jolt as the X-wing slammed into the comm sat, not unlike the feeling of running into a brick wall. Zoom had instinctively thrown up his arm to save himself,; the gesture, while mostly futile, did protect him from a shower of sparks as his ELS panel shorted out. His R2 unit wailed.

"Zoom! Kelly, are you okay?"

Zoom realized that if he was hearing Spectre's voice over the radio, he probably wasn't dead. He opened his eyes and blinked. His forward shields were completely gone, but the X-wing itself seemed mostly intact, if a bit scorched. His hand mechanically went through the familiar task of rebalancing the shields and dumping all his laser power to them.

"Yeah… I'm here, I'm all right."

"That's it, you got them all! See you at the rendezvous point." Spectre brought his craft around in a wide loop and picked off a gunboat that had dropped in on Redjed's six. "Red Leader to Red Group, all fighters disengage and jump to lightspeed."

Kyp stayed latched to a gunboat's tail, hammering at it with a steady stream of fire. "Jeff, I'd like to hang around a moment and finish off these GUNs…" His target came apart, the explosion sending the wings spinning off into the void.

Spectre considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "Too risky now that the Star Destroyer's launching fighters." He jinked as a few green bolts shot past his canopy. "We've completed the mission objectives. Let's go home."

Kyp frowned but double-clicked his mike, acknowledging Spectre's order. He broke free of the fight and headed for clear space.

One by one the members of Red Squadron fled, streaking into the distance and vanishing. Spectre was the last; he flipped the switch to close his S-foils, waited a few seconds for them to lock in position, and pulled the lever. The stars rushed toward him and he was gone.

[Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer]

Captain Treyvas Gant paced the bridge of his ship, the ISD Terrible, and fumed. They had arrived at Outpost A-56 a few minutes ago as part of their regular patrol schedule, only to find Rebel starfighters shooting up the place. Worse, the Rebels and their command frigate had gotten away clean after completely destroying the staging area.

A lieutenant approached timidly, having no desire to be the target of his commander's wrath. "Sir, we've recovered the last of our fighters and several escape pods. The surviving gunboats have returned to base."

"Of course," Gant confirmed bitterly. "There's nothing left here for them to defend." He turned. "Detail a shuttle to place a new comm sat and lay a small minefield around it. I doubt the Rebels will return here, but best to be sure." The junior officer nodded and hurried to obey.

Gant returned to his restless pacing. He wanted to know who had done this to an outpost under his protection. "Any word from communications?"

One of the pit crew put a hand to his headset as he spoke. "Yes, sir. They've completed the analysis of the transmission picked up during the battle. There are several reference to 'red'… almost certainly Red Squadron, sir."

"Red Squadron," the captain gritted. Outside the bridge widows, the skeletal remains of one of the destroyed corvettes drifted by.

"Get me Sector Command. Those rebels will pay for this."

Rainman was sitting up in bed reading, a clean bandage wrapped around his shoulder, when the small group of pilots entered the medical bay. Corran was in the lead, followed by Zoom and Rapier, with Kyp bringing up the rear. All were smiling.

"Hey Brennan! How're you doing?"

Rainman looked up. "Oh, hi guys… the shoulder's still a little sore, but the 2-1B says I can get out of this bed tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be back on the flight line pretty soon. So what's up?"

"We just gave the Empire some payback, that's what," crowed Corran. "Four corvettes, ten assault gunboats and a bloody nose. Wish you could've been there, man."

Rainman chuckled. "Thanks. Everyone get back okay?"

Kyp nodded. "Though I thought Pappy might kill Zoom when he saw how he'd banged up his X-wing."

The other pilots chuckled while Zoom flushed with embarrassment. "It wasn't that bad… I just got a little excited."

Rapier patted Zoom on the shoulder. "We know. Just remember, ramming is not recommended as a tactic, not even against mines or comm sats."

"I know. I'll be more careful next time, honest."

"Glad to hear it." Rapier took on a more serious tone. "We've been lucky so far; non of you youngsters have ever lost a wingman. But luck can't last, and being reckless can get you killed out there."

Everyone was quiet for a moment as they considered Rapier's words. "But sometimes, you have to take risks to win," Corran finally observed.

Rapier smiled and nodded. "Risk is our business. Three to ones odds, for starters. Some risks are necessary, while others are just stupid. Unfortunately, we can't really teach the difference in the sims."

"Getting all philosophical in your old age, Steve?" jibed Kyp. "Next you'll be telling us how it was when you were Red Leader…"

Rapier chuckled. "Well, as a former Red Leader, I know that Spectre doesn't want to fill out any KIA forms. So be careful and do unto Imps before they do unto you, okay?"

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the medical droid. It cocked its roughly humanoid head at the visitors and said, "Excuse me, sirs. You'll have to leave now; Captain Roth needs to rest."

"I guess I do go on." Rapier shook his head as Kyp began herding the other pilots out of the med-bay. "Get well soon, Rainman. We miss you."

"Thank you, sir."

Two days later, Red Squadron was again assembled in one of the Regis's briefing rooms. Spectre stood at the front, next to the large wall-screen. As the last of the pilots filed in and sat down, he began to speak.

"This war is heating up, folks. We have reports of ground fighting and uprisings on several planets in the last few weeks. The bad news is, this means lots of casualties and wounded. Alliance stocks of bacta and other vital medical supplies are critically low. Normally the Alliance would buy these things on the black market, but one of our major suppliers had recently been shut down and we haven't had time to arrange a new shipment."

There was a murmuring among the pilots. "What about what we have here on the Regis?" asked Bryan "Fox" Haynes, Red 5.

"A shuttle left this morning with whatever we could spare, which wasn't much. Other posts are doing the same. But it won't be enough if this fighting continues... and we have every reason to think it will."

"High Command has ruled out theft of the items we need from civilian organizations. The Alliance needs friends almost as desperately as it needs these supplies. Stealing from a hospital or the Bacta Cartel would endanger many innocent lives and cost us much goodwill. It's just not the sort of thing we do."

For the first time in the breiefing, a smile crept onto Spectre's face. "So we're going to steal from the Empire instead."

He turned to the wall screen, which came on as the lights dimmed automatically. The screen showed a double column of red icons representing bulk freighters, ten in all. Near the top of the screen was a nav buoy, identified by a forgettable code number. At the bottom, trailing the convoy, was the red dumbbell of an Imperial frigate.

"Eleven hours from now, an Imperial Navy convoy will be passing through this sector on its way to resupply a garrison in the Outer Rim. The convoy is being escorted by the FRG Sentinel, with a full complement of starfighters. What makes this convoy so attractive to us is that one of the freighters is known to be carrying a full load of the medical supplies we need."

The map grid shifted, and two green starfighter icons appeared off to one side. " Our plan is to arrive shortly before the convoy drops out of hyperspace to change course for its next leg. Two X-wings will handle the fighter cover while two Y-wings identify and disable the target freighter." Another icon blinked into existence beside the Rebel fighters: a green transport. "Once the freighter has been disabled, TRN Brick will arrive to board and capture it. Protect the freighter until it hypers out, then return home."

Spectre turned back to the seated pilots. "Questions?"

"What about the other freighters?" asked Corran. "Do we just let them go?"

Spectre nodded. "Capturing the freighter carrying the meds is our primary objective. Leave the other freighters alone once you've located the target. Definitely don't disable them; you might confuse the boarding party."

"Anything else? All right. I'll be flying the lead X-wing. Rapier, I want you on my wing for this one."

Rapier nodded. "Sure thing, Jeff."

Spectre returned the nod, then scanned the rest of the group. "I'll also need two pilots to fly the Y-wings."

Zoom made a sour face, but his neighbor, Wildcat, raised a hand. "I've always felt a good pilot can excel in any craft. Count me in." He grinned back at Zoom, who just looked more disgusted.

"Okay, who else?"

A hand went up from the back row. "How about me?" asked Yves "Carcajou" Vermette. "Seems like forever since I went on a mission. I could use some action."

"I think we can arrange that." Spectre chuckled. "See you three in the hangar at 1500, then. Dismissed."

Four silhouettes darted out of hyperspace against the brilliant starfield. Two cumbersome Y-Wings and their X-Wing counterparts formed up. Tension developed as the wait for the Imperial convoy began.

"Looks like we arrived a little early," stated Yves "Carcajou" Vermette. "They'll be along," reassured Michael "Wildcat" Baker.

"Cut the chatter you two!" snapped Spectre. "Rapier, lock S-foils into attack position."

No sooner than the words came out of Spectre's mouth then two red blips appeared on his sensor array. The four fighters banked in unison ready to engage their newly arrived foe. As they approached the Assault Gunboats ten more red blips appeared on the scopes.

"Wildcat, take Carcajou with you and do a sweep on the freighters. Find and disable the freighter carrying the Bacta. Rapier and I will engage the escorts".

"Message understood Boss. Carcajou, let's go Bacta hunting!"

The two Y-wings broke formation and started heading towards the freighters.

Then, all of a sudden Rapier's R2 unit went wild with excitement. He searched his scopes looking for a malfunction. Then all of a sudden he could see why his R2 was so alarmed! Bearing down on his position came the formidable presence of an Imperial frigate.

"Pull up 3! Pull up!" Spectre screamed to his counterpart. Rapier gripped the control stick and yanked back as hard as he could, his knuckles turning white from the vice-like grip. The X-wing began to point its nose up and the foreboding sight of the frigate consumed the view of Rapiers cockpit. The ship spiralled its way upwards, narrowly averting certain death.

"Rapier, are you alright?" asked Spectre.

"I'm just a little shook, Jeff. That was way too close for my liking."

"Agreed. Red 4 hurry up and ID the freighter. We don't want to spend more time here then necessary" ordered Spectre.

"Yes Sir," said Wildcat "Red 8, Yves cover me while I ID the freighters."

The Y-wing wasn't perhaps the most nimble of ships and one could understand Zoom's hesitation for not going on this mission. Most of Red's pilots preferred the popular X-wings and A-wings and tried to avoid the Y-wing at all costs. Not Wildcat though, where the A-wing has superior speed and the X-wing a well-balanced fighter, the Y-wing's forte is the ability to quickly disable a ship - something you can't do without ion cannons. Anyway it was a good enough excuse to get some more flying time!

Wildcat banked towards the freighters and made a couple of runs up and down the column. "Red 8, this is Red 4 I've got Bacta in Freighter Solace. Switch to Ions and disable the target."

Meanwhile Spectre and Rapier were carving up the escorts. They had cleared the first group of two GUNs when a replacement wave showed up. "Must be a System Patrol Squadron somewhere nearby," Spectre said. "Rapier, I'll take the leader. Cover me." Spectre banked his X-wing around to face the new arrivals. Closing in to nearly point-blank range, Spectre intuitively switched to dual torps and fired. The gunboat pilot had little chance at that close range. His craft exploded in his face and the characteristic star-wings careened into the space.

Suddenly the Imperials must have sensed they were losing the battle as one flight of TIE Fighters and another of TIE Interceptors decided to join the fray.

"Red Leader target disabled. Repeat target disabled."

"Roger that Mike. You and Yves stay with the freighter. Transport Brick should arrive any moment. Make sure the freighter is captured intact."

"Understood Boss."

About a minute later the Alliance transport Brick entered the area and the Imperials had taken notice. One of the TIE Fighters had broken from the ensuing melee and headed directly for the transport. "This is Transport Brick commencing capture operation. Red Leader, a bandit is heading our way can you intercept it?"

"Copy Brick. Rapier is move to intercept. Ill keep the fighters occupied while you knock out that eyeball."

"Save some for me when I get back," Rapier replied. He directed all available power to the engines and sped towards the TIE. The lone fighter was just in range of the transport and managed to squeeze of a few rounds of laser fire when a single quad shot of orange lasers incinerated the TIE's cockpit and sent the wings careening off into space. "Transport Brick, you're clear," said Rapier.

"Copy Rapier, just keep the fighters off my back."

"Rapier, form up. Wildcat, take Carcajou and engage the rest of the freighters; we've got the fighters covered."

"Copy Red Leader. Yves we are going to take out as many of the freighters as we can. Do not attack Freighter Solace. Copy that?"

There was no response. "Red 8 do you copy?" Wildcat quickly flicked through the CMD to find Carcajou entering hyperspace. "Red Leader, come in. Jeff, I've lost Yves; he's hypered out. He wouldn't answer my call."

"Roger Mike. Look, do the best you can until the freighter is captured. We'll keep the Fighters at bay."

"Alright, time to spread some mayhem," Wildcat thought. He banked his Y-wing towards the left bringing it up one of freighters in his target reticle. Switching to dual torps, he fired two salvos and then switched back to lasers to finish it. He was about to turn to line up another freighter when two more Assault Gunboats popped out of hyperspace right behind him. Spectre and Rapier were too busy dealing with TIEs to call for assistance. A concussion missile buffeted his shields.

"Okay boys, let's see how well the Imperial Academy trains its pilots these days!"

Shunting all available power into the engines Wildcat dove in amongst the freighters with a pair of Gunboats in pursuit. He was twisting and turning, in and out amongst the freighters in a deadly game of follow the leader. The lead gunboat misjudged the turn and crashed at full speed into a freighter. "One down." Turning his Y-wing around the hunted became the hunter and pursued the Imperial. Stalking - laser fire - explosion. The gunboat was destroyed.

"Docking operation complete, entering hyperspace." With that the enormous freighter and the transport shot into hyperspace.

"This is Red Leader, we've got what we came for. Repeat, all fighters pull out."

Each of the pilots punched the hyperdrive button and the familiar streaks of hyperspace lines appeared. As his X-wing lurched into hyperspace, Spectre thought to himself, "This was too easy."

A lone figure was watching the ensuing battle from the bridge when a young Lieutenant approached him. "Sir, the rebels have just entered hyperspace."

"Did they capture the poisoned bacta?"

"Yes Captain, we are also getting tracking data from the Homing Beacon."

"Excellent work. Inform Captain Damerra aboard the Star Destroyer Wisp that the bait has been taken."

"At once sir."

"Soon Red Squadron will pay for their insolence."

[FRG Regis: Hangar Bay]

Wildcat climbed out of his Y-wing and stormed over to Carcajou. "What the hell were you thinking of? Pulling out of the mission like that without a word and leaving me in the lurch!"

Yves said nothing in reply but the fury was building in Wildcat. Spectre and Rainman could see what was happening and quickly rushed over.

"What's going on" Spectre inquired.

"I am asking a few questions about Yves' mission performance, Sir."

Well, settle down Mike. I am sure Yves has a reason but now is not the time or the place. Understood?"

"But...!"

"Understood?"

"...yes sir."

Allen "Assassin" Williams was perhaps the most studious of all the Flight Cadets that had ever entered the training wing. He enjoyed sitting and talking with the members of Red Squadrons pilots in the "Citizens Mug". He learned a lot more from the pilots then any sim could teach him. Corran and Rainman showed him the importance of teamwork and loyalty while Spectre and Kyp provided the inspiration of leadership. Wildcat provided some tips on combat tactics over their games of Sabaac. But of all the pilots it was Redjed, the Regis' resident Jedi trainee, who provided the most important aspect to his "training" - balance. Redjed took it upon himself to teach Assassin the calming influence of the Force. His meditation sessions gave Assassin a much-needed perspective on the Galaxy.

Assassin was sitting in the simulators taking part in Rainman's rehabilitation. He sat in the cockpit of a TIE Avenger or "Advanced" as it was more commonly referred to. Rainman, on the other hand, was in an X-Wing trying merely to survive. Assassin rolled onto Rainmans tail and quickly dumb fired two concussion missiles. The X-Wing erupted in a ball of flames.

Inside Rainman's cockpit he saw the Imperial Pilot swoop behind his own fighter. The next thing he knew, everything in the simulator was blood red.

"Shoulder still getting at you Rain?"

"Yeah, but I still can't believe you got me with those missiles. Did you even get a lock?"

"Nope, dumb fired them! You wouldn't believe how many Rebel Pilots I killed with that trick... Sorry, I mean, well I'm still kinda used to the Imps. Oh, by the way, I've got some more simulator clips for you to review..."

At that moment, their comms crackled to life. "All pilots report to Briefing Room 2, right now!"

Rainman spoke up, "I'll view 'em later. Come on, Allen. Let's see what this is all about."

The pilots had gathered in the briefing room when Assassin and Rainman entered. Spectre approached the lectern. "Men, I would like to introduce my new adjutant Cadet Chris Jarvis. I've requested an Aide from Alliance High Command to handle some of the paperwork that goes into running this squadron. He will be handling all the flight assignments from now on." There was a pause and then Spectre motioned the Holoprojector to life.

"Three minutes ago two Imperial-class Star Destroyers came out of hyperspace one on each side of the Regis. Rapier and Corran were on patrol at the time and are moving to intercept the fighters. We are mobilising the squadron while the Regis and the freighter Solace to make a run into hyperspace. We sent out a distress signal before the jamming field was put in place but it is unknown how quickly reinforcements will arrive. Until they do protect the Regis at all costs. Cadet Jarvis, what are the flight assignments?"

Eager to impress on his first day, the young recruit approached the lectern. "The flight assignments will consist of three X-wing elements and three A-wing elements. The first X-wing element consisting of Corran and Rapier has already launched. The second will consist of Kyp and Rainman while Redjed and Ranger will pilot the third. Spectre and Fox will head up the first of the A-wings, Zoom and Carcajou pilot the second while Wildcat and Gargoyle pilot the third."

Rainman raised a hand, "Sir, I am still not one hundred percent medically fit. You may have to find a replacement for me."

Jarvis was slightly red-faced. "Do you have a replacement in mind?"

"Well, no, but Assassin has shown much promise in the sims."

"Who?"

"That would be me sir, I'm registered as a trainee though," Assassin spoke up tentatively.

"Slightly irregular but if Spectre doesn't object you will be on Kyp's wing. If there is nothing else, man your fighters."

As the pilots started filing out of the room Assassin walked up to Rainman. "Are you sure I'm ready for this? I mean I'm barely halfway done with my training."

"Just remember what I've taught you, draw on the strength of what I and others have taught you and you'll do fine. Now get to an X-Wing before it leaves without you!"

With that Assassin joined the other pilots donning their flight suits and helmets. Nestling in the X-wing's seat he switched on the Comm. "Assassin, this is Kyp, stay on my wing and follow my orders to the letter. And don't get cocky whatever you do."

[On the bridge of the Frigate Regis]

Klaxons sounded everywhere throughout the Regis. Every person aboard sensed the dire situation at hand and the tension level on the ship was the highest it had ever been. On the bridge, Captain Daly stared intently at the tactical display in front of him. The situation was worse than he thought. The two Star Destroyers had put four squadrons of TIEs into space and they were all converging on the Regis. Strangely though, no TIE Bombers had been launched. A half dozen Assault Gunboats had arrived out of hyperspace just recently, but they seemed to be on intercept vectors for Red Squadron. The Captain had ordered the entire fighter complement of the Regis into the battle. Half of Red Squadron would be kept back within three kilometers of home base, to act as a forward screen, while the remainder would try to destroy as many TIEs and GUNs as possible further out. He prayed that Spectre and his pilots could buy them enough time to escape before they were all overwhelmed and destroyed.

"Navigation, put the fastest route out of here on the tactical display please," the Captain ordered. After a short pause, a series of waypoints appeared. "Good. Helm, follow the course that has just been plotted, flank speed," the Captain said, returning to his chair. "Weapons, set the warhead launcher to autofire. All weapons free, engage at maximum range. Tactical, I want constant position updates on those Impstars. If either or both move so much as a micron in this direction I want to know about it. Communications, contact the Captain of the Eldar and tell him to follow us at his best possible speed." As he sat down, he glanced back at the tactical display and noted that Red Squadron had engaged the lead elements of the Imperial fighter swarm. He smiled with satisfaction as several of the TIE symbols disappeared off the map.

The scene outside the Regis could only be described as frenzied. Volleys of green and red laser fire were everywhere. The lead TIE formations had been engaged and ravaged by the Rebel fighters. Still, the situation seemed grim. Red Squadron was badly outnumbered.

In the cockpit of his X-Wing, Spectre quickly scanned his map display after vaping his second TIE Fighter. As he assessed the situation, he shook his head. He couldn't recall ever being in a fight quite as intense as this one was turning out to be. It was almost as if the Imperial fighters had a vendetta against Red Squadron. Keying his map further back, he was gratified to see that the Regis had turned and was heading away from the battle area.

"Rapier, you still there?" he called to his wingman.

"Right with ya boss," Rapier called back jovially.

"You're certainly in a good mood," Spectre answered.

"You bet sir, my kill ratio is going through the roof!" Rapier joked.

"No kidding. What's your status?" Spectre asked.

"Shields good, lasers supercharged, no hull damage, full warhead load. I'd say I'm in decent shape," Rapier responded, quickly checking his systems.

"Good, you've noticed that the Star Destroyers appear to be sitting pretty and not attacking?" Spectre asked.

"Yes sir, I noticed that. What have you got in mind?" Rapier said, knowing the answer.

"Feel up to bagging a Star Destroyer today?" Spectre asked.

"Lead the way boss," was the answer. The two fighters formed up and accelerated toward the closest Imperial capital ship.

Meanwhile, Kyp and Assassin were in an intense dogfight with several Assault Gunboats. They had carved through several waves and as a result had prevented them from getting within warhead range of the Regis, but the waves kept coming unceasingly.

"Assassin, what's your status?" Kyp called as he flew through the expanding debris field of the gunboat he had just killed.

"I'm here sir, 0.75 klicks behind you. I'm pretty busy right now. This guy on me is good," Assassin said as he turned and weaved, trying to shake the Imperial pilot who was attempting to get a missile lock.

"You're doing great kid, keep it up," Kyp answered, banking his fighter around and acquiring Assassin's target. "Let me soften him up for you," he said, switching his weapon system to missile mode. He lined up directly aft of the enemy pilot, who seemed totally oblivious to his presence. Kyp smiled as he got a red lock and solid tone. "Here's one up your ass my friend," he said, squeezing the trigger. His A-Wing shuddered briefly as a single concussion missile rocketed away from the launch tube. The warhead immediately acquired its quarry and slammed into the gunboat, vaporizing it's rear shields. The pilot threw his fighter into an evasive pattern. "He's all yours Assassin," Kyp said, banking left and seeking a new target.

"Thanks sir, consider him toast," Assassin replied.

On the other side of the Regis, near the second Star Destroyer, the battle raged as well. Zoom and Wildcat were racking up their share of kills. The two pilots had formed a symbiotic relationship during this fight. Zoom would pick a target and pursue it relentlessly until it was destroyed while Wildcat guarded his six. Then, they switched places and repeated the procedure. Together, they had eliminated the entire first wave of TIE Interceptors and were working on the second. They had gradually worked themselves closer to the second Star Destroyer, eliminating the TIEs before they could become a threat to the Regis.

Zoom sat in the cockpit of his A-Wing and quickly keyed on his map display. For the moment, the space in their immediate vicinity was clear of TIEs. He called to Wildcat.

"Red 4, I show us as all clear for the moment," he said.

"Copy Red 6, I concur. Wait, I've just shown another six T/Is on the way, 4.5 klicks."

"I see them, Wildcat. What say we take this battle to the mothership? I've got a full warhead load," Zoom suggested.

Let's do it Zoom. You take the lead. We'll engage T/I Alpha 1 on the way in, I'll cover you," Wildcat said, bringing up T/I Alpha 2 on his CMD. The two A-Wings accelerated towards the Star Destroyer and the incoming TIEs.

As the Regis steadily made its way out of the battle area and closer to its jump point, Corran and Redjed turned to engage another wave of Assault Gunboats that had just arrived. The two pilots were part of the fighter screen that had stayed close to their command ship.

"Redjed, this is Corran, I show three GUNs exiting hyperspace 2.75 klicks ahead. You take Mu 2, I'll take Mu 1," Corran ordered crisply as he banked over and acquired the lead gunboat.

"Roger Red 9, Red 7 moving to engage," Redjed responded, turning his fighter in the same direction. As he closed the distance between himself and the enemy ships, he switched his lasers over to dual fire and checked that they were supercharged. As soon as his targeting crosshairs went green, he snapped off several shots. The Imperial gunboat opened fire at exactly the same instant, causing Redjed to break into a corkscrew maneuver. The bulk of the laser fire missed him, but several bolts splashed on his forward shields. As the two groups of fighters passed each other, Redjed caught an explosion out of the corner of his eye. Gunboat Mu 3 had taken a concussion missile hit from the Regis. The enemy ship spun wildly out of control but managed to return to a steady course. He bored on past Corran and Redjed and resumed his attack run.

"Corran, Mu 3 has escaped, he's getting into warhead range," Redjed called.

"Copy Red 7. Stay on your target. The Regis will get him."

Captain Daly watched the tactical map intently from his command chair. They were nearing their last waypoint. Miraculously, none of the enemy fighters had survived long enough to get into a position to launch warheads.

"Navigation, are the jump calculations complete?" the Captain asked, turning to the navigator.

"Yes sir, we're all set," replied the young ensign at the navigation console.

"Good, transmit the calculations to the Eldar and to the fighters." Captain Daly added. The navigation officer nodded and pressed several additional buttons on his console. "Communications, open a channel to Red Leader."

"Aye, aye sir." After a short pause, the comm officer announced, "Channel open now."

"Red Leader, this is home plate," the Captain said.

"Go Regis," Spectre answered.

"Spectre, we've just transmitted jump coordinates to you and your pilots. Wait until we've left the area and then follow us out. Understood?"

"Copy Sir, Red Leader out," came the reply. Captain Daly looked back at the tactical map and noted they had reached their jump point.

"Helm, all stop. Let the Eldar pass us and go first," he ordered. Slowly but surely, the bulk freighter caught up with and passed the Regis. It slowed for a brief instant as its hyperdrive motivator came online. Then, it shot into infinity. "Ok then, it's our turn. Let's get out of here," the Captain said. With that, the big frigate leapt from a standstill and disappeared along the same path the freighter had taken.

Spectre noted the departure of the Regis as he finished engaging a TIE Interceptor that had been dogging him for the last few minutes. Neither he nor Rapier had been able to initiate their planned attack on the Star Destroyer. It just kept sending out wave after wave of TIEs and to make matters worse, fresh packs of Assault Gunboats kept arriving out of hyperspace. Briefly consulting his map to get an idea of where the rest of the squadron was at, he noticed that Zoom and Wildcat had the same idea he had and were attempting to attack the other Star Destroyer. Everyone else seemed locked in vicious furballs with multiple opponents.

Spectre decided that the time to leave was at hand. It was pretty clear that the Empire was attempting to utterly destroy his squadron. They had beaten the odds so far, but luck had a nasty habit of changing suddenly. As if to echo his thoughts, his threat warning indicator announced the arrival of new threats. Several TIE Advanced starfighters had just launched from the Star Destroyer ahead. It was most definitely time to leave.

"Attention Red Squadron, it's time to evacuate the area. Let's not continue to press our luck. Head home now. I repeat, disengage and break for the rendezvous point," he announced.

Spectre watched his map display and noted each ship as they attempted to disengage and enter hyperspace. It was difficult for them, and it took several additional minutes for his pilots to shake their attackers. Corran and Redjed were the first to go, followed by Rapier, who had been a short distance away from him. Zoom and Wildcat were the next out. Spectre continued to monitor the squadron's progress as he himself turned away from the battle. Kyp and Assassin were the last ones to leave. He did one final check for distress beacons and to his satisfaction, found none. Suddenly, he was alone. He accelerated away from the battle area with a cloud of angry Imperial pilots in pursuit.

Just as Spectre was going to pull his hyperspace lever, his missile lock warning went off. Spectre let out a curse as it changed to red. Two of the TIE Advanced had gotten within missile range and launched two missiles each. Spectre knew he was in serious trouble. He immediately dumped all power to the engines and began evasive maneuvers. He dumped out chaff just as the first pair of missiles impacted against his rear shields. The chaff helped, but the explosions had sufficient power left to severely weaken his rear shields.

The next pair of missiles arrived as Spectre dumped out more chaff and transferred the cannon power he had left to recharge his shields. This time, he was not as lucky. The missiles hit, causing him to enter a wild spin. The force of the twin explosions caused his shield generator to overload and also caused severe damage to his engines. Spectre managed to regain control of his fighter just as the TIEs entered cannon range.

Without another thought, Spectre pulled the hyperspace lever, praying to every known deity in the galaxy that it would still function. Behind him, the TIEs let loose a vicious volley of laser fire just as his fighter's hyperdrive reached full power. One of the bolts caught the X-Wing and sheared off the upper left s-foil. This caused his hyperdrive motivator to overload and subsequently explode. The last thing Spectre felt was the auto ejection system engage. He immediately went unconscious as he was flung out into space.

[Main hangar bay aboard the Regis]

The mood in the hangar bay aboard the Regis was extremely somber as the pilots of Red Squadron exited their fighters. It hadn't taken long for them to realize that their leader had not returned. They had all formed up at the rendezvous point near the Regis and the Solace, but Spectre's X-Wing was nowhere to be seen. Kyp, Rapier, Assassin, Redjed, Corran, Zoom, and Wildcat all stood staring out at the space beyond the open hangar, hoping to catch Spectre's X-Wing returning home.

"He must have gotten into trouble," Kyp said. Heads around him nodded. They all knew that Spectre always stayed behind until everyone else had left. Never once had he been the first into hyperspace when disengaging from a battle. "Well, there's nothing we can do from here if he did get into trouble. I'll go check in with the Captain. Debrief in 30 minutes people. Congratulations on some excellent flying out there," he said, trying to inject some positive feelings into the moment. The group reluctantly broke up and exited the hangar, not saying a word.

Captain Daly paced intently back and forth as he read the data report from the medical crew aboard the Eldar. The bacta they had captured had been poisoned with an ingredient that rendered the bacta toxic. It was therefore completely useless, which was not a good situation, as their current supply was down to less than a week's worth. As the Captain sat back in his chair and tried to decide how to proceed, Robert "Kyp" Cashman strode onto the main bridge.

"Captain, any news on Spectre?" Kyp asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"No Kyp, no word. He never returned with rest of you. All of Red Squadron is accounted for except for him," the Captain replied. "What happened back there anyway?"

"Well sir, after you left, we continued to fight for several more minutes. It was a furious engagement and we had difficulty disengaging safely. Spectre gave the order to leave, and we did, one by one. I think he stayed behind until the last, as he usually does, so none of us ever saw him leave," Kyp said.

"If he ejected, he's most likely been captured then," the Captain said. "That is not a good position to be in. I'm not sure how we're ever going to find him if that's the case. The Empire has a nasty reputation surrounding captured Rebel pilots, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Very aware sir. I would suggest we keep our ears open," Kyp replied, trying to force away the despair suddenly filling him. "There really isn't much else we can do without more information."

"Agreed. I'll contact Alliance command and ask for a reconnaissance sortie through the battle area. We'll look for debris fields. We will find him Kyp, if he's still alive," the Captain said, trying to sound as positive as possible.

"Yes sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a debriefing to run," Kyp said, turning to leave, trying to ignore the emotions swirling around inside him.

Rainman stared solemnly at his mug of ale. Word that Spectre had not returned had traveled quickly throughout the Regis. This news, coupled with the fact that their bacta raid had been an absolute failure, made for a very poor atmosphere on the ship. The silence in the 'Mug' was deafening.

Rainman looked up as he heard voices coming from outside the bar facility. The entry door slid open and several of his friends stepped through. Kyp's debriefing was obviously over. Rapier looked over in his direction and smiled, beckoning him over to a table near the rear of the bar. Rainman got up and strode over.

"Welcome back guys. I hear you were lucky to make it out in one piece," Rainman said, taking a seat.

"I've never seen a worse furball," Zoom responded. "The Imps really seemed to have it out for us this time."

"Yeah," Rapier added. "I've been in this war a long time, but that was some of the most intense flying I've experienced in a while." The group was quiet for a moment as the bar-bot rolled up to their table and took their orders. Conversation resumed as the droid rolled away.

"We've got to plan a rescue mission," Redjed announced, staring at the centre of the table.

"How?" Wildcat answered. "We don't even know where he is."

"I think it's a safe bet that he's been taken aboard one of the two Star Destroyers that were there. Temporarily anyway," Corran theorized. He took a swig of his ale. "Then probably to Star's End." Heads around the table nodded. Conversation ended abruptly as Kyp entered the room.

"Ten-hut!" Rapier shouted. All the pilots jumped to their feet and snapped to attention. Kyp smiled.

"As you were people. I'm here to relax too," Kyp said, motioning to the bar-bot.

The last pilot trailed in. Kyp looked at Red Squadron's assembled pilots and saw that morale was at an all time low. Many of the pilots had not been sleeping properly and the stress of the past few days showed on them all. Kyp stood up slowly, regretting that he was actually giving the briefing.

"Gentlemen, we are going on a reprisal raid. We will be attacking the supply base of the Imperial force that attacked us." He saw a glimmer of hope appear in Rainman's eyes, the look of hope quickly spread through all of the pilots. He felt a glimmer of regret at what he had to say next. "I'm sorry, but this is not a rescue mission. All though we are attacking this base Alliance Intelligence informs me that Spectre has been captured and is being shipped aboard the Corvette Dargo. They do not yet know what course it is taking, but as soon as they find out they will inform us immediately."

All of the pilots brightened and a quick cheer went up. Kyp waited until the noise had died down before he continued. "We will exit hyperspace near nav-buoy ZR-256. Red Squadron will be in two groups of 3 fighters, one Y-Wing group and one X-Wing group. I will lead the X-Wing group and will have Ranger and Rapier as my wingmen, we will provide cover for the Y-Wings as they take out the base, we will also take out any ships in the area. Rainman will lead the Y-Wing group."

Kyp had to stop as a groan came from Rainman's general direction. "I'm sorry Rainman, but you have recovered and you did want a flight assignment. You will have Redjed and Corran on your wing, you will launch shortly after the Regis arrives, you will destroy the base. The rest of you will stay in reserve and only launch if the Regis is attacked. We must destroy the base and all fighters in the area as quickly as we can. Any questions?"

Redjed raised his hand. "Sir, how much resistance can we expect?"

"We will probably face a few gunboats, as it is mainly used as a patrol base, but the force that attacked the Regis before is still in the area, so we must eliminate the base quickly."

"Do I really have to fly a Y-Wing?" Rainman asked

"Yes. The attack will begin in 1 hour. Good luck and may the Force be with you!"

Three X-Wings shot out of hyperspace near an Imperial base. They locked their s-foils and started towards the Gunboats that were swarming towards them. A few seconds later the massive form of a Nebulon B Frigate exited hyperspace, and launched 3 Y-Wings...

Chapter 10

[Somewhere near nav-buoy ZR-256]

As soon as the X-Wings reverted back to normal space Kyp looked at his scanners and saw a swarm of Gunboats, he immediately locked his s-foils, as did the rest of his flight.

"This is lead," Kyp said to the rest of his flight. "Report in and then engage those gunboats."

"Lead, I'm OK." Rapier replied.

"Roger that lead, I'm OK." Ranger said quickly.

The three X-Wings started to accelerate rapidly towards the gunboats, they watched the distance rapidly reduce and their missile indicators start to flash. Then they started to spit orange death at the gunboats, who answered back with green fire. The two forces closed to almost nothing and then broke into all directions, and started to dance with each other as they tried to get on to their opponents six so they could blast them into space dust.

Abruptly a Nebulon-B frigate came out of hyperspace in a blur of pseudo-motion. It quickly launched three Y-Wings who turned towards the vicious melee, that was going on several kilometers away, and started to move towards the Patrol Base.

"Lead to B flight prepare to engage that base, I'll take out the corvette and then take out the stationary fighters, you lot take out the base and then go after the stationary fighters." Rainman ordered.

"Yes boss, I'll be right on it." Corran answered happily.

"OK lead, will do." Redjed responded.

The X-Wings saw their missile warnings going off again as another wave of gunboats arrived to re-enforce the first lot, causing the pilots to go into defensive maneuvering. Suddenly a gunboat which had received a massive pummeling exploded into several thousand pieces.

"Yeah haw, scratch one bogie." Ranger shouted.

But he had to pull back hard on his stick as a dumb fired missile slammed into his fighter, a second missing him by centimeters. His CMD sparked as its circuitry was overloaded by the blast.

"You OK?" Rapier asked as he was dogfighting a gunboat and evading another two's lasers at the same time.

"Yes, just a little shaken that's all." Ranger replied.

Rapier moved his X-Wing so that he could cover Ranger while he recharged his shield system. He pummeled a gunboat that was trying to track Ranger, it broke off its attack to late and became a ball of expanding debris. Some of the gunboat pilots noticed that three Y-Wings were making an attack run on the base. They immediately broke off their attack on the X-Wings and drove their fighters at maximum speed towards the Y-Wings. Kyp saw two of the gunboats were trying to get to the Y-Wings and started to fire on one of them, the gunboat suddenly preformed a corkscrew maneuver just as Kyp's rear shields were spattered with laser fire.

Rainman's lock indicator turned Red and he loosed a salvo of torpedoes at the corvette, he was just about to launch another when his missile warning went off. He pulled back into a graceful loop to face the oncoming missile, he fired a burst of lasers at the missile which exploded harmlessly. Rainman started to fire on his attacker, the gunboat pilot skillfully dodged almost all of his shots. Rainman reset his ELS to give himself more speed and he managed to loop on to the tail of the gunboat and fire a couple of shots at it. The gunboat pilot grinned evilly as he looped onto the Y-Wings six. 'I've got you now, Rebel scum.' He thought to himself as he started to fire into Rainman's fighter. Seconds later though his fighter was turned into a ball of frozen gas as two dumb fired torpedoes from Corran's Y-Wing hit home.

"Yeah haw, got him Rain." Corran shouted in excitement. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Rainman remarked, looking about the damaged cockpit, several of his instruments were fried. "But I'm goin' to nail that corvette."

The two Y-Wings continued towards the base. Suddenly one of the containers exploded in a brilliant flash of light, as three of Redjed's torpedoes rammed into it. Rainman launched four torpedoes at the corvette and watched in satisfaction as secondary explosions ripped through its hull.

The last of the gunboats desperately tried to evade the three Red Squadron X-Wing's fire, suddenly the gunboats reactor gave out from the stress and it exploded causing the gunboat to spin wildly out of control and finally explode. The three X-Wings turned towards the remains of the Imperial base to see the Y-Wings finish off the last of the parked gunboats.

"This is Kyp, all Alliance craft jump to preset 4."

A host of Rogers came over the comm and the Alliance craft made their way to the hyperspace point. The Y-Wings were out first, Kyp held the X-Wings back until the Regis was nearing its jump point. Suddenly Kyp's targeting computer went announced the arrival of an Imperial stardestroyer at 15 kilometers and the launch of some of its fighters.

"Shall we engage?" Ranger asked.

"Negative, we will be long gone by the time they get here."

The Regis accelerated as it entered hyperspace. The three X-Wings closed their s-foils and accelerated towards hyperspace. The TIE's turned angrily around frustrated at the loss of their prey, and headed back towards their mothership.

[3 days later…]

Lt. Commander Rob 'Kyp' Cashman strode into the Mug, closely followed by Lt. Ali 'Corran' Winston. They walked up to the bar and Corran turned round and shouted, "The next round of drinks are on me, my transfer to Green Squadron has been approved!" Red Squadrons pilots came up to the bar ordering drinks and congratulating Corran on being accepted in to one of the Alliances best bomber squadrons.

"When are you going?" Zoom asked.

"Well the shuttle will be here in three days."

"Lt. Commander Cashman report to the bridge." The intercom buzzed.

"Sorry guys, duty calls." Kyp said to the pilots. He turned towards the door and walked towards the nearest turbolift.

[Bridge of the FRG Regis]

Captain Daly surveyed his crew as they went efficiently about their duties in the usual bustling of the bridge, when the Regis was at Red Base for re-supply and routine maintenance. He looked up at the turbolift doors just as they opened and Kyp walked out. Kyp walked over to Lt. Kristy McCall, the Regis' communications officer.

"How are you today Kristy?" Kyp asked.

"I'm fine. The Captain wants to see you."

Kyp walked over to the Captain, who just motioned Kyp to follow him. They both walked into the Captains ready room.

"Ah, Lt. Commander Alliance Intelligence has just sent me a report indicating when and where Red Leader is to be moved." The Captain looked into Kyp's eyes, to see relief flood into them, much of the strain that had been in his face seemed to disappear. "He is being transported on the Corvette Dargo to the Atrivis sector for interrogation on board the Star Destroyer Iron Fist . He will probably be taken to Stars End after his interrogation. Alliance High Command has asked that you come up with a rescue plan by tomorrow morning."

"Yes Sir." Kyp said. "If I may be excused I have a mission to plan."

"Dismissed."

[Next morning…]

"Very well Lt. Commander, your plan will be approved." Admiral Ackbar rasped. "Every thing you need will be ready for the attack. May the force be with you. Ackbar out."

The Communications screen went blank. Kyp and Captain Daly turned away from the screen. Kyp got up and walked out of the door and into the turbolifts. Captain Daly got up out of his chair and walked onto the bridge and sat in the command chair.

"Helm prepare to get under way as soon as the last of our pilots are on board. Lt. McCall recall Red Squadron to the ship and send Captain Harrison my compliments on the fine repair job his techs have done."

Daly relaxed back into his command chair thinking about what was to come. The Empire would not be happy at all.

[1 day later… Briefing Room 1]

Rainman walked into the briefing room last and quickly sat down on the front row. He turned to Zoom who was sat next to him.

"Do you know what is going on here?" He asked.

"No, but it does seem a bit strange that we were pulled off of leave early and have not even had the slightest hint at why."

"Have you noticed that Kyp has…"

"Shh, Kyp is here."

Kyp walked into the briefing room followed by Captain Daly, they walked to the front of the room and Kyp sat down.

"Gentlemen, we have good news and bad news for you," Daly looked around at the gathered pilots who looked tense in expectation of the news. "The good news is that Alliance Intelligence has located Red Leader." He stopped to wait for the excited chatter to die down. "The bad news is that we have to take him from the 'comfort' of the Corvette Dargo, which is transporting him to the ISD Iron Fist . Kyp will now brief you on your assignments."

Kyp stood up and looked at all of the pilots seeing the high hopes in their faces. "The Corvette Dargo will rendezvous with the Iron Fist in the Atrivis Sector, in about twelve hours. The Iron Fist has a complement of TIE Advanced on board rather than TIE Fighters. We cannot take out this Star Destroyer without many more pilots and so we must take Spectre from the Dargo. There is only one problem with this, it is only scheduled to have one stop, the rendezvous point, where the Iron Fist will be waiting for it." Kyp looked around to see some confusion on the faces of the pilots. "The solution to this problem should be relatively simple, High Command will send another squadron to attack the Iron Fist before it makes its jump to the rendezvous point. We cannot predict how long we will have before the manage to beat off the attack and then arrive."

"Sir, won't the Iron Fist just go to hyperspace if it is attacked?" Rainman interrupted.

"Well, the attack force will be to small to be a big threat to it so that the Imperial commander will try to crush the force, and not run away." Kyp looked at Rainman and saw that he was satisfied by the answer. "Our operation to rescue Spectre will use four flight groups. First A-Wing Red A, consisting of myself, Rapier, and Redjed will exit hyperspace, to clear away some of the fighters and to inspect the corvette to ensure that Spectre is onboard. Once the Dargo has been identified Y-Wing Red B, consisting of Rainman, Gargoyle and WildCat will exit hyperspace and disable the corvette. When the corvette is disabled Shuttle Rescue Riker will hyperspace in, the shuttle will be escorted by X-Wing Red C, consisting of Ranger and Zoom, the shuttle will dock with the corvette and rescue Spectre. Are there any questions?"

"What resistance can we expect to face?" Zoom asked.

"The Dargo will receive an escort of Gunboats from its last port of call."

"Are we going to abort the mission if the Iron Fist arrives?"

"No, once the operation has started another squadron will have lost many good pilots, we cannot let their sacrifice to go to waste. Also their starfighter compliment should be greatly reduced. If there are no more questions." Kyp paused. "Very well, we will meet in the hanger in eleven hours. Dismissed."

[11 hours later, some where in the Atrivis sector.]

Three A-Wings exited hyperspace and turned towards a distant corvette…

Captain Okun Duff tugged at his flight yoke, banking the assault gunboat around in a sharp turn. As his targeting reticule settled over the distant specks that had just appeared from hyperspace, he flipped the selector switch over to MISSILES.

"Tau One to Tau Wing. Look sharp, everyone, we have Rebels entering the area."

He barely heard the chorus of acknowledgements from his wingmen, focusing instead on his CMD. The screen showed the magnified image of his target, a Rebel A-wing, heading at him straight on. Duff took a deep breath of the filtered air inside his helmet, watching the range count down rapidly.

His target box began to blink amber. Duff held his course, waiting for an answering paint from the A-wing; it didn't come. Stupid Rebel, he thought. The crosshairs went red, a solid tone sounded, and Duff pulled the trigger. Two orange streaks leapt from the sides of his craft like hunting beasts given their freedom.

Instead of taking evasive action, the Rebel pilot began firing at extreme range. A desperate maneuver, Duff thought, as he began to push his gunboat's nose down and out of the line of fire.

There was a sudden bright explosion. Duff's instincts screamed, and a moment later his conscious mind caught up with them: the blunted arrowhead was still untouched on his CMD. Not stupid, not stupid at all. The Rebel had managed to shoot down the incoming concussion missiles, and now...

The Imperial pilot cursed and pulled up again, trying to swing around behind his opponent. The heavy gunboat handled a bit sluggishly, and the A-wing was in and out of his sights before he could pull the trigger. His scope showed a random jumble of red and green dots; both sides were thoroughly entangled in a furball.

Another A-wing zoomed past his nose, offering a target of opportunity. Duff turned to follow. He flipped the switch back to lasers and was about to take a shot when his own fighter was jolted repeatedly by hits on his rear shields. He broke hard to the right and reinforced the shields with gun power, but the pursuer stuck with him, a single green blip centered in his scope.

His shields went amber, then red, then vanished entirely. Duff pulled frantically at the yoke, trying to escape, but more bolts sliced through the gunboat's armor and severed the right wing, sending the fighter into an uncontrollable spin.

"AAAAAAHHH--!"

The explosion ended his scream.

Kyp keyed his mike as he banked away from his kill. "Red Two, one fighter down. You guys think you can handle the other two?"

"No problem, Kyp," Rapier answered, working the throttle constantly to stay on the tail of another gunboat without overshooting. "Get going, you have a corvette to inspect."

With a parting "Be careful," Kyp disengaged from the fight. The heavens wheeled past the A-wing's canopy as he turned the speedy little interceptor toward the Dargo and reset his ELS. The hum of the two massive engines behind him increased until it was the loudest sound in the cockpit.

He took his hands off the controls long enough to flex them. His sensors had already identified three "brights" - T/As - in close-escort formation around the corvette. He'd have to face them, alone, before confirming that Spectre was aboard. And then there was the real wild card of this mission, the Iron Fist. Another squadron was making a terrible sacrifice on their behalf. Good pilots were going to die today. Kyp mourned them, and hoped it would be enough to delay the Star Destroyer while he and the other Reds completed their mission.

This was going to be a hard fight.

Spectre was alone in the dimly lit interrogation room. The room was actually little more than a large closet. He had lost all track of time since ejecting from his X-Wing. He had no idea if days, weeks, or months had passed. All he knew was, he had never been in so much agony in all his life.

The Imps had decided that no medical care, food, or water was the best form of torture at the moment. His right arm had been injured in the ejection, and now he'd lost all feeling below his elbow. Spectre figured in all likelihood the lack of attention meant that he would never use his right hand again. His entire body ached with fatigue. All he wanted to do was eat a hot meal and then sleep for at least a week.

Suddenly, the door opened. An Navy officer entered, a Lieutenant by the rank insignia on his uniform. He had a datapad in one hand. Spectre noticed two guards outside in the corridor. They stayed outside as the door closed again. The Imperial looked at him and smiled slightly, causing a chill to run up Spectre's spine.

"Well Commander, it looks as if you are in fine shape today," the officer said. "My name is Lieutenant Gorin. I will be conducting your... questioning," he continued, turning on his datapad. "I've come to get a few of the preliminaries out of the way, you know, the administrative details," the lieutenant said. Spectre stared back in silence, mustering all the determination he could find within his battered soul.

"I will tell you nothing, nothing," Spectre finally rasped. The effort of speaking seemed to require energy he no longer had.

"Please, Commander, you know full well that resistance is futile and pointless." The lieutenant sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "We will break you, and you will tell us what we want to know. This process can be swift or slow, it's all up to you," Gorin said matter-of-factly. Spectre remained silent, trying to project an air of strength and defiance. Inside, he felt weak and vulnerable, a fact that the interrogation process would soon reveal.

"You Imperial scum will learn nothing of use from me. I will not betray my comrades to you. I will die first," Spectre responded. Gorin laughed evilly.

"You Rebels are so pathetic," Gorin said, rising from his chair. He was silent for a moment, continuing to stare at his captive. "You are right about one thing, Commander; you will die. But I promise you, it will not be swift. I had hoped you would be more sensible and realize the hopelessness of your situation. I should have known better," Gorin concluded, looking very disappointed. "We will continue this conversation shortly."

The lieutenant left the room, leaving Spectre alone to contemplate his fate.

Kyp smirked as the T/A in his sights started to turn just as two missiles caught up with it from behind, blowing right through its shields and instantly turning it into a fireball. Less than a minute ago, he had destroyed the unfortunate Imperial's wingman with the exact same tactic. "The Empire must be letting anybody fly a TIE Advanced these days," he tsked.

Ignoring the third and sole remaining member of Omega Flight for a moment, Kyp focused his scanners on the nearby corvette. As expected, its transponder signal identified it as the Dargo. What made Kyp whoop in triumph, however, was the line of text on the bottom of his screen. Somewhere on that ship, a tiny transceiver sewn into a Rebel flight suit had responded to the sensor ping with a low-power signal of its own. Spectre's uniform was aboard; Kyp just hoped he was still in it.

Green laser lines flew past his canopy from behind as the last T/A pilot reminded Kyp of his presence. Kyp went evasive, hoping that the Y-wings would arrive soon. He turned upwards in a classic immelman, bringing him face to face with his foe.

The Imperial pilot opened fire, forcing Kyp to use a corkscrew maneuver to evade. Some laser fire splashed against his shields as the two fighters passed one another. Kyp cursed. "This guy knows what he's doing." Just as he entered an upward climb to reacquire his quarry, a voice came over his comm channel.

"Red Two, this is Rainman. Keep that Imp busy, we're three klicks out and we're starting our run on the Dargo." Rainman announced.

"Copy Rainman," Kyp answered, while lining up on the T/A pilot.

Three Y-Wings bored in on the Corvette. Two of the fighters launched a pair of proton torpedoes to bring down the Dargo's shields. Then they all opened up with their ion cannons, walking blue energy bolts down the length of the ship. The Dargo's gunners barely had time to return fire before all electrical power aboard the ship was lost.

Spectre was on the edge of passing out again when suddenly the room around him rocked so violently that he was thrown out of the chair he was sitting in. He grunted as he hit the floor. Something had hit the ship.

Just as he gathered his strength and attempted to sit up, he was plunged into complete darkness. A few seconds later, the darkness was replaced by the dim red glow of emergency lighting. Instinctively, Spectre knew what had happened. This was no power failure: someone had just disabled the ship. And the only reason for that was... a rescue.

No sooner had he reached that conclusion than the door opened again. The guards rushed in and hauled him roughly to his feet, bringing him face to face with Lieutenant Gorin.

"It seems your friends have arrived," Gorin observed with crisp displeasure. "However, I have no intention of letting them have you back." He drew his sidearm and leveled it at Spectre's head. Spectre held his breath, trying not to flinch.

After a tense moment, the Imperial officer holstered his blaster again. "Unfortunately, my orders are quite clear. The information you have is too valuable to kill you. Therefore, you will come with me to an escape pod." To the guards, he added, "Bring him."

Spectre was marched out of his cell and down one of the corvette's spotless white corridors. "A Star Destroyer will be arriving at any moment and I am sure they will be able to deal with your comrades," the lieutenant boasted. "Once we are safely aboard, you and I can continue our 'discussion' without any more interruptions."

"Swell," Spectre groaned, his head bobbing with every step.

As Wildcat and Rainman turned almost gracefully away from the disabled corvette, a series of tones from Kyp's console informed him of new arrivals. He looked back over his shoulder just in time to see two X-wings streak in and slow to cruising speed. The rescue shuttle was right behind them.

"Good," Kyp murmured, setting his CMD to map mode. So far, the mission was going smoothly and on schedule. The Dargo was dead in space, with all of its escorts destroyed or driven off; the final T/A, shieldless and scorched by a double missile hit, was running for its jump point now. Meanwhile, the only casualty on the Red side was Gargoyle, who had to retreat after his Y-wing took a few too many hits from the corvette's turbolasers.

And then, predictably, things got more complicated.

Another red blip appeared on Rapier's scope, rapidly brightening and separating into three targets. A quick look out the canopy told him everything he needed to know. "Jed, look out! More gunboats coming in!"

Every alarm in Redjed's cockpit seemed to be going off at once. "I'm locked, I'm locked!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a missile hit his A-wing from the side with a terrible crunch. Half his panel shorted out, but the LOCK indicator stayed lit and he could see two more missiles boring in. His hand found the ejection lever and yanked it.

The cockpit exploded around him - for an instant, Mark thought he was too late. Then he was floating free among the stars. Below was an expanding cloud of smoke and light that had been his fighter. He quickly sealed his flight suit and hoped the shuttle would get to him before the Imperials did.

Kyp saw Redjed go down and was moving to assist Rapier when he heard Zoom's voice in his ear. "Two, this is Five. Do you need help?"

"Negative, Five, stay with the shuttle. We'll handle these Imps."

"Yes sir."

Kyp dove into the furball, and the next several seconds were pure reflex. Meanwhile, Zoom circled the Dargo with Ranger, watching the shuttle settle into place at the corvette's boarding lock. Rainman and Wildcat, their task completed, followed Gargoyle into hyperspace.

Ranger had just completed another lap around the corvette when his R2 began hooting frantically. He didn't check the translation; the familiar grey wedge that had appeared in the distance spoke for itself.

"Captain!"

"I see it. Red Five to Red Group. Iron Fist has arrived."

Sergeant Rylo Gunther, leader of Commando Team Delta, sat quietly in his seat as the rescue shuttle touched down above the Corvette's exterior docking hatch. He had conducted a final run through of the boarding plan with his ten member team while their shuttle was in hyperspace. Nothing remained to be said, the moment was at hand.

Upon confirmation from the pilot that the docking was complete, Gunther and his team went into action. Since the Imps were not waiting with open arms, one of the soldiers used a fusion cutter to carve open the corvette's exterior hatch. When the panel fell away, Gunther pulled a fragmentation grenade out of his pack, set the delay for 4 seconds, and tossed the device into the corridor below. The grenade exploded with a muffled thump. For good measure, Gunther threw another grenade in, this time down the corridor in the opposite direction. Always first into battle, he thumbed the safety of his DH-17 blaster pistol to "off" and jumped down through the open hole.

He hit the floor and went into a crouch. Smoke from the grenades filled the corridor, but was clearing. The grenades had done their job. Two Imperial guards lay dead in the corridor ahead of him, Gunther checked the other direction and saw no one. He looked up and gave his second-in-command the all-clear signal. One by one, the commandos dropped into the corridor. They organized themselves into two five-man teams and then split up to commence their search.

The corvette was a small ship, and it was plain to Lieutenant Gorin after he heard two muffled explosions from further ahead that the Rebel dogs would be there in seconds. The guards hauled Spectre along behind him as he hurried down the long corridor leading to the escape pod bay.

"Sounds like your rescuers are here, Commander. Too bad for you that they won't find us in time."

Spectre wanted desperately to get in a comment about Imperial overconfidence, but decided against it. Instead, he prayed silently that the lieutenant would be proven wrong.

As they reached the end of the corridor and turned right, Spectre's prayers were answered. A three-man damage control party, running headlong down the corridor in the opposite direction, collided head on with the lieutenant. The four Imperials crashed into the floor together. In the resulting confusion, the two guards holding him released their grip and Spectre tumbled to the floor. The guards rushed ahead and tried to help the fallen to their feet.

Gorin cursed the damage control team for their incompetence, threatening all three of them with slow death. Spectre thought that the situation would have been pretty humorous if the circumstances had been different. As he lay there on the floor, he wished he had the strength to run, but he couldn't even move.

Meanwhile, Gunther and the four commandos with him had run into some resistance as they swept through the corridors of the Dargo. However, it was dispatched relatively quickly. One of his team had taken a blaster hit to the left arm, but was still in the fight.

As they reached an intersection, Gunther heard commotion from further ahead and ordered his team to halt. He listened carefully and heard muffled curses and shouting. Motioning his team forward, he proceeded down the hallway. It ran on for about five meters before turning right. In the dim red light, Gunther saw shadows on the wall. He silently told his team to stop again as he proceeded the rest of the way down the corridor. Very cautiously, he followed along the wall.

When he reached the end, he turned and snapped a glance around the corner. What he saw surprised him. Apparently there had been a collision between two groups running in opposite directions. Just beyond the tangle of Imperials picking themselves up off the floor, he saw a Rebel flight suit. He turned back and motioned his team to join him. When they arrived, he counted to three and swung himself out into open view.

Gorin saw a green-uniformed figure step out from around the corner ahead. He shouted a panicked order to the guards behind him, but it was too late. Blaster fire filled the air - very precise and deadly. Gorin felt a sudden hammer blow to his chest, followed by an intense burning sensation. His vision blurred, and he was plunged into blackness.

Spectre lay completely prone as the commando team made short work of the Imperials. He heard footsteps come running towards him. He opened his eyes to see the familiar face of Sergeant Rylo Gunther, leader of the commando team often attached to the Regis. He gasped in recognition and relief.

"Hello, Commander," Gunther said with a smile. "Glad to see you're still in one piece." Two of his team came up and scooped Spectre up. "Now, let's get you the heck off this tub."

"Here they come!"

The six T/Is began firing, fingers of green light reaching for the X-wings. Then their tight formation burst apart like an unfolding flower, each dagger-winged fighter veering off in a different direction. It was a beautiful demonstration of precision flying, but the Rebels had no time to admire it.

Two to six, thought Zoom as he aimed his nose at a squint and squeezed the trigger. The T/I, caught in the center of his quad lasers, exploded instantly: a clean kill. Zoom selected the next closest target, then changed his mind as he saw another T/I chasing and firing at Ranger. His first snap shot was a glancing hit on the right wing. The squint pilot kept firing, intent on his target. It was his last mistake, as Zoom blew him into particles a moment later.

Sounds about fair, Zoom concluded.

While Ranger and Zoom dealt with the Iron Fist's fighters, Kyp and Rapier were mopping up the gunboats. The first wave of reinforcements had been destroyed, only to be replaced by another set of three coming out of hyperspace. Kyp had taken a missile hit, but his doubled shields held and the gunboat responsible fell to his lasers soon after.

The angry throb of Kyp's lock warning stopped, started again, then cut out for good as Rapier finished the gunboat tailing him. Kyp leveled out from his evasive jinking and lined up on the last gunboat. Selecting his one remaining missile, he waited for a red lock. The gunboat broke off its attack and turned to run.

"Smile," Kyp whispered.

With a brief, violent flash, the gunboat ceased to be. Kyp checked his sensors as his A-wing soared through the debris cloud. There was the corvette, with the rescue shuttle still docked to it; and there was a pair of faint green sparks in a cluster of equally dim red blips.

"Five, this is Two. What's your status?"

"My machine is clean, sir!" Zoom reported cheerfully. "Ranger's fine too. We're getting a lot of target practice here."

"Copy that," acknowledged Kyp with a smirk. "On our way." Rapier formed up on his wing and both fighters turned toward the far-off ISD.

A new voice spoke. "Rescue Riker to Red Two."

"Two here, go ahead Riker."

"We have the package and are leaving the party now. We'll pick up your other man on the way out."

Kyp leaned forward in his seat. "What is the package's condition, over?"

"Package is a little torn, but the contents are intact."

Kyp felt a wave of cool relief wash over him. "Thanks for the good news, Riker. May the Force be with you. Two out." Switching frequencies, he relayed the information to the rest of the squadron. "Which means we are done here, gentlemen. Finish those squints and get clear."

"Aye, sir."

[Two days later, aboard the Regis...]

Evening, ship's time. Kyp stopped at the doorway to the recovery room, announcing himself quietly to the sole occupant.

"Jeff? It's me."

His commander, his friend, looked so frail lying there in the hospital bed. The clean white gown hid most of his injuries, but there was no covering up the worst: Spectre's right arm from the elbow down was smooth, hairless, and a slightly different shade of pink. It lay at his side, with diagnostic equipment plugged into an open jack at the wrist.

Spectre turned his head and smiled wanly. "Hey." He beckoned to Kyp with his other hand. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"How do you feel?" asked Kyp as he sat down in a nearby chair.

"Lousy." Spectre sighed, then managed another smile. "But I'm alive, and not a prisoner anymore. I hear you led the rescue mission. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Kyp took Spectre's good hand and clasped it firmly. "Everyone in the squadron is pulling for you to get well soon."

Spectre closed his eyes, looking pained. Kyp leaned closer. "You okay?"

"Yeah... fine." Jeff opened his eyes again and met the other man's gaze. "Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about..."

A half hour later, Zoom knocked on the doorway. "Sirs? You sent for me?"

Spectre and Kyp looked up. "Yes, Captain," the latter confirmed. "Come in, please."

Zoom entered, but did not sit. Concern and sympathy were plain on his face as his eyes scanned once over the bed, then focused on the CO.

"Zoom," Spectre began, "there are going to be some changes in the squadron. I've decided to step down as Red Leader."

Zoom's eyebrow's shot up. "Sir? Why?"

Spectre frowned and held up his new right arm. "Well, for starters, I can't fly with this patched-up wing. Not now, and maybe not ever. The 2-1B says that it may take weeks or months for me to regain full function. And if I can't fly, I'm not much good to the squadron."

"But..."

"Red needs a CO who can lead them into combat. Sitting behind a desk isn't my style, never was; you know that. It was always the part of the job that I liked the least."

"I understand, sir." Zoom glanced over at Kyp. "I guess that means you'll be Red Leader, sir?"

Kyp shook his head. "I'm staying in the XO spot. That's where I'm most comfortable."

"Then who...?"

Spectre smiled broadly. "Actually, Zoom, I was wondering if you might be interested in the job. I think you'd be perfect."

"ME?"

"What do you think, Rob?"

"I think you're right, Jeff. He'll make a fine Commander."

"C-Commander?" Zoom stammered.

"The rank comes with the position of squadron leader," Kyp observed with a chuckle.

The object of the discussion took two steps back and dropped into a chair, looking as if he'd been hit in the chest with a blaster bolt. Spectre glanced over at him. "Well, don't just sit there with your mouth open, St.Clair. Say something."

Zoom's head was spinning, but he forced words out. "I... would be honored, sir."

"Good. I'll make it official in the morning. Congratulations, Kelly."

"Thank you, sir."

With a night's sleep under his belt, Zoom was much more composed. He strode into the briefing room with head held high, command pips pinned to his flight suit... and stopped.

The other pilots were already there, sitting in neat rows. They all stared at him. No one moved. No one spoke.

Zoom swallowed.

In the silent room, the sudden applause was deafening.

As one, the pilots of Red Squadron rose and gave their new leader a standing ovation. When it finally ended, Zoom had to blink away tears before continuing.

"Thank you. I swear that I will do everything I can to repay your trust in me. Knowing, all the while, that I have a high standard to live up to."

"And now, the bad news. We are completely out of bacta. Spectre needed all of our remaining untainted supply. Which means the situation is more desperate than ever. Fortunately, the Alliance has finally been able to arrange another shipment."

Zoom turned to the holomap, which lit up with the usual grid. It rotated and swiftly zoomed in on a group of cargo containers. "The Xucphra Corporation has agreed to sell some bacta to us. The exchange will take place at a secret location somewhere near the Thyferra system. Red Squadron will provide cover for this operation."

A pair of corvettes flew in from offscreen and came to a halt next to the containers. "Once the contents of the containers have been verified, Corvette Group Flaak'ra will hyper in and begin loading the bacta."

Redjed, in the back, raised his hand. Despite his brief exposure to space, the young pilot was none the worse for wear. "What if it's another trap, sir? Like the Solace?"

Zoom sighed. "Frankly, at this point, we have to take that chance. A lot of people need this bacta. And Intel says we can probably trust Xucphra to hold up their end of the deal. Still, that's why we're sending in fighters to ID the containers first."

"What we really need to be concerned about is Imperial interference. Although the location of the transfer is supposed to be secret, the ISD Wisp has been reported in the area. You may run into one of their patrols, so stay alert."

The container icons vanished and the two corvettes moved off the screen, accelerating as they went. "We have to have the whole shipment, so make sure both corvettes make it out with the bacta on board."

Zoom let the map loop back to the beginning as he turned to face the seated pilots. "This is the kind of mission the A-wing was designed for, so that's what we'll be flying. There'll be three of us; enough to provide security, but not enough to scare off the Xucphra people if they're still around when we arrive. Because of the importance of this mission, I've decided to lead it myself... my first official act as CO." He smiled, a bit sheepishly. "I'll also need two wingmen."

As expected, every hand went up. Zoom took a deep breath before making his choices. "Okay. Rapier... and Ranger. I'll see you on the flight deck in fifteen minutes. Everybody else, I appreciate it. Dismissed."

Zoom expertly piloted his sleek A-wing out of the Regis' hangar, with his wingmen, Rapier and Ranger, following. Zoom had much on his mind at the moment. With Spectre's sudden retirement, he had been thrust into leadership of Red Squadron. As he banked his fighter into the appropriate vector for lightspeed entry, he pondered the responsibility he had acquired over the last few days. And now, the fate of many Alliance comrades depended on this mission.

"All right, gentlemen, prepare for the jump to hyperspace on my mark," Zoom announced as he prepped his motivator. "The Thyferra system shouldn't have any Imperial activity at the moment, but we must be ready for anything, especially the Wisp."

"Roger that, Zoom," Rapier replied.

"Ready when you are, Red Leader," Ranger chimed in.

"And we're go in, 3, 2, 1...engage hyperdrive!" Kelly chanted as his craft plummeted into infinity. Stars elongated, then disappeared entirely as the A-wings sped on their way to safeguard the Thyferran bacta.

Captain Damerra paced the bridge of his mighty ship, observing his crew at their stations. Recently, the Wisp had confronted Red Squadron, and had lost many fighters to its pilots. Damerra, shamed greatly by this Rebel scum, had personally asked Moff Gerom to undertake their destruction. Damerra had devised a brilliant plan, in his opinion, to draw Red Squadron into his trap.

"Lieutenant Nievel."

"Yes sir!"

"Have the appropriate funds been transferred to Knybosh's account?" Damerra asked drily.

"Yes sir, the transaction was confirmed this morning. Director Knybosh assured me the package would be delivered on schedule."

Damerra smiled inwardly, though his face showed nothing. "Very well, lieutenant, you are dismissed."

"Yes sir." The lieutenant made a stiff military bow and returned to his post at the communications station.

Everything is proceeding as I have planned, Damerra thought. And soon, Red Squadron will be no more.

Zoom was running a diagnostics check on his A-wing's systems. He had ordered for Rapier and Ranger to do the same during their 3 hour trip in hyperspace. Nothing must go wrong during this bacta transfer. Zoom wanted his first mission as Red CO to run smoothly. Out of habit, Zoom checked the chronometer. Two minutes remained in the blurred dimension of hyperspace. The diagnostics check was complete, and the A-wing was in prime shape for the mission. Kelly smiled. As chief mechanic, Pappy was unconditionally devoted to the upkeep of the Regis' fighter craft.

The chronometer was counting down the final seconds of this trip, and when the time was up, the A-wing's navcomputer brought the craft out of hyperspace. Immediately, Zoom checked his sensors. Rapier and Ranger were in formation behind him.

"Alright, gentlemen, keep your lasers and shields charged. We have to be ready for anything."

"The Xucphra Corporation can't be trusted, huh?" Ranger asked.

"I don't know, Neill, this whole situation has just got me real uneasy. The Bacta Cartel has never offered the Alliance a deal like this in the past."

"Don't worry, fellas. Even if the worst comes to pass, it shouldn't be anything we can't handle, right?" Rapier added encouragingly.

Zoom grinned. "I suppose you're right." He glanced down at his CMD. They were nearing the rendevous point for the bacta transfer. "Scanning for the containers."

"Anything coming up?"

"Yes.....not two containers...but three!"

"That is strange," Rapier noted. "Maybe the Alliance was able to obtain another shipment at the last minute."

"I don't know. We'll see, though. The corvettes will be here soon, so let's identify them quick. I've got a feeling we may have company on the way."

"Roger that, Red One," both wingmen responded.

Zoom brought the nearest container up on his CMD. He would have to fly close in order for his sensors to verify the container's contents. Just as he drew within 200 meters, the CMD registered that Container Xucphra One indeed held bacta. Container Xucphra Two also showed up as having bacta.

As Zoom piloted his craft in towards the last container, the corvettes Flaa'kra 1 and 2 jumped in about 4 klicks away with a flash of pseudomotion.

As he passed over the third Xucphra container, he gasped with shock. He didn't need to relay the message to his wingmates. The red blips of 4 TIE Fighters appeared on their scopes a moment later.

"Evasive maneuvers! Prepare to engage enemy!" Zoom declared.

"One, this is Two. The fighters seem to be ignoring us and heading straight for the corvettes!"

"Okay, Ranger, Rapier, take the fighters. Intercept them before they cause too much damage. I'll destroy the TIE hangar."

Zoom briefly reprimanded himself for being so careless. He should have guessed the situation was too peculiar, with the mysterious third container being present. As he raced back towards the disguised TIE hangar, he saw two red blips disappear from his sensor screens.

"Keep it up. The corvettes MUST make it out of here alive."

"Red Leader, this is Flaa'kra 1. We have an incoming on our screens. Sensors identify it as the Wisp."

So, Zoom realized, it was a trap after all. The Empire's vendetta for Red Squadron continued. Only now, there were only three pilots here to protect the transfer.

"Zoom, Ranger is dogfighting the last TIE now, I'm coming to help finish off the extra container."

"Copy that, Rapier. Don't waste too many missiles on it. The Wisp is bound to launch bombers."

"Copy that, Red Leader."

Zoom acquired a target lock on the container. A slight shudder passed through the A-wing's frame as he launched two of his concussion missiles. He saw two more orange daggers fly past him, racing in towards the TIE hangar.

"Engage with laser cannons, maximum range."

"Roger."

With both fighters mercilessly scorching it with laser fire, the container began to break up. Just then, Ranger killed the last TIE. As the container exploded, Zoom noticed that the Wisphad launched TIE Interceptors and TIE Bombers, both in flight groups of three.

"Throttle up. We have incoming threats to the corvettes. We can't let the bombers get off any of their torpedoes."

At that moment, both the corvettes announced docking procedures had begun. Zoom sighed. If they could hold off the TIEs for just a few more minutes, the bacta would be safely on its way.

Outnumbered and overmatched, the three A-wings prepared to drive off the Imperial forces.

Damerra regarded the tactical display with displeasure. The Rebels had sent only three fighters; he’d hoped to catch more of Red Squadron in this trap. Still, this meant the odds were even worse for them. Victory should be swift. Then he could turn his attention to hunting down the rest.

"Alpha Leader is thirty seconds from target," his starfighter coordinator informed him.

He could already see his plan unfolding, as it had in his mind’s eye. The fighters would cut the Rebels to ribbons, while the bombers destroyed the corvettes sent to collect the bait. If the captains of those ships were smart, they would try to run for it... but Damerra knew how desperate the Alliance was for bacta. And desperate men do stupid things.

"Is the rest of Alpha Squadron standing by?"

"Yes, sir. Ready to launch, by threes, on your command."

"Good." Damerra leaned back and watched the display, where the first group of red blips was about to make contact with the green ones. In moments, the destruction of Red Squadron would commence.

"They’re firing! Break!"

The A-wing formation split apart as the oncoming squints began sending streams of laser fire their way. With typical Imperial discipline, each Interceptor turned to follow a separate target. Green needles leapt from the pointed tips of their wing panels to splash against rear shields.

Zoom started a loop to try and shake his pursuer, then had a better idea. "Three, this is One. Want to trade?"

Rapier smiled. "Sure thing, Lead. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours."

Both A-wings turned toward each other, the distance between them closing rapidly. Just when a head-on collision seemed imminent, Zoom turned aside. Rapier, seeing this, dodged in the other direction. The A-wings slipped past each other with meters to spare, and the Interceptors chasing them barely had time to realize they were now in another fighter’s gunsights before they were both vaped.

"Nice one, Three."

"Thanks. Ranger, how are you doing?"

Ranger was in a turning contest with his opponent, neither pilot able to score on the other as they twisted and looped through space. He cursed and cut his throttle, trying to get on the squint’s six. "Fine, but he’s..." The Interceptor suddenly straightened out, drifting almost lazily across the A-wing’s nose. Ranger fired twice and the TIE became a ball of incandescent gas. "... oh YEAH!" he finished.

The celebration was necessarily short. Zoom looked up through his canopy and reminded them all, "Bombers, coming in!" He switched over to missiles and took aim at the group of T/Bs heading single-mindedly toward the corvettes. His wingmen followed suit.

The bombers were already too close to wait for a full red lock, so Zoom fired after just a few beeps and climbed hard to avoid a collision. His aim was true: the missile cored one of the dupes, punching through the cockpit window before exploding inside, sending the still-intact second hull spinning off into space. Rapier fired blind into the tight formation and saw the flash of another kill. Looping around behind the last bomber, he targeted it and fired a second missile. At point-blank range, the explosion was bright enough to make his canopy darken.

Ranger’s fight with the Interceptor had led him too far away to reach the bombers before the others did. He felt a twinge of annoyance, which he immediately realized was silly. He’d get plenty of kills today. Living to brag about it was much less certain.

The interior of the barn-sized container was lit only by a few glow rods and the shaft of light from the open ceiling hatch. Working as quickly as they dared, cargo handlers grabbed large drums of bacta and gave them a good shove toward the hatch. In zero-gravity, the heavy cylinders floated like balloons. They still had mass and inertia, however, so the crew had to be sure not to get in their way.

As they entered the spotlight, the drums were stopped and then lifted by a tractor beam into the belly hold of Flaa'kra 2. They creaked and popped as they entered the corvette's gravity field. Several droids were waiting with open metal arms to catch the bacta and stack it against the walls of the hold. These were load lifters, fifth-degree droids, and they worked with the uncomplaining efficiency of all simple mechanicals.

Up on the bridge of the corvette, the captain paced impatiently, often looking out the main window. At this range, the fierce lightfight was no more than flickers of red and green between silvery motes that were only visible when they caught the light of Thyferra's distant sun just so. At any moment, he expected to see the deadly blue points of incoming torpedoes among them. "Is our hyperspace course plotted?" he asked the navigator.

"Aye, sir. We can jump as soon as we cast off."

The captain nodded, again peering out the front window. A part of him wanted to leave right now, but the Alliance needed every drop of the bacta now being brought aboard. He had to wait for the loadmaster down in the hold to tell him the cargo transfer was complete.

Just a few more minutes.

Captain Damerra couldn't believe what he saw in the bridge holotank. Amid a swarm of red blips, three green sparks still shone brightly. The two Rebel corvettes were intact. Only one bomber had gotten into torpedo range, and it had been destroyed moments after firing its second shot. Meanwhile, the pilots he'd thought to trap were cutting a swath through the Wisp's fighters.

As another red blip faded from the display, the starfighter coordinator grimaced and looked up at him from the crew pit. "That's all of Alpha gone, sir. Shall I order Delta Squadron to launch?"

Damerra returned the look, speechless. Finally words broke through the block in his throat. "Yes! Launch Delta, launch everything! GET THEM!"

As the officer gave the order, Damerra turned back to the display, red-faced and quaking with fury.

He wouldn't be humiliated again.

"Three, can you see Ranger?"

"I'm a little busy right now, Lead." Rapier had an eyeball and a squint on his tail and laser bolts were raining past his canopy, while another T/F danced around in his sights. He gritted his teeth and switched to single fire. Finally one of his shots severed the TIE's right solar panel and the fighter spun off to the left, out of control. Rather than a climb or a turn, the usual next move after making a kill, Rapier pitched down. It worked; both of his pursuers overshot. He pulled up again, already re-linking his cannons, and blew the Interceptor to flinders with four shots into the cockpit ball.

Ranger had been forced to chase down a bomber, the last of its formation, and was only now coming back to the fight. He dove in with a whoop, flaming one eyeball and scorching another on his first pass. The survivors closed in on him.

Zoom was concentrating on the Interceptors, which were almost as fast as the A-wings and mounted twice the guns. He would pick one and stay on its tail until it went down, then switch to the next. This meant he took a lot of hits from other fighters. He was constantly re-balancing his shields and feeding laser power to them. Once he heard his rear shields fizzle out, followed by the crunching sound of armor boiling away as Imp lasers chewed into his tail; he instantly disengaged and went full evasive, dreading the next shot that would finish him. But it didn't come.

"I don't see any more dupes, think we got them all?" asked Ranger.

"I sure hope so," Rapier replied. Flicking through targets on his CMD, he was glad to see that none were bombers. There were still plenty of T/Fs and T/Is, however. "How's everyone for missiles?"

Ranger didn't even look down at his console. "I'm out."

"I've got one left," Zoom reported with a strained chuckle. For a moment, he considered using it on the squint in front of him. His lasers still hadn't come back up to full power, which meant they were jolting his target and making the squint pilot worry, but not doing much actual damage. But he persisted, and finally the Interceptor came apart as one of his shots hit something important.

"Same here. Better hold on to them, just in case," Rapier advised. Then he had to break left as yet another pair of eyeballs came into range and started firing at him.

Two or three eternities later, a very welcome announcement broke into their radio chatter. "Red Group, this is Flaa'kra 1. We've completed our docking operation and are hypering out immediately. Flaa'kra 2 reports same."

"Copy that, Flaa'kra 1," Zoom acknowledged. Now came possibly the most difficult part: disengaging from the furball without getting shot by any of the Wisp's seemingly endless supply of fighters. "Red Eighteen, you first, we'll cover you."

"Yes sir, heading for home." And not a second too soon, Ranger thought. Resisting the temptation to finish off the eyeball he'd just wounded, he adjusted his power settings for maximum speed and rocketed away. Predictably, another TIE tried to follow, but Zoom and Rapier pounced and shredded him in a crossfire.

As Ranger's A-wing slowed for a moment, then streaked out of existence, Zoom took a deep breath. "Okay, Three, you're next."

"Zoom, are you sure?" The memory of what had happened last time Red Leader covered a withdrawal was fresh in both their minds.

"That's an order, Three," Zoom confirmed, perhaps putting more bite into the words than necessary. "I'm right behind you."

With the barest of shrugs, Rapier shored up his shields with his remaining laser power and pulled the lever at his side. The stars rushed toward him and merged into the swirling tunnel of hyperspace.

Zoom watched Rapier's blip vanish from his scope, leaving only Imperials and the faint blue dots of the now-empty Xucphra containers. Ahead was open space; to the rear, at least four or five TIEs plus the looming wedge of the Wisp.

"Time to earn that callsign, St.Clair," he muttered as he put all his shields in the rear arc and cut laser and shield power to nothing. Acceleration pushed him into his seat, hard. True to form, Zoom was one of those pilots who preferred to fly with his inertial compensator set to a little less than full. He grinned against the extra pressure and watched the speed indicator climb. By the time it reached 180, even the squints had been left far behind. Nothing but a TIE Advanced could keep up with an A-wing at full throttle. Tossing a cheerful salute over his shoulder, Zoom activated his hyperdrive and outraced light itself.

"Sir?"

Damerra stared blankly out the bridge window, at the countless points of distant stars. The Rebels had gotten away from him again. Worse, they had done it without a single casualty, while the Wisp had lost over thirty fighters - almost three full squadrons, including all of Alpha and Beta. Such losses might be acceptable as the cost of victory, but here they only made his defeat more devastating.

"Sir?"

How could this have happened? Intelligence reports said that Red was a training squadron, made up of rookies and a handful of washed-up instructors. Years ago, a Red Squadron had destroyed the Death Star at the Battle of Yavin; but it had been wiped out during the same battle. The only thing these pilots shared was the name.

Yet these "rookies" had taken out nearly a squadron each of his pilots. Impossible.

"Captain!"

The voice of Lieutenant Nievel finally penetrated the fog that had wrapped itself around his thoughts. Damerra turned to the junior officer. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Yes?"

"Captain... Moff Gerom requests an update on the ambush."

Of course. The final shovel of dirt on his career. Damerra looked around the bridge, at the faces of his crew. Some were sympathetic. Some, like his executive officer, Commander Banno, were barely concealing smirks or knowing looks. Command politics aboard a Star Destroyer were always fierce. No doubt Banno anticipated an opportunity for his own advancement.

Damerra tried to care, and couldn't. All he could think of was his failure.

"Take it in my office," he mumbled. Even in his daze, he forced himself to straighten his back and square his shoulders. He was still a Captain of the Imperial Navy, and he would not disgrace the uniform further by slinking away from his command.

He strode stiffly down the bridge walkway. The door closed behind him like the blade of a guillotine.

[One week later]

Red Squadron was assembled on the Regis' flight deck to bid farewell to their departing CO. Spectre was finally well enough to travel. A shuttle would take him to Red Base, where he would spend more time recovering from his time in Imperial custody and relearning how to fly with a prosthetic arm.

Captain Daly and several of his officers were also present. The pilots wore their flight suits, while the crew were in their dress uniforms. Even Pappy had found a clean set of coveralls for the occasion. The only one wearing civilian clothes was Spectre. It felt strange, and made him even more determined to get back in a starfighter as soon as he could.

Spectre shook the hands of the Captain, Zoom and Kyp. "Gentlemen, it's been a privilege serving with you. May we all meet again in happier times."

Daly smiled and nodded. "Clear skies, Commander. And good luck."

"Thank you. Kelly, Rob, it's easier to leave knowing that the squadron is in good hands." To Kyp, he added, "I couldn't have asked for a better XO. Thanks for everything."

Careful of Spectre's injuries, Kyp gave him a brief hug. "Take care of yourself, Jeff. May the Force be with you."

Spectre turned to Zoom and lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. "Don't worry. You'll do fine."

Zoom chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

Spectre grinned. "No, I just remember what it was like for me when I took over. So here are a few words of wisdom from the Old Man. First, don't get stuck behind a desk all the time. And second, don't try to fill my boots; make the squadron your own. You're Red Leader now. So lead."

Zoom nodded solemnly, then took a deep breath and barked, "Comp-nee, SALUTE!" With a fair amount of precision for Alliance personnel, the pilots and officers came to attention and saluted. Spectre returned the gesture of respect. It felt so natural that it wasn't until the salute ended, several heartbeats later, that he realized he'd done it with his artificial hand.

A slow smile crept across Spectre's face as he turned and climbed up the ramp into the waiting shuttle. He wouldn't be out of the Show for long.

That afternoon, ship's time, the pilots of Red Squadron were again gathered in one location: the squadron briefing room. Among them were a few new faces. The same shuttle that Spectre had left on had also dropped off three pilots, one of them - Stjepan "Kiki" Bedic - a recent graduate from the Training Wing. The other two were recruits who'd been certified for combat duty: Mario "Phoenix" Rogers and Sazril "Yale" Murshid. Zoom made the introductions, then waited for everyone to settle down before he began the briefing.

"First of all, we have received confirmation that the bacta shipment we obtained from the Xucphra Corporation has been distributed to where it is most needed. That's a lot of brave, wounded men and women who will live because of our efforts. The Admiral sends his personal thanks, and those of Mon Mothma, to all of Red Squadron."

The announcement was received with the expected amount of cheering and back-slapping. Zoom added his own applause, continuing when the room had quieted again.

"I've also been told that more bacta is now in the supply pipeline, so our shortage should be over soon. And, by the way, I hear that our contact with Xucphra denies any involvement in that Imperial ambush we ran into."

"Naturally," drawled Rapier. "That Star Destroyer just happened to show up at the same time we did."

Zoom smirked and nodded. "Which brings me to my last bit of news. Three times in as many weeks, we've been attacked by the ISD Wisp. Either her captain has some kind of personal vendetta against Red Squadron, or he's under orders to hunt us down. Either way... we're a target." He paused to let that sink in. "Now, I've been speaking with Starfighter Command. And with this bacta problem taken care of, we've been authorized to go on a hunt of our own. We're going to track down the Wisp and destroy it, before they get us."

There was a moment of silence, then an approving murmur filled the briefing room. Kelly smiled and turned to the holoprojector. An image appeared, wavered, and stabilized: the major systems of the sector, represented by tiny colored spheres circling slightly larger suns. The whole cluster revolved slowly around the center, like a galaxy in miniature.

"The first thing we need to do is gather intel on the Wisp's movements. We know the Wisp is operating in this sector, and possibly the adjacent ones, but we don't know her patrol route or schedule. Probes will be placed in several systems - here, here, here and here - to monitor traffic." Zoom used a pointer to indicate the systems, and little probe icons appeared next to each. "We'll also be leaving a few in deep space, close to nav buoys."

"These probes will be deployed by the CRV Sharp. I need two pilots to go along in case the Sharp runs into any trouble. You'll be in X-wings, flying escort." Zoom gestured again and the appropriate icons blinked into existence. "This is a long-duration mission. It should take four or five days to deploy all the probes. The corvette is equipped to dock with your fighters, but you'll still be spending a lot of time in the cockpit. If you're lucky, it'll just be uncomfortable and incredibly boring."

"Hey, I'll go," said Iddo "Wire" Geva from the back row. "I could use some vacation time."

Zoom nodded. "Kyp, you're his wing; you want this one too?"

"Mmm... sure. I'm up for it."

"Okay. Any other questions?"

Kiki cautiously raised his hand. "Sir, what will the rest of us be doing while they're gone?"

Zoom chuckled. "Well, Stjepan... did I get that right?"

"Close enough, sir."

"I'm afraid you'll be going back in the simulator for a while. We're all going to start practicing runs on a Star Destroyer." Noting Kiki's crestfallen look, Zoom added, "You'll get your chance at the real thing soon enough. When it comes, you'll be glad of the extra practice."

"Yes, sir."

"Anyone else? Okay. Rob, Iddo, you've got an hour to get ready. Your X-wings will be waiting for you on the flight deck. Everyone else, check the schedule posted outside the sim chamber. Dismissed."

[Deep Space...]

Kyp tried to stretch in the cramped cockpit of his X-Wing. "Wire, the Sharp has made its jump to hyperspace, we'd better follow."

"Roger that, lead," Wire responded tiredly. "I thought the X-Wing was comfortable until today."

"Just be glad you're not in an A-Wing," Kyp responded, "now that is hell after 6 hours in the cockpit.... Jump in 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. now."

As the star lines elongated into the swirl of hyperspace Kyp relaxed preparing for the next drop off point in three hours.

"This is the Sharp," Lt. Commander Davis reported. "We have dropped this probe off. We are heading to our next jump point, it'll take us about 6 minutes."

"Thanks," Kyp responded and then added jokingly, "I thought dropping that probe was going to take all day!"

"Just a small problem with the launch mechanism, it's always been unreliable," Davis replied.

The corvette turned and started moving again, its engines glowing brightly as the crew tried to get back on schedule. The two escorting X-Wings easily managed to keep up, lazily circling the corvette.

Iddo 'Wire' Geva was bored. So far this mission had been a milk run. They had not even seen a neutral IFF signature, but at least that meant that the mission would be over more quickly. The seat of the X-Wing was uncomfortable even in zero-gravity. He could not find any way to sit more comfortably, as the seat seemed to find new ways to torture him every time he moved.

Abruptly, an alarm in Wire's cockpit began to wail. He looked quickly at his R2's report.

"Sir, I have 2 Imperial corvettes exiting hyperspace," Wire reported.

"You had better add 4 freighters to that," Kyp replied. "We will not engage those ships, we must protect the Sharp. I expect an Imperial gunboat patrol to arrive soon."

Kyp glanced through his CMD and noticed that 6 TIE Fighters had been launched. "I see eyeballs coming for us, we will engage them."

"Roger, Kyp," Wire said, his discomfort forgotten.

"Don't worry," Kyp encouraged. "The odds are only 3 to 1 against us. And they are just some convoy escort pilots, probably only here because they are too useless to even be cannon fodder on a frigate."

The two X-Wings locked their S-foils and sped towards the six TIE Fighters. The distance closed rapidly. Wire looked as the distance ticked down. He was waiting for the command to break. Waiting, for the burst of adrenaline. Waiting to pull back on his control stick. 3 km... 2.5 km.. 2km. 1.6 km.

"Break DOWN!" Kyp shouted over the comm as he pushed his control stick to the bottom left. His X-Wing veered down and away. He pulled up again to get off a quad shot at one of the eyeballs. It exploded as its fragile hull was hit by three blasts, its solar panels spinning spectacularly.

Wire pushed hard down on his stick and saw a wave of laser fire pass over his cockpit. The Imperial formation had broken up, caught off guard by the downward break. He pulled up and tried to get one of the confused TIEs in his sights. It dodged to one side quickly, the laser blasts just missing. Wire tried to follow but the Imperial craft was too fast.

Kyp was about to pull the trigger when suddenly he felt and heard impacts to his rear shields. He went evasive to shake his tail. Laser fire sailed past his cockpit as he dove this way and that. Suddenly a TIE shot across his forward view. His finger pressed his trigger in reflex. The TIE exploded and spun around, one solar panel flying off.

Another TIE closed on Wire's tail. Wire pulled on his stick but the more manoeuvrable TIE stayed tight on his six. Desperately he pulled his throttle to 0. The over-confident TIE pilot overshot right into Wire's sights. He let off two shots. The TIE exploded spectacularly as its oxygen tanks ruptured. Wire pushed his throttle back to full, narrowly missing being hit by a hail of laser fire.

Kyp noticed that the fight had changed from a desperate situation to a one the two Alliance pilots could easily handle. Kyp covered Wire for a while; his shields were a good way down, but he had done well. Together they managed to dispatch another TIE quickly. The other two tried to disengage.

"This is the Sharp, we register 2 gunboats exiting hyperspace," Davis reported.

"Wire, do you think you could handle these TIEs while I go and sort out those gunboats?" Kyp said as he turned his X-Wing towards the gunboats. "When you've finished the TIEs, come and give me a hand. We don't want them to have time to think about the Sharp."

Wire did not reply as he rolled to keep on the TIE's six. He let off another quad blast. The TIE disintegrated. He turned his attention, and guns, to the final TIE. The TIE pilot fought a desperate battle to stay alive.

Kyp sped off towards the gunboats. He put all power he could into his engines in the hope that he could get into gun range before they fired their missiles. The warning tone started as the gunboats tried to lock onto him. As soon as he could he started to fire quad shots at the Imperial, who broke off as his shields got eaten away.

Wire winced as the last TIE fired another couple of shots into his rear shields. Suddenly the TIE flew in front of him. He fired. A solar panel ripped off under the stress and the TIE spun away out of control. Its pilot ejected a moment before it exploded.

Kyp fired again at the lead gunboat's strong shields. He broke again seconds before the fire from its wingman passed through the space he had left. He looked at his shield indicator: outer shields gone, primary shields orange. Abruptly a wave of orange laser bolts shot past him impacting on his target. Its shields failed.

Wire pulled up seconds before he hit the lead gunboat. "These things are real tough!" he shouted into his comm.

The lead GUN came into Kyp's sights and he fired. The gunboat's engines sparked. Again. The debris shot by Kyp's cockpit. He sat immobilised for a second, as he realised that if he had been a meter closer his flight would have ended.

Wire looped onto the six of the gunboat following Kyp and slowed to pummel it. It started to move desperately. Its shields started to fail. Soon after it exploded spectacularly into hundreds of pieces as Wire hit a critical component. Its missile bays then exploded, scorching Wire's shields.

Kyp and Wire started charging their depleted shields as quickly as they could, sure that more Imperials would be coming soon. They were not wrong. 20 seconds after the first two GUNs had been destroyed, another pair came in looking for revenge.

"Those GUNs are lookin' at us dirty," Kyp joked. "Let's take 'em out!"

"Roger, lead."

The two X-Wings turned and powered their way towards the Gunboats.

"We'll be out of here in 1 minute," Davis reported. "Follow us as soon as you can get a clear jump."

"Wilco," Kyp responded. All his concentration then focused on the closing gunboat.

Lt. Finnis looked at the closing X-Wings. He targeted the lead X-Wing with missiles. As the lock turned red, he launched a volley of missiles. Seconds later, his wingman did the same. Both of the X-Wings started to fire. Finnis saw four explosions in front of him. He quickly flicked to lasers and started to fire, seeing that the X-Wings' shields were low. He flew straight firing. Abruptly the X-Wing broke left and most of the laser shots missed him. At the same time the shields of the gunboat dropped 75% as the X-Wing's lasers ate into them. Finnis turned his GUN to follow the X-Wing, angry that he had been so overconfident.

A alarm went off in the cockpit and Finnis looked to see that the Corvette had just entered hyperspace. Finnis looked up and saw that he had overshot the X-Wing that was now flying in a straight line away from him. "I've got you now," he thought to himself. Suddenly the X-Wing broke upwards, a hail of orange laser fire shot through the space where the X-Wing had been. Finnis tried desperately to turn out of the hail of fire, realising his wingman must have been destroyed. Suddenly another set of lasers started to impact on his shields. He looked down and gasped. His hand reached for the ejection lever. The gunboat exploded around him. Agony ran through his body as an exploding canister ripped him into pieces.

"OK, time to bug out of here," Kyp said. "Link to my navicomp."

The two X-Wings moved towards the jump point, then they moved forwards at an ever increasing speed until they entered hyperspace.

The two X-Wings touched down in the Regis's main hanger. The ground crew ran up to the fighters, pulling the ladders. The canopies of both fighters started to open. The crews helped the haggard pilots out. They tried to stand, but their legs kept giving out from under them. A medical team helped the pilots onto a stretcher.

Zoom walked up to Kyp. "How'd it go?"

"Fine. Just don't let me see another X-Wing for a month," he joked.

"Don't worry," Zoom replied. "You won't be out of the medbay for a while, I should imagine."

[A week later...]

Zoom walked towards the main simulator room where Red Squadron's new Training Officer was putting several of the new pilots through their paces on the Star Destroyer destruction missions. As Zoom walked into the sim room, the sim officer snapped to attention.

"At ease," Zoom said crisply. "How's Ranger treating them?"

"Well, he's had them in their for 2 hours now," the officer reported. "This mission is nearly over, by the looks of things."

"OK, I'll wait."

A few minutes later Ranger walked out of the sims, with Yale, Kiki and Phoenix following behind him. They were all blinking in the harsh light of the room.

"...that's how you take out a Star Destroyer. At this rate, you may just be ready to help take out the ISD Wisp." Ranger suddenly noticed Zoom. "Dismissed."

The pilots filed tiredly out of the sim room, with its intermittent background pings and beeps. "How are they doing, Neill?"

"Great. They are all showing good scores in the sims, and they are all improving. They could probably take out an ISD now, but we can't let them get cocky now, can we? Overconfidence can so often lead to your death, or so my basic training instructor always said." Ranger grinned.

"The Regis needs re-supplying before we can take on a Star Destroyer. I was just wondering if you would lead the escort force. You won't need to leave for another 5 hours. The briefing will be in three and a half. And you can pick your wingmen for this one."

"OK. I think I will take Kiki, Phoenix and Yale. They should get in a bit of actual flight time before our future engagements, which look as though they could get a bit hairy."

An R2 unit let out a high pitched squeal, as the two pilots walked out of the sim room.

On the bridge of the ISD Wisp, Captain Damerra was looking over the status reports from his ship's section heads. His XO was standing rigidly by his side. The tension on the bridge was stifling as the crew expected the Captain to be upset by the bad reports.

"Three squadrons of our TIEs destroyed, another six TIEs out of commission."

"We do not have enough spares to get them operational again," the XO stammered.

"And now the hyperdrive is unreliable," the Captain grumbled.

"We will receive a re-supply convoy in two weeks, though. We should have a replacement then."

"Very good. We will be able to continue our campaign against that infernal squadron when we have been re-supplied."

The XO looked slightly relieved. He had been expecting his captain to go into a rage, especially after he had shot his former XO for insubordination after his failed ambush of Red Squadron. The crew all knew that the captain was on his last chance in the eyes of Moff Gerom.

"Lt. Commander Nievel, in a week and a half I will be leaving the ship for several days to give a status report to Moff Gerom. You will have command of the ship during this time. Do not fail me," Damerra growled softly to his new XO.

"Yes, sir."

Kiki, Phoenix and Yale were waiting in Red Squadron's private briefing room. They had all been called there half an hour before. No explanation had been given, but they had been told to get into flight suits. They were talking to each other about why they may have been called there. They rose to attention as Ranger and Zoom walked in.

"At ease, gentlemen," Ranger said. "We will be escorting the Regis's re-supply convoy here. Zoom will now brief you on the mission."

Ranger and Zoom sat down at the front of the small room as the three pilots also sat down. The three pilots looked a lot happier than they had after their sim session. Their faces were filled with questions.

Zoom leaned forward in his chair. "You will be escorting a vital convoy. It contains the warheads we will need for our upcoming engagement, as well as spares for the Regis and our fighters. The convoy will consist of 2 corvettes and 4 freighters. You must ensure that all of the corvettes and as many of the freighters as possible get here. If we do not receive these supplies our mission against the Wisp will be held back, or it may even have to be aborted."

"Sir, what risks is the convoy likely to face?" Kiki asked.

"This sector is often patrolled by an Imperial gunboat squadron. That's your most likely threat," Zoom said. "Also, one of our squadrons killed the leader of a local pirate group when a convoy was attacked, and they've announced their intent to avenge him. But as they are currently being hunted by the Imps as well, we don't expect them to be too much of a problem."

Ranger and Zoom looked around the room to see if there would be any more questions. As there were none, Ranger continued.

"We will be flying X-wings for this mission. We will not exit the area until the convoy has completely left the area. Again, at least one of those freighters has to make it through. I'll see you down in the hangar in 5 minutes."

Zoom stood, and the other pilots did likewise. "All right, gentlemen, mount up."

"Aye, sir."

They had been flying up and down the supply convoy for several minutes, taking the opportunity to charge their shields, when Kiki spoke up.

"Captain, I have new targets on my scope."

"I see them." Ranger pulled out of his slow loop around CRV Hammer 2 and turned to face the two new arrivals. "Computer says they're X-wings, but I don't get an Alliance IFF..." He changed to a different frequency. "X-wing Flight, this is Red Eighteen. Please identify yourselves."

The voice that came back was distorted by the comm system, but still recognizably female. "This is Boris One, Rebel, and it's payback time! We're here to teach you not to mess with the Sabercats!"

Ranger grimaced and switched back to the squadron frequency. "Red Group, those X-wings are pirates. Accelerate to attack speed and engage."

"This is Thirteen, I'm with you." Phoenix formed up on Ranger's starboard S-foil and adjusted his throttle to keep up with his wing-leader.

"Yale here, order acknowledged."

As the lead freighters of the convoy fell behind, Ranger wondered at his sense of unease. It wasn't the imminent combat that concerned him, but the number of opponents they faced. Surely the pirates knew the convoy would be well guarded. Was this all they could scrape together for an attack?

Or was this just a diversion?

Before Ranger could act on his feeling, the red box on his HUD that indicated a hostile targeting lock lit up. The two formations of X-wings were now in range of each other. Immediately, an orange laser bolt smacked against his forward shields. He went evasive, seeing more red lasers fly past in the other direction as Phoenix returned fire.

Boris 2 was the first to be destroyed, double-teamed by Yale and Kiki. The pilot, inexperienced and eager for some Rebel blood, didn't break off as his shields dissolved under their combined quad fire. He tried to hold his fighter steady, but the shuddering got worse. Moments later, the X-wing became a bright exclamation point of smoke and light.

The other pirate didn't last much longer. Ranger and Phoenix sparred with her for almost a minute, trading snap shots, before Yale and Kiki joined the fight. In that lethal crossfire, the pirate X-wing simply came apart, the pieces exploding separately.

"Kiki, Yale, hold up here. Phoenix, come with me. I've got a bad feeling."

"Right with you, sir."

Resetting his laser charge to even levels, Ranger sped back toward the convoy. His intuition was rewarded a moment later by the appearance of another faint cluster of blue blips in the distance.

"Looks like Y-wings... dammit! They're after the convoy all right."

"That's not all," noted Phoenix. "I also read two A-wings right in front of them."

"How did pirates get their hands on A-wings?" asked Ranger indignantly. He took a deep breath and flexed his gloved fingers on the stick, forcing himself to be calm despite the sudden worsening of the situation. "Okay... you take those two. I'm on the Y-wings."

"Copy that."

"Ranger, two more X-wings hypering in. We're on them."

"I copy, Yale."

Ranger targeted the lead Y-wing and watched the range spool down on his CMD, wishing he had more than one torpedo in each tube. But that was why they needed this convoy so badly. And a torpedo up his snout should be just the thing to discourage the pirate flight leader from continuing his run.

Before he was close enough to fire, his own missile-lock indicator began to blink. It was still amber when his R2 shrieked a warning. Ranger cursed, switching back to lasers as he brought the nose around to bear on the A-wing that had just fired at him. "Target that missile!"

The droid obliged immediately. The incoming concussion missile was almost dead in his sights. He fired two quad shots and saw the warhead explode. The A-wing was right behind it, coming at him head on. Ranger kept firing. With four lasers against two, and heavier shields, it was no contest. The flash of the pirate fighter's engines exploding was even brighter than the missile detonation.

Ranger hastily rebalanced his shields to make up for the hits that he'd taken and looked around wildly for the Y-wings. There they were: four of them, in V formation, just about to pass him as they headed for the defenseless freighters. He knew that if they were on a torpedo run, he had only seconds to act. He dove in on the nearest one. Every beep of the torpedo lock cycle seemed to take forever. He waited as long as he dared, then fired.

The torpedo took down the Y-wing's rear shields and a few laser shots finished the job. One engine exploded immediately as the fighter broke up, the other spinning crazily for a moment before doing the same.

Now the leader was in Ranger's sights. Blind to all but his mission, the pirate kept flying straight ahead. It took several quad blasts to his rear shields to get his attention, giving Ranger cause to regret that the Y-wing was such a sturdy fighter. Finally the Sabercat began to turn away. He chased it with a few more shots before looking for his next target.

His heart sank as he saw the blue trails of proton torpedoes already streaking away from the last two Y-wings. For a moment he considered trying to chase them down. He knew it was more important, though, to keep the pirates from launching any more. He swooped in on the slower craft, a predator among nerfs, all four lasers firing in unison.

Meanwhile, the other Red pilots were all engaged in their own one-on-one duels. Phoenix had his foe on the ropes, but the nimbler A-wing kept dancing out of his sights just as he was about to take the kill shot. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he set his lasers to single-shot and began spraying fire all around the pirate. Again the A-wing jerked aside, though one of his shots splashed across what was left of its shields. It slowed noticeably. Phoenix put two more shots into it and watched it explode, then sagged back in his chair with relief.

Kiki and Yale were similarly stalemated by the two pirate X-wings. Whenever one fighter got a good position on his opponent, the other wingman would force him to break off the attack. Their twisting, looping paths through space were the very definition of a furball. In this sort of dogfight, it all came down to which pilot - nerves raw with fear and fatigue - would make the first mistake.

Yale hissed as an X-wing flew across his nose not more than twenty meters away. He cut his throttle almost to zero and watched it soar away. Just then, his brain finished processing a detail of the near-collision: the markings on that fighter's S-foils were green, not red. His fingers were already moving, selecting torpedoes, pulling the trigger. The projectile shot from one side of his craft and barely had time to arm itself before plowing into the rear of the other X-wing, detonating on contact. The fuel cells cooked off a split second later. Debris pattered off Yale's shields.

"Nice shot!"

The voice, Yale realized distantly, was Kiki's. Then more orange lines shot past him, and he yanked back on the stick just in time to avoid sharing the unfortunate pirate's fate.

The freighter was trying to get away, but its engines just weren't up to the task of outrunning torpedoes. They came in from the side, converging as they homed on their target.

The first pair struck, blossoming into fireballs along the surface of the shields. The ship shook. Another two hit a second later - boom, boom - and still the shields held, but barely.

The fifth explosion buckled the shields and caved in the wall of the port hold.

On the bridge, someone started to shout an order.

The sixth torpedo went off inside the port hold, consuming nearly half the ship in one blast. Overstressed conduits twisted and broke, venting their contents. Sparks flew from exposed wiring. Secondary explosions burst along the crippled freighter's hull as it began a slow roll to starboard.

A sheet of flame swept across the bridge before the oxygen that fed it was sucked away by hull breaches.

With a final flash of a fusion reactor going critical, Outbound 1 died.

There was no reply from the other pilot. A moment later, another small explosion flared and faded in the distance. Phoenix checked his forward sensors and saw only a single green blip remaining. Ranger's voice came back, cold and hard. "Copy that, Thirteen."

Phoenix was about to say something else, but right then his R2 started whistling and beeping again. Two flickers of pseudo-motion against the starfield resolved into another pair of A-wings, dropping in only a few klicks away. Shaking his head, Phoenix moved to intercept, closing to gun range before either of them could get a missile lock.

The second flight of Y-wings arrived a moment later. Ranger was right on top of them this time. The startled pirates, not expecting to come under attack moments after dropping out of hyperspace, broke formation and scattered as lasers raked across their tails. Ranger chose a target and followed. His fire was accurate and merciless.

"My sensors showed uniforms, cleaning supplies... that sort of thing."

"Well, I guess that's not too bad. We can't afford to lose either of those corvettes, though."

"Right... hey, there he goes." The pirate X-wing blurred and vanished into infinity.

"Stay alert, there might be more of them."

"Yes."

"What now?" he wondered aloud. Looking out his starboard window, he could see the hammerhead shapes of two corvettes coasting to a halt. By chance, he was the closest one to them.

"Ranger to Red Group. Looks like the Empire's decided to join the party too. What's your status?"

"Yale here. No more X-wings. Kiki's fine. I'm a little banged up, but okay."

"This is Phoenix. I need help with these A-wings."

"Copy that. Yale, help Phoenix. I'll... I've got bombers launching from one of the corvettes. I'm on 'em!"

As he finished speaking, his screen showed a group of squints leaving the other corvette. Right now, they were only distractions; he ignored them and lined up on the tight formation of TIE bombers. He'd expended his second torpedo against the pirates, so he'd have to do this with guns only.

Emerald fire clawed at his shields, carving away the last of the outer layer he'd built up earlier. Then he was through and closing on the bombers. They flew wingtip to bent wingtip, demonstrating typical Imperial precision. Ranger started with the leftmost, hitting it with two bursts of quad lasers. Some of the shots went over or above its wide body, but enough hit to make it veer off. He banked a bit and lined up on the one in the middle. This time he held down the trigger until the bomber disintegrated. One of the double hulls came hurtling back at his canopy. He ducked reflexively, jerking the stick aside to let it pass. It exploded some distance behind him, jolting him in his seat.

Ranger looked to the last just as it spat a blue torpedo at the convoy. He fired. His first salvo punched holes in the dupe's solar panel and ripped across its back armor. The second went high. The third must have hit the torpedo magazine, because the entire bomber explosively ceased to exist. He felt the X-wing shake and groan as he flew right through the fireball.

As his field of vision cleared, more green lines etched themselves across it. Ranger frantically dumped the rest of his laser power to shore up his weakened shields and dove, trying to evade the interceptors on his tail while looking for the wounded bomber.

There.

Fire.

Boom.

"Maybe he hates Imps even more than he does us," offered Yale dubiously. "Should we let him go?"

Phoenix considered. "Form up and follow. We've got to go help Ranger anyway. If that pirate wants to call it quits after that..."

The three X-wings settled into a new formation, with Phoenix on point, heading for the corvettes as well.

Taking advantage of the respite, Ranger disengaged and continued charging his lasers and shields. His approaching comrades were a welcome sight.

"How about letting us have some kills, huh?" suggested Phoenix, his tone one of playful jealousy.

"Be my guest," Ranger replied wearily, putting more distance between himself and the dogfight. "Plenty for all... is that...?" He trailed off as he got a good look at the fighter currently engaging the squints.

"Affirm. Better tag him as neutral for now, I guess."

"... copy that."

Meanwhile, almost ignored by the various starfighters, the corvettes that had launched the TIEs decided to exercise the better part of valor and engaged their own hyperdrives. The interceptors they left behind were not so fortunate. In less than a minute, both were reduced to rapidly dissipating clouds of gas and fragments.

Then, if possible, things got more tense.

Phoenix keyed his mike first. "Thanks for the assist, uh..."

"Call me Davis." The lone A-wing circled warily, while the four X-wings did the same.

"Right. Look... how about we all just agree to go our separate ways?"

Ranger cut into the transmission. "Mario, these scum killed everyone on that freighter! And they would have done the same to the rest, if we'd let them!"

"Yeah, and you just killed every friend I had, Rebel!" answered Davis. "So don't go gettin' all high and mighty on me!"

"Neill, sir, throttle back! Both of you, calm down. Please." Phoenix wished he could wipe at the sweat forming on his brow. "Revenge is what got us into this mess. And look what it's cost us."

For a moment there was nothing but the random crackle of static, as both sides considered Mario's words.

"All right."

"Okay."

The A-wing stopped its circling and headed away. No one moved to pursue it.

"Davis... do you... I mean, you're a good pilot." Phoenix cleared his throat. "Have you ever thought about joining the Alliance?"

The laugh that came back was harsh, with no humor in it. "Not a chance, Rebel."

"All right. Sounds like you all did your best... and while you did lose one freighter, you brought the rest of the convoy in safe. The supplies are already being brought on board. Good job."

"Thank you, sir." None of the pilots looked very happy about it, except perhaps for Kiki, who seemed to still be keyed up from his first combat mission. Zoom made a mental note to talk to each of them later, in private.

"Get some rest, gentlemen. Dismissed."

"The Oboota system," said Zoom as the holoprojector hummed to life, "is an uninhabited backwater, with no significant resources or Imperial presence. Until now."

A crimson spearpoint appeared in the center of the display, some distance from the cratered grey orb of Oboota II. No one in the briefing room needed to be told which Star Destroyer the icon represented.

"Shortly after Ranger and the others left to meet up with our supply convoy, one of our probes reported that the Wisp had failed to arrive at its next scheduled destination. Dragon went out in a Y-wing Longprobe to check out the systems along its last known course. It took him a few days, but he finally found it... here." Zoom paused a moment to let the lieutenant bask in his justly deserved glory.

"Now, it gets better. Analysis of intercepted transmissions has told us that the Wisp's hyperdrive is in bad shape. It was probably overdue for maintenance anyway, and with all of that jumping around looking for us..."

"It must be groaning like a bantha in heat," commented Kyp, resulting in laughter and catcalls from the other pilots.

"That's about the size of it." Zoom grinned. "Not to mention sucking down a huge amount of extra power with each jump. Rather than push it any further or try to make field repairs, the commander of the Wisp - one Captain Aldo Damerra - has requisitioned a replacement unit. The new hyperdrive should arrive there about a week from now, along with some shiny new TIEs to replace all the ones we've shot up, crew replacements, and assorted other supplies."

"Obviously, we want to attack before then, while the Wisp is still at its most vulnerable. That gives us a short window for our strike. Also, 'vulnerable' is a relative term when talking about an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. The Wisp still has at least three full squadrons of fighters and enough turbolasers to blow the Regis out of space if we brought her in to assist. And there's always the possibility that Damerra might risk a jump to safety despite the condition of his hyperdrive."

There were some murmurs from the audience, but Kyp noticed that Zoom did not seem overly concerned.

"Fortunately, we'll be getting some support on this operation."

Zoom touched a control and the display cleared. The sharp lines of the Wisp were replaced by the lumpy ovoid form of a Mon Calamari cruiser. Below it appeared the words CRS LIBERTY; above it, the emblem of Rogue Squadron revolved.

Rapier spoke for everyone with a long whistle. "The Rogues, huh?"

Zoom nodded. "Normally we'd ask for help from Blue, but apparently they and Wolfshead are busy with something else. So I sent the request up through channels and, what do you know, the Liberty was in the neighborhood."

"What about Buccaneer and Corsair?" asked Dragon. "Are they in on this too?"

"I'm afraid not. It seems they had an important date with an Imperial supply depot. But the Rogues are between assignments for the moment, and willing to give us a hand. And with the Liberty on our side, the odds should be just about even."

"Even?" Redjed laughed. "Stang, three TIE squadrons against us and Rogue... we've got THEM outnumbered!"

Zoom smiled, but waved his hands for quiet. "Now, don't anyone go painting a Star Destroyer on your fuselage yet. The Rogues are backing us up, but we're the ones who will be out there in the thick of it. Getting cocky could be your last mistake - and then some TIE pilot gets to paint an X-wing on his fighter."

Having reined in their enthusiasm a little, he continued. "We'll be meeting up with the Liberty sometime tomorrow, at a rendezvous point in deep space. We'll spend another day or two coordinating our attack. Then, as soon as we're ready, we go. And may the Force be with us."

[The next day]

"Trim it up, Seven," warned Kyp, glancing back over his shoulder. His wingman's A-wing had dropped back almost a full klick from the usual position on his starboard flank. To Kyp, sloppy formation meant sloppy flying.

"Okay, but I'm telling you, there's no one out here."

Kyp and Wire were on patrol, orbiting the Regis at a distance of between eight and ten kilometers. The frigate and the two A-wings were the only objects for several light-years in any direction, unless one counted the possibility of an uncharted asteroid or other bit of cosmic flotsam. Lit only by distant suns, its sublight engines shut down, the Regis was a dim shape against the backdrop of eternal night. The pale glow from its various windows and ports transformed the frigate into a minor constellation.

Despite the remoteness of this meeting place, it was not impossible that they might be discovered. The 85^th Assault Squadron was known to be patrolling this sector, along with an Imperial frigate or two. And even with the Wisp out of action for a while (soon to be permanently so, if Red Squadron had anything to say about it), there was still the local Star Destroyer group to worry about. As a precaution, the Regis had been on combat alert since it arrived almost two hours ago.

Redjed and Carcajou had drawn the first hour-long shift, and Kyp and Wire the second. With ten minutes to go, Wire was discovering the truth of the XO's recent remarks about spending long periods in an A-wing cockpit.

"Just a little while longer," Kyp assured him. "Then we can go back in and relax in the Mug until the Liberty shows up."

"Great. I could really use a hot cup of caf right now."

At that moment, on the flight deck, the next pair of pilots were preparing to launch. Zoom pulled his canopy down and locked it in place as the deck crew disconnected fuel hoses and power leads. He glanced over at the bay to his left, where Rapier was doing the same.

Steve "Rapier" Naylor had been Red Leader himself once - two years ago, before Snyper or Spectre, before Hoth. He had retired from that position to allow others a chance to lead, and to get back to the simplicity of flying. Zoom respected the experienced pilot immensely. Having him as a wingman was one of the privileges of his current rank.

Zoom went through his preflight checklist quickly. The twin engines thrummed to life behind him and settled down to a low background drone. "Red One has two starts and is go." He engaged repulsors and rose a few meters off the deck, then retracted the landing gear and turned on his shields. A pair of green half-circles appeared on his board as the invisible bubble formed around his fighter.

"Red One to Red Three, comm check, over."

"Reading you fine, One. How's this?"

"I copy, Rapier." Zoom checked the mission clock on his console and looked over at the other A-wing hovering beside him. "Okay... we've got about twenty minutes until the Liberty is supposed to arrive, if they're on time. Let's get out there and give them a proper welcome."

Rapier nodded. "You've got lead; I'm right behind you."

Zoom nudged his repulsors again and drifted out into the center of the hangar. A crewman with a pair of lighted batons - the craft handler - was waiting for him. Waving the batons like a conductor before an orchestra, the handler guided him into launch position and then retreated. Zoom throttled up to half thrust and accelerated smoothly out through the magcon field.

The 2 A-Wings shot out of the hanger and quickly accelerated to maximum speed, shooting past Kyp and Wire as they returned tiredly from their patrol.

"Our seats in the Mug are still warm," Zoom joked across the squadron's private frequency to Kyp.

Kyp chuckled, "They'll stay warm if I have anything to do with it. Kyp out."

Kyp's flight slowed down and gracefully entered the hanger. Zoom circled his fighter around the Regis, taking in its familiar shape, its sleek deadliness waiting to be unleashed on any Imperial that dared to attack it. As Zoom circled he automatically started to charge up his outer shields, Rapier did the same.

"Red Flight A, we are tracking incoming ships from hyperspace. Feeding their vector to you now."

"Roger that Regis." Zoom replied.

Zoom powered up his engines to maximum and started to head towards the vector. His computer started to register incoming ships. Gunboats. He quickly looked at the estimated distance. 24 km. Zoom disregarded the gunboats and placed them into his computers memory, as a possible threat. He went back to circling the Regis.

"Red Flight A, sensors show that the gunboats are going to hyperspace, probably just a small patrol.." The duty officer reported.

"OK, continuing standard patrol." Zoom said. "We'll be on guard though."

Captain Daly sat alert in his command chair, it had been 2 minutes since the gunboat patrol had hypered in, he knew it would only be a matter of time before every Imperial in the sector was hypering towards them. The signal jamming the Regis was deploying would not stop the gunboats from transmitting when they exited hyperspace.

The entire primary bridge crew were arriving quickly after the alert. They walked quickly onto the bridge, then moved towards their stations, ignoring the noise and activity on the bridge. Lights flashed in all of the sunken stations.

"Lt McCall." Daly called to the Regis's comm officer. "How long until the Liberty is due to arrive?"

"About 12 minutes, Sir" She reported crisply.

Abruptly the ship wide alarm sounded. The sensor officer shouted that an Imperial Frigate had arrived. The bridge became more noisy as officers jabbed orders into the intercoms. The ship started to hum as the generators were brought up to full power. Lights dimmed for a second as shields and weapons were quickly charged.

"Order Red Squadron to engage." Daly shouted to Lt McCall. He turned towards the weapons station. "We will hold station until the Liberty arrives."

The Mug was busy as usual, most people who were on the Regis visited the Mug at regularly. The Mug was one of the most comfortable parts of the Regis, its lighting was much more gentle, giving the Mug a warm feeling. Around the walls there were several well lit sabbac tables. The bar bots worked quickly and efficiently behind the well lit and well stocked bar.

Kyp and Wire walked into the Mug, still in their flight suits, too tired to take them off. Their shadows were cut off as the main doors closed behind them. They walked up to the main bar where several of Red Squadrons pilots were talking and laughing. Sean 'Leo' Healey looked up and saw the two approaching pilots.

"Hey, Wire you look like you've been riding a bantha." He joked, noticing Wires difficulty in walking.

"You'd be like me if you had to sit in the cockpit of an A-Wing for an hour."

"I happen to think that the A-Wings cockpit is rather comfortable." Dragon remarked.

"What'll it be?" Phoenix replied to diffuse some of the developing tension, that had crept into the Squadron since the plans to destroy the ISD Wisp had been revealed. "I'm buying."

"Hot chocolate." Kyp responded.

"I'll have a Ithorian Tea, please." Wire said.

The bar droid quickly made the drinks and slid them up the bar to the waiting pilots, who started to drink them thirstily.

Abruptly the general alarm went off. The Red Squadron pilots looked at each other and started to run towards the nearest lifts. Leaving their drinks to get cold. Kyp and Wire got into the last available lift.

"Hangar, non-stop." Kyp shouted at the lifts AI unit. "Priority order, 156/2"

Zoom watched as the shape of a Frigate dropped out of hyperspace. Rapidly slowing down until it was only 6 km away from the Regis.

"Red Flight A, engage the enemy. We must hold out until the Liberty arrives." The Regis's Tactical Officer said.

Zoom did not respond, instead he set his ELS to combat mode and accelerated towards the frigate, which was starting to launch TIE Bombers.

"This should be easy..." Zoom said to Rapier. "... Wait. Detecting the launch of 3 T/As."

"You go after those bombers, I'll cover you." Rapier replied confidently. "Just try to take a T/A out as you pass them."

."OK, those T/Bs are as good as dead." Zoom replied more cordially than he felt at that moment.

Zoom watched the distance to his targeted T/A close rapidly. He switched to dual missiles the targeting computer started to beep. Once. Twice. An eternity passed. A continuous tone. The targeting reticule turned Red. Zooms fingers closed on the trigger. His A-Wing jumped as the 2 high velocity projectiles shot out of his craft. Homing on the T/A who was busy targeting Rapier. Impact. The T/A was ripped apart by the force of the explosions. Nothing remained.

Rapier loosed two missiles at one of the T/As targeting Zoom. The suddenly alert pilot pulled up seconds before the missiles impacted. Rapier was already concentrating on the second T/A.

"I'm covering your six." Rapier said happily to Zoom, as he fired his lasers hitting a T/A that was trying to target Zoom.

"Roger that. I'm on these bombers."

Zoom set his ELS for maximum speed, and headed towards the nearest bomber. He locked a missile onto it and fired. The missile blew the weak TIE into small pieces as it impacted on its warhead bay. The A-Wing shot passed the two remaining TIE Bombers, turning rapidly to come onto their six. The blue streaks of torpedoes headed towards the Regis. Zoom fired a missile into the exhaust of the rearmost T/B. Explosion. Switched to lasers. Another blue streak. Zoom fired three double shots at the last T/B. The TIE ripped into two, the pilot ejected just as the main cockpit exploded.

Rapier fired again at the T/A that was trying to follow Zoom. The laser blasts splashed against its shields. The pilot broke, expecting the A-Wing to follow. Rapier turned to the other T/A who had just shot down the missiles that had been homing on it. He fired several laser blasts at it forcing the pilot to break. He pushed down hard on his stick. Narrowly avoiding a hail of emerald laser fire passing along his previous course. He turned rapidly, cutting his speed. Armed his missiles. The surprised TIE came into his sights. He pulled on his trigger. A missile jumped from its rack, ramming dumbly into the T/A's already weakened shields. Shearing the back of the fighter off. The T/A spun out of control, then exploded.

Kyp and Wire sprinted out of the lift as it finally came to a halt in the hangar. They saw Pappy and headed towards him. The hangar bustled with excitement as the techs ran about to get every fighter operational.

Pappy saw the two pilots running towards him. "Those X-Wings are the only ones available." He shouted, pointing at two nearby fighters.

The two pilots changed direction as quickly as they could, almost ramming into an enthusiastic tech. Abruptly the entire ship shuddered as proton torpedoes impacted against the Regis's shields. Kyp jumped into the nearest fighter, pressing the canopy button as he shoved on a helmet the fighters tech handed him.

Kyp looked across to see Wire was in his X-Wing. He started the emergency start procedure on his X-Wing. The craft responded sluggishly as he lifted it off the deck and asked for launch permission. He fired up his manoeuvring jets and started accelerating towards the hangar entrance. Wire followed a few seconds behind. The second he was out of the hangar Kyp fired up his main engines and headed towards the Imperials at full throttle.

Zoom fired another missile it rammed into the fifth T/B which went the way of his former victims. But they managed to fire a torpedo or two at the Regis each time. Lasers again. The pilot ignored the laser fire on his weak hull. He let off another torpedo before his TIE exploded from the stress of the pummelling.

Rapier fired at the T/A again. Hitting it again. Again the pilot broke. This time Rapier was ready for it. He fired. The T/As shields disintegrated and the lasers ate greedily into its hull. The engines shorted out. The pilot ejected. The last of Rapiers lasers hit the T/A, it exploded. Rapier accelerated towards the Imperial Frigate, arming his missiles, as it launched a new wave of T/As.

Flash. Small pieces of TIE impacted onto Zooms shields as the fanatical pilots died in their straight line runs. Lasers. The twelfth TIE exploded a few seconds later.

"I think that is the last of the Bombers." Zoom said into the comm system. "Lets see if we can't bag this frigate."

Rapier pulled back on his control stick. Abruptly changing to a sideways movement. The tracking laser fire swept upwards. Rapier aimed. Lasers ran hungrily towards the shaken TIE Advanced. They cleaved at the shields, buckling. The T/A swerved. A mass of orange fire swept into its path. The pilot ploughed into it. The craft disintegrated.

"Yeah haw!" Wire shouted jubilantly.

"Two more to go. Lets not get excited, yet." Kyp said dryly.

"We'll concentrate fire on that A-Wing."

"Revenge!" Screamed the second pilot.

The two flights closed rapidly. They started to spit streams of fire at each other, one emerald, one orange. The two sets of craft met and started turning like a nest of snakes. Another small, sleek craft shot into the melee firing orange death from each side.

The lights on the bridge glowed brightly. The crew bustled purposely, quickly. They all glanced at the tactical display seeing the blue streaks of torpedoes. Bracing for impact. The whole ship shuddered and jumped at every hit, reeling in pain. Crash. A mug fell to the floor. Lights dimmed. Another impact.

"Shields at 62%, sir." A young officer called from the weapons pit.

"That Frigate is moving to intercept us!" an Ensign called.

The lights dimmed again.

"61%"

"Divert more power to shields. Order all laser batteries to open fire on the Frigate as soon as it is in range." Captain Daly ordered, calmly, from his seat. "Ask Red Squadron to assist if possible."

A chorus of "Yessirs" greeted his orders.

The two imposing Nebulon-B class Frigates closed slowly on each other. Eyeing each other. Suddenly they started to spin laser fire in a glaring web of destruction. Splashes of light illuminated both of the ships hulls as waves of energy expended themselves against shielding.

Zoom looked up from the dogfight as Rapier blasted TIE Advanced that was pursuing him. He saw a wall of lasers flying between the duelling forms of the Regis and the Imperial frigate.

"Kyp, Wire. Engage that frigate. We will cover you." Zoom ordered. "We must ensure the survival of the Regis."

Kyp and Wire accelerated towards the Frigate arming their torpedoes, waiting for the lock tone, then firing every warhead at the frigate. The two X-Wings dove at the Imperial frigate, firing. Slashing up and down its hull as they dodged the sporadic fire it launched in their direction.

Zoom dodged sideways narrowly avoiding a stream of lasers. He turned quickly trying to get onto the tail of his opponent.

The T/A quickly turned out-manoeuvring the A-Wing. The pilot was just about to turn onto the tail of his quarry when his shields started to drop rapidly. The pilot broke. Another hail hit his craft. Panels sparked, failed, never to work again. The pilot turned desperately. Another hit. The eject alarm sounded. He scrambled about. Fumbling for the lever. He pulled.

The T/A exploded as another of Zooms lasers hit home.

"Looks like the Frigate is launching another flight."

"Our shields are starting to fail." Lt McCall reported. "We must destroy that frigate."

Wire lined up for another attack run. His shields were nearly full. He knew he must do as much damage as possible to the frigate. He charged straight at the frigates hull his lasers firing at the ship, burning a hole into it.

Suddenly a wave of emerald fire started to impact on Wires shields. They dropped rapidly. He desperately tried to avoid the three TIEs that were pounding him. He reached for his eject lever.

"Noooo." He screamed as he pulled. His fighter exploded near him. Darkness engulfed him.

Rapier and Zoom charged into the formation of T/As lasers firing. One of the TIEs exploded as a flurry of lasers hit him. Zoom changed course and started to fire on the frigate as Rapier took on the remaining T/As.

The Imperial frigate was in bad shape. Every time one of the lasers from the Regis hit it a great gush of flame lit up the scene as the frigates atmosphere ignited. Electrical fires burned in every new hole created by the searching turbolasers. Suddenly secondary explosions started to rip through the Imperial frigate as a laser found a critical component. Parts of the hull started to peel away. The frigate started to roll as manoeuvring thrusters fired randomly. The reactor went critical, incinerating the entire ship. Only a few bits of floating hull plating remained.

Rapier's computer suddenly brought up the first good news that he had seen on this patrol so far. He saw the massive organic shape of the CRS Liberty decelerating from hyperspace. As soon as it came to a halt four X-Wings launched.

"Rogue Leader to Red Squadron, permission to join the party."

"This is Red Leader, you may as well, but its almost over." Zoom grinned, he switched channels to the Regis. "Could you send a S&R shuttle to look for Wire?"

[Next Day...]

Wire woke. His head was having a hammer slammed against it. He groaned, and slowly tried to open his eyes. Pain seared through his brain. Feeling started to return to his body, a thrumming ache dominated it. He tried to open his eyes again this time the light did not ravage them as much. He tried to focus on the blurry form in front of him. The form came into focus, it was Kyp.

"How are you feeling?" Kyp asked his friend and wingman gently.

"Like I've just been trampled on by a heard of banthas!" He replied groggily. "How long before I can fly?"

"The med droid says you can get out of here anytime you want, but that you should not fly for a couple of days." Kyp answered kindly. "You should be OK for the attack though, so don't worry."

Wire put his head back down and slept for several hours.

Rapier walked into the brightly lit main briefing room on the Regis. He saw most of the squadron sitting in the ordered rows of chairs, he noticed two pilots from Rogue Squadron sitting at the back. He walked to the front row and sat next to Mario 'Phoenix' Rodgers. Phoenix turned to talk to him.

"Hi Rapier," He said. "What do you think this briefing is about?"

"I should imagine it is about the attack on the Wisp." Rapier replied, motioning the Rogue Squadron pilots. "I think that this would be the only reason they would be here."

"With Rogue around I'd say we have no..."

"'te-hun." Someone shouted as Zoom, Kyp and Captain Daly walked into the room. All of the pilots jumped to their feet and saluted, almost in unison."

"At ease," Zoom waited while the pilots sat down. "We have been flying practice missions with Rogue Squadron recently in preparation for our attack on the ISD Wisp, which still has a sizeable fighter complement onboard. We will conduct this operation in two parts. In the first we will remove most of the Wisp's primary fighter defences. In the second which should follow within an hour of the first we will take out the Wisp, removing it as a threat both to Red Squadron and the Alliance. I will now hand over the briefing to Captain Daly who has been placed in overall command of the operation to destroy the Wisp."

Zoom sat down at the front of the briefing room, as Captain Daly stood and prepared to speak to the gathered pilots.

"As many of you are aware an Imperial Star Destroyer is a very difficult ship to destroy when it is fully operational. Its fire power can only really be matched by that of our Calamari Cruisers, but even then our cruisers will come out of the mission badly damaged, if at all. The other threat that Star Destroyers pose is their overwhelming number of fighters."

Daly paused, looking at all of the pilots, seeing the new faces as well as the familiar faces. He thought about how much he would miss them all if the mission went wrong, not that he would ever tell them that.

"Luckily for us though our recent operations have severely depleted the Wisp's fighter compliment, they also have a damaged hyperdrive. This makes them a much easier target as they cannot outrun us in subspace or in hyperspace. Our probes have intercepted a transmission that the Wisp will be receiving supplies from a convoy in a matter of hours. We cannot allow this to happen."

The pilots started to mutter to themselves about the task ahead of them. Kiki raised his hand. "Sir, does this mean we are going to have to attack the Wisp before the convoy arrives?"

"No, we have developed a plan that will let us destroy the convoy, and at the same time lure the Wisp's remaining fighter complement into a trap. Three Y-wings from Red Squadron will hyperspace into the area with an escort of two X-wings from Rogue Squadron. They will proceed to destroy the entire convoy. This attack will take place when the convoy exits hyperspace at its rendezvous point near the Wisp. The Wisp's captain is sure to want the convoy to arrive safely and should send a strong force to drive the attackers off. This is when we spring our trap." Daly paused again. "Three X-Wings will be waiting in a nearby area of space only a few seconds away. When the reinforcement's are approaching the convoy, the X-Wings will jump in behind them and proceed to destroy the surprised enemy."

Captain Daly sat down. Kyp got up and walked to the podium. "We must destroy all of the Imperial reinforcement fighters in this mission, the convoy must also be destroyed. The Y-Wing flight will be lead by Rapier, he will have Redjed and Phoenix on his wing."

Kyp paused as a series of groans died down frm the pilots. "The X-wing flight will be lead by Zoom, he will have Ranger and Carcajou on his wing. The assigned pilots will be ready for this mission in one hour. The rest of us have a short time for some R&R before we get to go in as well for the attack against the Wisp. Good luck. Dismissed."

Pilots filed out of the room by ones and twos as the briefing broke up. Among the last to leave were the Rogue Squadron pilots, Wolfman and Animal. Gabriel and his wingman had sat quietly through the briefing. Now they rose and made their way to the podium.

Zoom had been saying something to Kyp; he looked up as the Rogues approached, and extended his hand. "Glad to have you guys backing us up on this one."

"Hey, another day, another Star Destroyer." Wolfman grinned as he shook the offered hand. "You sure you don't want Rogue to take the lead on this one?"

Kyp shook his head. "They started this by coming after us and abducting Spectre. That makes it personal. Now we're going to finish it."

"Suit yourself," Animal said affably. "Stryker doesn't really have room for another Impstar on his fuselage anyway."

All the pilots chuckled, and even Daley smiled. "I need to be getting back up to the bridge. Gentlemen, a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, Captain."

On his way out the door, Daley narrowly avoided a collision with another orange-suited pilot. The man bounced off the doorway and came to rest, drawing himself up with a quick apology over his shoulder to the Regis's captain. He was out of breath. "Am I late?" he gasped.

Zoom recognized him immediately. "Brennan!"

Rainman tossed off a snappy salute. "Rogue 5 reporting for duty, SAH!"

"Look at you!" Zoom continued, admiring the unit patch on his former squadmate's shoulder. "Last I heard, you were still with Corsair."

"I've been working my way up the ladder." Brennan beamed. "A little time in Corsair, then a transfer to Bucc... and now, here I am." He struck a pose appropriate to a holodrama star.

Kyp commented drily to Wolfman, "You actually let him in, huh?"

"I understand there was a substantial bribe involved," Wolfman replied in the same tone.

Some good-natured shoving and roughhousing ensued, until interrupted by the arrival of Tony "Kid" Marco, Rogue 6. Left behind in his wingman's mad rush through the corridors of the frigate, Kid had followed at a more sedate pace. His R2 unit brought up the rear. There was a quick round of introductions, then Rainman got down to business.

"I'd like to have this duty, sirs. Me and Kid. It's been a while since I've flown with Red, but I have scores to settle here too. I've already talked to Stryker, and he says it's okay with him if it's okay with you."

"I have no problem with that," said Zoom, glancing at Kyp for his reaction, which was a nod. Wolfman and Animal looked at each other and shrugged. "All right. Wolfman, Animal, thank you for coming. You're welcome to stay onboard until it's time for the main attack, or return to the Liberty. Rainman, Kid, come with me. I'll brief you on the way back to the flight deck."

"Sure thing, Commander."

"You got it, Zoom."

The hangar was more crowded than usual by the addition of four X-wings with Rogue Squadron markings. The extra fighters had been parked in the only available space, in the approximate center of the deck. Their command ship could be seen outside the hangar, a grey needle floating among the stars. At this range the Mon Calamari cruiser looked like some strange fish from its builders' native ocean.

The deck crew were busy with another three X-wings on the other side of the hangar. They climbed over the sleek shapes, unhooking fuel hoses and lowering astromech droids into their sockets behind the open canopies. The whine of powerful engines revving up added to the din.

Through this scene of near-chaos strode the pilots of Red Squadron, side by side. They wore their flight helmets or carried them tucked under one arm. Like their craft, these deadly fighters were ready for combat. The Empire had taken something from each of them: friends, loved ones, homes, innocence. Today they would exact some measure of payment.

"Once the convoy's destroyed, don't hang around." Zoom was giving some last-minute instructions. "Get back here fast. If the attack is still a go, the Regis - and the Liberty - will jump out as soon as you land. A quick reload while we're in hyperspace, and then it's right back into the fight."

"No rest for the righteous, eh Zoom?" joked Ranger.

"Not in this war, I'm afraid."

Rapier shrugged. "I'll rest when the Emperor's dead. Or I am." He clasped Zoom's gloved hand briefly. "We'll set them up, you take 'em out. Just don't be late."

"Promise."

The group split into two, half starting across the hangar to their X-wings while the other three climbed up ladders and into the cockpits of the heavier fighters they'd be flying for this mission. While it was fashionable these days (especially with the B-wing entering service with the Alliance) to refer to the Y-wing as a "pig," the Koensayr strike fighter/bomber had proven its worth and versatility over many years. Besides, anyone who made that comparison negatively had obviously never been hit by an angry Gamorrean.

The deck crew retreated as the noise in the hangar rose another notch. The first to exit the hangar were the most recent arrivals; in a display clearly meant to impress their hosts, the Rogues rose in unison and slipped out through the magcon field in close formation. Rainman and Kid continued to fly straight while Wolfman and Animal peeled gracefully off to either side.

"Showoffs," Zoom muttered in good humor. He tuned his mike to the squadron frequency. "Red Flight A, you're next."

"Copy that." Rapier lifted off and nudged his ship forward, leading his wingmen out into open space. Zoom's flight of X-wings followed soon after. Once all were present and accounted for, Zoom gave the order to jump to lightspeed.

Kyp, standing on the Regis's bridge with Captain Daley, watched them go. As the fighters dwindled and vanished, the captain gave an order and a digital clock begin counting from 00:00.

"It's begun," Kyp murmured.

Lt. Commander Nievel found himself pacing. He knew he shouldn't display such obvious anxiety in front of the crew, but whenever his mind wandered, he started doing it again. It was just one more symptom of how far out of his depth he was.

A competent but not particularly ambitious officer, who preferred to go by the book whenever possible, Nievel had been comfortable in his position as the Wisp's chief communications officer. The bridge of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer was about as high as he had ever hoped to rise during his career in the Navy. The events of the last few weeks, however, had conspired to promote him beyond his talents. First the Captain had shot smart-mouthed Banno and given Nievel his former post as executive officer, along with an increase in grade. Then, with the Wisp dead in space, Captain Damerra had been forced to take a shuttle to answer the summons of Moff Gerom. In his absence, the Captain had left Nievel in command.

That was three days ago, and Nievel had begun each of them by throwing up in the fresher. It was not that his orders were complicated or demanding; he was to simply hold position and wait for the resupply and repair convoy that had been dispatched to get the Wisp back into fighting trim. What made his stomach churn and his feet walk away with him was being responsible, however temporarily, for an entire Imperial ship of the line and the tens of thousands of men and women who served aboard her. So far, he was surviving on stoic determination and antacids. His greatest fear was that the Captain would not return and he would be ordered to take command of the Wisp permanently.

He sometimes thought it might have been easier if command had fallen on him in battle: the senior officers dead, the main bridge destroyed, and him forced to rally the survivors. Then, swept up by the fear and urgency of combat, he would have had no time to think of anything but survival. But in reality he had plenty of time and nothing to do. Nothing but schedule more drills and exercises to keep the crew at peak efficiency, wait for the convoy, and pace restlessly up and down the bridge walkway.

"Sir, I have new contacts. Two corvettes and three, no, four freighters dropping out of hyperspace." The sensor operator looked up at him as he stopped above that station. "Distance, sixty kilometers. It's the convoy, sir."

Nievel let out his breath. "Good, right on time. Tell them to..."

"One moment..." The sensor man held up one hand and consulted his board. "Sorry, sir. It's just the convoy escorts arriving; a half-squadron of gunboats."

Nievel nodded tolerantly. "Very well. Tell them to come alongside and prepare to transfer their cargo." His replacement at communications, a former roommate, acknowledged the order and bent to his task.

A few minutes passed as the convoy began its approach. Nievel spent those minutes in silent contemplation. If he could just keep things running smoothly for a few more days, and if the hyperdrive replacement went off without a hitch, he would be able to present Captain Damerra with a fully operational Star Destroyer upon his return. That would certainly improve his mood, whatever the outcome of the meeting with Gerom...

Another call from the crew pit interrupted his musings. "Five more contacts, sir, coming out on the other side of the convoy. They're at the edge of our sensor range."

He raised an eyebrow. "More escorts?"

"No, sir." The voice became urgent. "Three Y-wings and a pair of X-wings. Looks like Rebels!"

Nievel's blood ran cold. He whirled to face down into the side of the crew pit where the Wisp's starfighter coordinator was. "Launch our interceptors, now!"

The man spoke quickly into his headset, then listened to the reply. "Delta Squadron is launching. They're at half strength, however. Do you want Alpha to launch as well?" The Wisp's original Alpha Squadron had been wiped out weeks ago, and was now made up of remnants from its other TIE fighter squadrons.

"Yes, yes. The supplies aboard that convoy are absolutely vital. If we can't defend it, we aren't going anywhere." Nievel swallowed hard. "Launch everything we have left. Helm, best sublight speed toward the engagement zone. Sound general quarters; all gunners to their stations."

"Aye, sir."

Zoom watched his console closely as his X-wing soared through the quasi-real tunnel of whirling light. When he'd entered hyperspace for this second, much shorter jump, the mission clock had read 43 seconds. Now half that time was gone.

The maneuver they were attempting required precise timing, coordination, some guesswork, and quite a bit of luck. For the first two, Zoom and his comrades had relied on their droids to plot a course that should drop them in behind the unsuspecting enemy. This was based, in turn, on certain assumptions about the Imperials' response and flight times. That was where organic intuition came in.

If this worked, they should achieve total surprise. If not, Red Squadron might find itself under the guns of the Wisp's TIE fighters rather than vice versa. Compared to that, flying blindly into the Star Destroyer itself was only a remote possibility.

The countdown provided by Zoom's R2 unit, Jo, reached ten seconds. He took a deep breath and centered himself, banishing from his mind thoughts of what he could not control and focusing on that which he could. One hand moved to the S-foil switch.

Four seconds. Two.

One.

Starlines blinded him, but his fighter was already spreading its wings. Four small lights at the top of his console came on as the lasers went active. Unseen power surged forth and stabilized, protecting him from harm. His eyes swept the endless night for his foe.

"Jo, acquire nearest enemy."

The droid complied with a short beep, and Zoom saw the plan had worked perfectly. Up ahead, still in formation, were six T/Is. The squints were heading away from them, intent on another set of targets. Also visible in that direction were two freighters and a corvette. The convoy was reported to be twice that size; evidently, the other Reds had used their three-minute head start well.

All of this he absorbed in an instant as he brought his fighter's nose to bear directly on the interceptor he'd targeted. To his mild surprise, the gunsight flickered green immediately. They had emerged only a kilometer or two away from the TIEs, just within range. Not that he had a chance of hitting at this distance... but Zoom fired anyway, hoping to get lucky again. His lasers vanished into the formation without effect.

Ranger's voice spoke over the radio. "I don't think we can hit them from here, Lead. Not with lasers. I'm going to try a torpedo shot."

Kelly looked down at his CMD. The range-to-target was not decreasing; in fact, as he watched, the last digit rose by one. The faster interceptors were outrunning them. "Not for long," he muttered, setting his shield charge rate to minimum - and then, after a moment, doing the same with his lasers. "Tally ho!" he cried as he began to pull ahead of Ranger and Carcajou. In some ways, becoming squadron leader hadn't changed him at all.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the convoy, the Y-wings were lining up for their second torpedo run while Rainman and Kid finished off the last of the gunboats. All of the Imperial pilots were aces (the Empire wouldn't send rookies to guard a high-priority convoy like this one) but the Rogues were better. Soon the final GUN blossomed into a brief fireball that threw off tiny metal fragments and one nearly-intact wing.

Rainman checked his sensors as he rebalanced his shields. "Okay, I have six squints coming in with the Reds on their tail. Time to play anvil to their hammer."

"Roger that," Kid acknowledged calmly as he formed up on Brennan's wing and prepared to engage the approaching interceptors.

Zoom checked the range again and decided to take another shot. It was another miss. He barely suppressed a curse that would have been picked up by his mike, instead punching his depleted lasers back up to full charge. This slowed him and allowed his wingmen to start catching up.

At about the same time, Rapier's group released a salvo of torpedoes at one of the remaining Imperial freighters, the Hulk 4. Rapier watched closely for an escape pod from the doomed ship, but there were none: the freighter crews were apparently loyal unto death. It came swiftly for them as the last pair of torpedoes struck amidships and broke the Hulk 4's back. The engines cut out and the two halves, fore and aft, began to drift slowly apart.

The Red Y-wings were already turning away towards their next target. This mission's timetable made no allowances for mercy.

Surprised and now outmatched, the rest of Delta Squadron fought fiercely. Three formed up to engage the X-wings while the other two went after the Y-wings. The interceptors easily caught up to the slower Rebel fighters. Phoenix, bringing up the end of the chain, was pelted by lasers until he had to veer off and firm up his rear shields. His respite was only momentary: as soon as he straightened out, he was hit again. Swiveling his head around, he could see that both squints were still with him. "Someone get these guys off me!"

"I'm on it, Red Thirteen." Kid swooped in, all but ignoring the TIE on his own tail, and blasted one of Phoenix's pursuers with a perfect one-two shot of dual lasers. But in the few seconds it took him to do that, the second interceptor fired again. There was a small explosion toward the rear of Phoenix's Y-wing.

"I'm hit! Controls are gone," said Phoenix, uselessly waggling his dead stick. "Punching out!" He tucked in and pulled the rings on his Koensayr ejection seat. The canopy blew up and away. Phoenix followed a half-second later, riding the flame of the seat's small rocket. His Y-wing exploded under the guns of the interceptor, just before it too was vaped by Kid.

"Red Leader, one of your pilots is EV. Want me to call in the Salvatore to make pickup?"

"Be much obliged, Rogue Six."

Kid clicked his mike and changed to a different frequency, one used for long-range communication. "Liberty, this is Rogue Six, come in..."

Carcajou was their first victim. Under the combined laser fire of six TIE fighters, his shields simply vanished. Only the electronic reflexes of his X-wing prevented Yves from sharing its fate. Before he knew what was going on, he had been flung clear of the explosion and was tumbling through open space as the battle continued to unfold around him.

Zoom yelped as lasers started chewing into his tail and broke hard to port, balancing his shields automatically. "Eyeballs, coming in!" All but two of the squints had been destroyed and he had been starting to relax a little; the narrow escape sent another jolt of adrenalin into his veins. "Jo, are you all right?" A stream of toots and whistles answered him. "Good. See if you can get that port engine back up to full power."

"Zoom, where's Yves?" Ranger turned to engage the new threat and managed to graze one of the T/Fs as the formation split into two-ship elements.

"I don't know... wait, there's his beacon, he's okay." Zoom continued to fly defensively, avoiding fire and rebuilding his power reserves, as he checked what his sensors were now telling him. He mentally scolded himself for his error. They couldn't afford rookie mistakes on this operation, especially not from the squadron commander. "Form on my wing. We'll take them together."

"You got it."

Rainman and Kid stayed close to the Y-wings, swatting any TIEs that went after them. Thus Rapier and Redjed only had to worry about the turbolasers of their current target, the corvette Mauler 2. They made their first run from dead astern, staying in the corvette's blind spot as they released their last two torpedoes each. Its shields fell and they switched to lasers to strafe. Rapier broke high, Redjed low, as their flight carried them past the Mauler 2. The gunners tried to track them but scored only a few hits.

As he came around for another pass, Mark "Redjed" Hagues acknowledged to himself what he was about to do. He had seen only a single escape pod launch after the shields went down. When he and Rapier destroyed the corvette, everyone still aboard would surely die. Many of them were not evil beings, but were just doing their jobs or believed the Emperor's lies. Ever since Mark was able to decide for himself, he had strove to follow the path of the now-vanished Jedi. But he was a pilot first and a student of the Force second. The mission objectives called for all of the convoy to be destroyed, especially this ship, which carried the new hyperdrive for the Wisp. So Redjed would kill today, knowing that to take life was wrong, but necessary to end this awful war.

Rapier walked bright orange bolts along the Mauler 2's unshielded hull, avoiding the answering fire that still came his way. Redjed followed in his wake, also firing, as the more experienced flyer gave him cover. Their shots punched through armor, holed compartments, then found a vulnerable spot - the corvette's dorsal radiator fin, which blew up with an impressive amount of fireworks. The two Y-wings banked right and left to avoid the sudden fireball, forming up again on the other side.

Looking back, Redjed saw the glow of the corvette's engines dim. Then one of them detonated, setting off its neighbors in a chain reaction that seemed to proceed in slow motion. Sparks danced over the ruins of the fin. Two more escape pods shot off from the corvette's sides in opposite directions. Redjed wished them well, then returned his attention to following his flight leader. The glow behind him grew brighter, flared briefly, and faded.

"Nooo!"

Nievel howled in impotent rage as he witnessed the destruction of the second Mauler corvette. Until then, he'd hoped that he might be able to salvage something from this engagement. But the loss of the hyperdrive was the hardest blow of all.

He stood trembling at the front of the walkway, absorbing the consequences of his failure. A Star Destroyer hyperdrive was a staggeringly expensive piece of equipment, costing more than he could hope to earn in his entire career. There would be questions. Navy justice, a board of inquiry comprised of flinty-eyed admirals with no sympathy for a hapless lieutenant commander. Charges of gross negligence, a dishonorable discharge, maybe worse. But no, he wouldn't live long enough to see a court-martial; the Captain would skin him alive when he returned...

... if, by then, there was a ship for Damerra to return to.

The thought hit Nievel like a splash of cold water, dragging him out of the pit of despair he had been falling into. The Rebels were supposed to be rabble, anarchists and criminals little better than the pirates who they occasionally enlisted for aid. But this attack had come with almost Imperial precision. They had a plan and, so far, it seemed to be working.

With dawning certainty he saw that the plan must end with the destruction of the Wisp. The convoy had been prevented from reaching and resupplying them. The last of their starfighter cover had been destroyed - a glance at the tactical display confirmed that, but the pain only focused Nievel's thoughts further. This left them under-strength, all but immobile in a strategic sense, and alone. A sitting target.

His vision cleared. Someone was telling him that the last of the freighters had been destroyed, and that a new Rebel craft, a Gamma-class assault transport, had appeared. He thought quickly. The Rebel force out there was still too small to take on an Imperial Star Destroyer... but there would be more of them soon. He was sure of it.

He turned. "All stop."

The helmsman looked up in surprise. "All stop, sir?"

"If they're laying a trap for us, I don't want to go charging into it." Again, his internal voice added needlingly. "All stop, I said. Hold this position."

"Aye, sir."

Nievel turned to another bridge officer, the one in charge of engineering. "Have your people get to work on the hyperdrive. Double shifts. We may have to make an emergency jump from here, and I want the drive in the best condition they can manage. Cannibalize the backup systems if you must, just get it done. Navigator, I want an escape course plotted and laid in, ready to go on my order." He stalked to the other end of the walkway and looked down. "Status of our reinforcements?"

"Two Nebulon-B frigates en route to us, the Venom and the Vendetta. They should arrive sometime within the hour."

He shook his head, looking pained. "No, no... that's not enough." His head snapped up. His career, even his life might be over, but he'd be damned if he'd let the Rebels destroy this ship. "Get me Sector Command. Right now."

"... yes, sir."

Zoom and Ranger, and the Rogues, slowly circled the engagement zone as the Salvatore headed toward Carcajou's signal. Kelly had already made a slow flyby of the downed Red pilot while the ATR was retrieving Phoenix and gotten a wave from Yves in reply, indicating that he was all right. Rapier and Redjed, true to their orders, had hypered out as soon as the convoy was finished and were now on their way back to the Regis.

Ranger kept checking the distance to the Wisp, but the wedge-shaped cruiser was no longer approaching. It hung menacingly in the distance, watching their rescue operation like a wounded but still dangerous predator that could pounce at any moment.

"You know," Rainman piped up over a shared frequency, "I've still got a full load of torps. Maybe I should head over and see if they've had their shield generators refitted yet."

"Betcha they have," offered Kid.

"Oh yeah, how much?"

"Hmm... a hundred?"

"Try two hundred and you've got yourself a bet."

"Guys, please, could we cut the chatter?" Zoom was keeping one eye on the progress of the Salvatore as the pilot, Rafael "Hyl" Guerra, brought it to a halt only a dozen meters from Carcajou. He wasn't sure how much of the Rogue attitude was bravado and how much was fact, but Rainman certainly sounded ready to go take on an ISD all by himself.

"Sorry, Zoom."

Carcajou began to float "up" toward the belly of the transport as Hyl engaged the Salvatore's tractor beam. At that moment, everyone's R2 units began hooting insistently. Dropping out of hyperspace on either side of the combat area, bracketing the Rebels at a distance of a few kilometers, were twin Imperial frigates. For a stretched second, everyone just stared at each other in surprise.

Then both frigates started launching brights, and things got loud and busy again, very fast.

"I've got two brights trying to light me up," complained Ranger, throwing his X-wing through a series of twists and turns in an effort to shake the pursuing advanced TIEs. One of them abruptly exploded as it was hit by a torpedo. "Make that one bright." The second was hit by laser fire and veered away to recharge its shields. "No brights. Thanks, Rogue Five."

"My pleasure," Rainman replied, using all of his skill to stay with the T/A he had driven from Ranger's tail. "Can't let anyone vape my best student."

"Before this op is over, I want a rematch in the sims."

"Still a glutton for punishment, I see." Rainman's persistence paid off as the TIE's rear shields failed and his next shot turned it into a shower of glittering particles against his own protective bubble. "You're on. Provided we both survive."

If there was one craft in the Imperial arsenal that Zoom coveted, it was the TIE Advanced. With the speed of an A-wing and the hitting power of an X-wing, the T/A proved that even the Empire could do something right if they threw enough money at the problem. But the same qualities that earned it his admiration made it a deadly foe in the hands of a skilled pilot - like the ones they faced now.

Zoom's outer shields were gone and his regular ones were reading a dangerous amber until he dumped his remaining laser power to them. He couldn't keep doing that for long, especially since he'd been forced to charge his lasers more slowly to keep up with the fast and maneuverable brights. Soon he'd run out of power and luck, and that would be the end.

He threw a quick glance at the Salvatore and was relieved to see that it was on the move again, heading away from the battle. A lone T/A swooped past and traded a few shots with whoever was manning the topside turret. For the most part, however, the brights seemed to be ignoring the ATR and concentrating on the X-wings. Zoom couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

"Hyl, how much longer?"

"Another minute to get clear and finish the calculations for hyperspace," the Liberty's search and rescue pilot replied, his voice crackling in Zoom's headphones. "Just hold them off until then."

"Sure," Zoom answered with more confidence than he felt. "No problem." He banked hard left to drop in on the tail of the TIE that had just darted in front of his nose and set about fulfilling that promise.

The combined efforts of the four X-wing pilots soon reduced the number of their foes to only two. Rainman and Kid jousted with the remaining T/As, keeping them distracted and low on shields, while the Salvatore and the Reds escaped. Once their friends were clear, the Rogues quickly dispatched the last TIEs, destroying one and sending the other limping back to base on one engine. Before the frigates could launch more fighters, they were gone.

[The bridge of the ISD Iron Fist]

Admiral Zsinj tsked gently at the hologram that floated before him. Add to the list of Damerra's follies, he thought, the decision to leave his ship in the hands of a loyal but woefully inexperienced young officer. Though he would never say so in public, Zsinj felt that many of the Academy's recent graduates were so mush-minded as to be incapable of anything but following orders. Fortunately for all, he was in a position to give those orders.

"It sounds as if you're in quite a predicament, Lieutenant Commander," the admiral concluded, stroking one of his drooping mustachios. "And you're certain that the Rebels will attack again?"

"Yes, sir." Nievel's image swallowed. "That is, it fits what we've seen so far..."

"I agree. And we cannot allow them to succeed." Zsinj had been leaning back in his command chair; now he rose to his feet, an impressive maneuver considering his bulk. "Therefore, we must meet them with enough force to utterly crush whatever they might send against you. It happens that my task force is within a half hour's travel of your position. We shall be there shortly to help you out."

Even in miniature, the relief on Nievel's face was obvious. "Thank you, Admiral. I'm in your debt."

"Yes," Zsinj purred, "you are." He let the younger officer consider that for a moment, then smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "But think nothing of it, not now. Like yourself, I am only doing my duty as a loyal servant of the Emperor."

Nievel nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir! For the glory of the Empire!"

"For the glory of the Empire," Zsinj parroted blandly. "Iron Fist out." His smile vanished with the hologram.

Mush-minds, all of them.

No sooner had the Salvatore touched down than the hangar's PA speakers began to blare a warning to prepare for imminent jump. Outside the glowing rectangle that indicated the magcon field in operation, the starfield twisted and blurred into random streaks.

Phoenix and Carcajou stepped out of the assault transport's airlock and onto the deck. They were wrapped in silvery heat blankets after their brief exposure to the cold of space. Underneath, they still wore their flight suits. Hyl was right behind them.

"I'm telling you," Phoenix was complaining to Hyl, "I feel fine. Good to fly. Loan me a snubfighter or send me back over to the Regis when we arrive."

Hyl shook his head regretfully. "You know I can't do that. You've been EV; that means you both get an hour's dunk in the bacta tank, on the house. Wouldn't want to catch a cold, or frostbite, would you?"

"But I feel fine!" Phoenix repeated desperately. He looked over his shoulder at the view of hyperspace. "Come on, you can't ground me now..."

"I can and I will," Hyl said, pointing to his shoulder. "See these? My two pips beats your one." As Phoenix slumped in defeat, Hyl softened his tone again. "Don't worry, there'll be other battles."

There was no time for a real briefing, so Zoom and the other four pilots that had been selected for the final assault - Ranger, Yale, Dragon and Kiki - formed a quick huddle in front of the Y-wings.

"Okay. In a few minutes the Regis will drop out of hyperspace, close to the coordinates we just left but far enough that we shouldn't be in immediate danger. The Liberty should already be engaging those two frigates when we arrive. The plan is, Rogue Squadron will cover our backs while we go straight up the middle. Don't slow down and don't look back, or those TIEs will be all over you like ugly on a Hutt."

"Do we go after the shield generators first?" asked Yale.

Zoom nodded. "If we're lucky, the Wisp hasn't had that flaw corrected. So if you get a shot at the topside domes, take it, but don't be too surprised if the shields don't go down. Other good targets are the warhead launcher at the nose and any topside turrets."

"After your torpedoes are gone..." Zoom paused and shrugged. "Up to you. It'll be a big help if someone can disable the Wisp once her shields are down. Other than that, use your best judgment and try to stay alive. If you come under heavy fire, withdraw immediately."

Dragon wanted to know, "What if more Imperials show up?"

"Pop any torpedoes you have left into the Wisp; dumb-fire them if you have to. Then scatter. We'll meet at the rendezvous point near Talchuk."

"Any other questions? Okay. Kyp's still up on the bridge, so I'll say this for him: may the Force be with us all. Now, let's get out there and bag ourselves a Star Destroyer!"

Someone thrust a hand into the center of the huddle. Four others joined it.

"GO RED!"

The X-wings of Rogue Squadron arrived first, taking up a screening formation; moments later the Liberty followed, her grey bulk emerging from hyperspace like a surfacing whale. The Rogues moved to engage the advanced TIEs which had taken up a circling patrol of the area. Lasers flew between the two starfighter formations as they raced together then broke apart and coalesced again into the confused tangle of a general melee.

A minute went by without any kills on either side. The elite Rebel and Imperial squadrons seemed well-matched. X-wings and T/As danced in and out of each other's gunsights. A frustrated TIE pilot from Theta Squadron, hoping to break the stalemate, got too fixated on his opponent and instead became the first casualty: he sideswiped a comrade and spun out of control, shields depleted, an irresistible target. Orange lasers converged on his tumbling fighter and vaped it.

The Rogues' mission was not to kill all of these TIEs, however. They merely had to tie up the defending starfighters. Meanwhile, the Liberty cruised almost serenely past one of the Imperial frigates, the Venom, on a course to flank the Wisp. Turbolaser fire flashed back and forth in broadsides, but here one party was clearly outgunned.

On the bridge of the Liberty, Admiral Ra'kaat gripped the arms of his command chair tightly as his ship rode through the storm. His attention was not on the frigate now passing to starboard but on the Star Destroyer almost dead ahead. In the background, at the other consoles, his officers went about their tasks. Waves of red and green washed across the bridge with each salvo, momentarily tinting the soft white lighting.

A glance downward revealed that the Liberty's shields were at 88% and dropping another point every six seconds or so. Ra'kaat nodded to himself; that was acceptable. The real test of his ship would come when they entered range of the ISD's guns. By then, however, the captain of the Wisp should have other things to occupy his mind.

Zoom was first out of the gate, checking his sensors and calling out orders to his squadmates. "Our target is eight kilometers out and directly to port. Loosen up formation... and turn." Having spread out to a safe distance from each other, the fighters made a sharp left turn and formed up again on their new heading, two abreast. "Watch for fire from the Vendetta," Zoom added, noting that they would pass uncomfortably close to the other frigate.

As they flew on, the Red pilots had an excellent view of the battle raging around the Liberty. Few of them had ever seen a Mon Calamari cruiser fight. None would forget the sight of it pouring volley after volley of fire into the Venom's shields. The Imperial starship, twin to their own Regis, looked like a toy next to it. A dozen smaller motes swirled around the ships like flies on a bantha. Needles of light darted between them, and suddenly there was a little bright puff as someone ran out of luck.

The Vendetta opened fire and there was no more time for sightseeing. Lines of emerald light reached out for the Y-wings. The first shots were wide, seeming to curl past their canopies. Then the frigate's gunners adjusted their aim and everyone took a few hits. Ranger held onto his stick as the fighter bucked, transferring power from the lasers and ion cannons to the shields to compensate. The other pilots did similarly. Finally the hail of flak lessened and stopped as the Vendetta fell away to stern.

Zoom touched a button on his console and his targeting scope swung out and locked into place. A graphic of the Star Destroyer appeared with one of the domes on top of the command tower highlighted. "This is Red Leader. I've got the shield generators. Everyone else, targets at your discretion."

"I copy, Lead," Ranger replied as he laid his own crosshairs over the Wisp's bow. "Yale, recommend we try to take out some of their guns while we're at it."

"Sounds good to me, Eighteen. Target is marked and... locked in."

Reticles which had been blinking amber went solid red as computers reported solid locks on the ISD. Torpedoes shot from the throats of their launchers - first two, then four, then ten, twenty. Zoom aimed four at each generator dome before targeting the rest on the blocky tower itself. By the time he was done, no less than forty torpedoes hurtled toward the mighty warship like a flock of deadly birds on the wing.

Nievel was frozen to the spot as he stared at the incoming torpedoes. So many, he thought. So many... Someone was asking him a question, but he couldn't really hear it. All he could do was look at the cloud of bright blue stars as it got bigger and bigger.

He knew he was seeing his death.

Point-defense fire lashed out as the warheads roared in, but it was late and uncoordinated. Nievel was still staring helplessly when the first torpedoes struck the forward shields and blossomed into fireballs. A slight tremor ran through the deck.

At the last moment, it seemed, the torpedoes broke high and low. A few streaked overhead while most dipped and crashed into the broad wedge of the Star Destroyer's main hull. Towers of flame rose from their impact points. The vibration was almost constant now, punctuated by a jolt that almost toppled the lieutenant commander off the walkway into the crew pit. Just as he regained his footing, a second shock drove him to his hands and knees.

"What... what was that?" gasped Nievel as he rose. Being knocked off his feet had broken the spell.

"Port shield generator destroyed," a bridge officer several years his senior reported.. "Shields are down all along the port side, and the other generator is overloading. We could lose it at any moment."

"Damage report?"

At a gesture, a hologram of the Wisp appeared in the air next to the command station. Damaged sections were marked in red, as if the ship was bleeding. The effect was rather unsettling to Nievel. "Minor damage to our hull. A few turbolasers have been knocked out, here, here and here. Fire in one of the forward holds."

A panel suddenly shorted out, spraying hot sparks into the face of its operator. As other crewmen moved to the aid of the injured man, the older officer looked down at the console that had blown and shook his head. "There went the starboard generator, sir. Shields are down."

Nievel lifted his uniform cap to wipe at his brow. "What about the Rebels, the ones attacking us?"

"Still coming, sir," answered a voice from the far end of the crew pit. "In range in twenty seconds."

"Orders, sir?" The veteran's posture was stiffly military, his eyes betraying his feelings about the young lieutenant who'd been promoted over him.

Nievel took another look at the damage display and turned away, shoulders quaking. "Get us out of here," he rasped.

"Retreat? Sir?"

Nievel whirled on the man. "Yes, retreat! You said it yourself, we have no shields. We are defenseless. Captain Damerra left this ship in my hands and I will return it to him in one piece." He turned back to the chief pilot. "Helm, bring us about and head for our jump point."

"Aye, sir."

The stars began to parade past the forward row of viewports. Nievel felt a chill as he realized belatedly that he should have ordered the blast shield raised during the attack. It was pure luck that none of the torpedoes had hit the bridge.

His gaze fell on something else he'd nearly forgotten to deal with. "I want those Y-wings destroyed. All batteries, fire!"

The Star Destroyer had just started a ponderous turn, presenting her less-damaged starboard profile, when every turret on that side opened fire at once. To the Reds they looked like the starlines of hyperspace entry... or, closer to the truth, a laser-flechette mine going off in their faces.

"Shields double-front," Zoom shouted as a near miss clipped his shields and buffeted his craft. "Use your ion cannons and stay low. We're going in!"

The five Y-wings dove into the hailstorm of turbolasers, ducking and weaving as they returned fire. Flying less than a dozen meters above the upward slope, they sent bolt after bolt of artificial lightning into the ISD's hull. St. Elmo's fire crackled across the surface in their wake. At the base of the command tower they broke formation to avoid the rising steps of the Wisp's superstructure. By that point the Star Destroyer was drifting on inertia alone as entire decks flickered on and off.

Only a few guns met them on their second pass, and soon even those fell silent as more ion bolts finished the job of disrupting the Star Destroyer's power distribution network. The Wisp was dead in space.

Lit only by dim red emergency lights, the Wisp's bridge had become the belly of some alien beast. Monitors rolled crazily, were filled with static, or had simply gone dark. The omnipresent and nearly subliminal noises - the beeps of the controls, the hum of the air fans, the distant murmur of the sublight engines - were notable in their absence. Down in the crew pit, vague shapes clustered around the few stations that were not completely inert.

A human figure in Navy grey loomed out of the darkness at Nievel's side, holding something that glittered. "I've got Engineering on a commlink, sir, They say they're resetting the breaker panels and should have auxiliary power restored in a few minutes." Nievel resisted the urge to snap that they might not have that long, and simply nodded in reply.

"Sir!" The cry rose from the shadowy depths of the pit. A man with a headset looked up at him; the voice was familiar, but his face was difficult to make out. "Getting a transmission from the Rebels. Not enough signal getting through the ionization for visual. I think... they're asking for our surrender."

Nievel shook his head numbly. Everyone knew that the soldiers of the Empire never surrendered. Victory or death: that was the Imperial way. And yet...

"Put it on speakers."

Even in the bloody half-light, he could feel eyes turning to him. The communications officer - oh, what he'd give to trade places with his former roommate right now - gaped and asked for confirmation. "Sir?"

"Do it." A desperate idea had begun to form. "We have to stall for time," he explained. This seemed to satisfy the crew, who returned to their efforts to get the equipment operational again.

"On speakers, sir."

Nievel drew himself up and cleared his throat. "This is Lt. Commander Pim Nievel of the Imperial Star Destroyer Wisp. To whom am I speaking?"

The voice that came back was distorted, and not just from the ionization that clung to the ship's antennas. "Lt. Commander Rob Cashman of Red Squadron. Where's your captain?"

Nievel thought fast. "Captain Damerra is down in Engineering, overseeing repairs." That was totally unlike the real Damerra, but the Rebel wouldn't know that. "You can speak to me for now. And where is your commander?"

There was a scratchy sound that might have been a chuckle. "Oh, you'll see him any moment now." Just as the Rebel finished talking, a lone Y-wing rose into view and coasted to a stop, its nose pointed right at the bridge viewports, a mere hundred meters away. Nievel imagined he saw the pilot wave.

A new voice broke in. "Hi there. This is Commander St.Clair. I'm short on time, so I'll make this real simple. You can't win. You have no shields, no power, and your escorts can't help you. Surrender now, or we - meaning I, my friends, and that cruiser you may have noticed heading this way - will pound the Wisp to scrap. Tell Captain Damerra this is his one chance to save the lives of his crew."

Nievel somehow managed a humorless laugh. "And spend the rest of our lives as your prisoners? Not a very attractive deal, Commander."

"You're in no position to make a better one."

"Zoom, quit talking with this joker and finish it," Cashman prompted.

The bridge lighting suddenly brightened to its normal hue and control boards came to life. Meanwhile, the Rebel leader spoke again. "As you can see, Lt. Commander, some of my people think I shouldn't even be making this offer. You've hurt us, and made us mad, and we want revenge. But despite what you might have been told, we're not killers or terrorists. If there's another way to end this without a lot of your people dying, I'm all for it."

Nievel let the silence stretch as long as he dared. "Very well, Commander. I'll relay your terms to the captain."

"Tell him he has sixty seconds to reply."

"It may take that long just to make contact with him and explain the situation," Nievel said apologetically. "As you can see, you've done us quite a bit of damage. We have to use commlinks for internal communications..."

"All right," Zoom said, cutting him off. "Just make it fast."

"Of course, Commander. Wisp out." Nievel made a cutting gesture to end the transmission and let out the breath he'd been holding. "Engineering, what's our status?"

If they could just hold out a little longer...

"I tell you, Kelly, I don't like this." Kyp glanced at Captain Daly, who nodded in silent agreement. "We're losing our momentum, dancing to their tune. We need to finish this mission and get out of here before any more Imps show up."

"Even if they did surrender, we don't have enough people for a prize crew," Daly pointed out. "We'd have to scuttle her anyway."

In his cockpit, Zoom nodded. "I know, I know. Still... one more minute. The Liberty will be in range by then, and if they haven't given up, we start blasting."

"Roger that."

Zoom glanced out his side windows to see that the other Red Y-wings were still circling the disabled Star Destroyer. The Liberty was indeed moving up behind him and was starting a turn. It looked like the Admiral intended to cut across the Wisp's bow, a standard and effective maneuver known as "crossing the T."

Zoom flexed his fingers on the stick and, with his other hand, punched in one of his preset frequencies. "Rogue Leader, this is Red Leader."

"I copy, Red Leader."

"The Wisp is disabled. I've given the captain one minute to surrender or get to an escape pod. What's your status?"

"We've got them on the defensive," Stryker replied. "The Venom's shields are down and she's pulled her fighters in close to keep us from strafing her. We can handle the rest. Recommend we not stay here too much longer, though."

"Acknowledged."

Nievel was pacing again. "I need an update on our power situation, Chief."

"We have limited power restored to most of the ship, sir. But half our circuits are bypassed or cross-wired down here... and as soon as we try to shoot or maneuver, the Rebels will probably shut us down again."

"Understood. Bridge out." He thumbed the commlink off and pounded at his head with a fist. Think! There must be a way out of this. What would the Captain do? After a moment, he concluded that shooting someone wouldn't really help matters, especially since he himself was the most appropriate victim.

Surrender was out of the question. He'd be a Rebel prisoner or, if he somehow escaped, a traitor hunted by the Empire. Perhaps all that was left was an honorable death.

His time was running out, and Admiral Zsinj's force had not appeared to save them. Maybe he wasn't even coming. In despair, Nievel looked out the forward viewport at the enemy starfighter hovering there.

Then his eyes shifted slightly, to the empty space beyond.

"Navigator," he said slowly, "is your computer back up?"

"Yes, sir... why?"

"Plot us a jump along our current vector. From right here. No maneuvering." Desperate situation, desperate measures.

The navigator blinked at him, then at the viewport, and finally began to nod and enter data into his console.

Zoom checked his mission clock and keyed his mike again. "Time's up, Wisp. What's your answer?"

Any reply that might have been forthcoming went unsaid, for at that moment another giant grey-white dagger dropped out of hyperspace into their midst. The second Star Destroyer came in from aft of the Wisp, settling into a position a few kilometers back. It was still out of turbolaser range, but then a series of tones from Jo announced the launch of fighters.

"Sithspawn!" Zoom yelped, shoving his throttle up to full and cursing the Y-wing's slow acceleration.

"Confirmed, sir. It's Iron Fist!"

Nievel seized the opportunity. "Prepare to go to lightspeed. But first..." His finger stabbed out at the Y-wing. At least he would have the pleasure of destroying the leader of Red Squadron with a parting shot. "Kill him!"

Zoom was already banking away when at least three turbolaser lances converged on the spot he'd just left. Behind him, Jo squealed in electronic terror. He wrestled his heavy fighter/bomber into an evasive maneuver as more lasers sought him.

His initial stab of fear had turned to cold anger. Fine, be that way. He'd tried to be merciful, but that offer had been emphatically rejected. Zoom pulled the Y-wing's nose around in as tight a loop as he could manage until it was pointed at the command tower once more. He lined up on the bridge and held the trigger down. The big viewport darkened as the first linked laser blasts hit it, went completely opaque with the second. The third pair of shots, delivered at point-blank range just as Zoom pulled up to avoid hitting the tower, shattered it.

Pim Nievel, standing on the center walkway with nothing to grab onto even if he'd had time to react, was flung out into space along with a thousand transparisteel shards large and small. He screamed, more out of shock than real fear. Then everything got very quiet, and he realized - as his skin began to prickle and his vision to blur at the edges - that was because he no longer had any air to scream with.

"Red Group, pick your targets and go!" said Zoom as he flew down the back side of the Wisp and into the blind spot directly behind it. The big sublight drives were still shut down, so no engine wash battered at his shields, but he knew he couldn't stay here; there were TIEs coming in that would pick him off if he tried to sit and fire. Instead he turned to meet them, to give his comrades time to finish the job.

"You heard the man," Ranger said. "Yale, Kiki, go for the main reactor. Stay cool and do it like I taught you. Dragon, you're with me. Let's disable those guns again, then find something good to shoot."

"Aw, but it's more interesting when they shoot back," Dragon joked. Despite this, he joined Ranger in pumping more ion bolts into the Wisp, with extra attention to the turbolaser emplacements. Soon the fearsome Imperial warship was once more rendered inert and helpless.

While Ranger and Dragon pulled the Wisp's teeth, Yale and Kiki circled around beneath it and concentrated their fire on the dome just aft of the main hangar. The reactor's containment vessel was well-armored, but without the added protection of shields, their lasers soon began to chew through the white thermocoat and thick durasteel plating. With the ISD neither moving nor firing at them, the rookies had an easy target.

Yale came around for another pass, lining his crosshairs up on a jagged hole he'd already opened in the outer layer. His aim was true: on the very first shot, there was a momentary flash from the crack and then the entire dome blew out as the damaged reactor vented explosively to space. Kiki, having just finished his own run, was engulfed in the fringes of the cloud of plasma and shrapnel.

"Kiki!"

Yale dodged the fountain of fire and looked frantically for his fellow pilot. He located Kiki's Y-wing after a moment; it was following a slow curve to port and wobbling a bit as it flew, but appeared to be intact. "Stjepan, do you copy? Are you all right?"

"Yes... yes, I am fine. What happened?"

"Sorry about that. I blew the reactor and you got caught in the blast." Yale realized he was sweating as if he'd been the one to get a cooking. "What's your status?"

"I think my steering is damaged," the young pilot replied. "It keeps wanting to pull to the left. Other than that, no problems. Shields are low but coming back."

"Maybe you'd better get out of here."

Kiki laughed, his outworld accent coming through strongly. "And let you have this kill? Not a chance!"

He was turning to engage the last of the trio of squints when he saw yet another Imperial Star Destroyer pop out of hyperspace and slide to a stop nearby. That made a total of three, two of them fully armed and operational. Even with the Liberty on their side, the Rebels were now seriously outgunned.

"Red Leader to all ships. Another Star Destroyer has entered the area. Red Group, prepare to withdraw." He snapped off a shot at the interceptor as it flitted past him and scored a hit on one of its solar panels. Sparks and melted quadanium flew. It lurched and then turned to run. Zoom, still stinging from being fired on earlier, put a burst into its engines and watched it explode. His sense of triumph was immediately extinguished by Jo's report that Iron Fist had launched another flight. The newcomer was starting to launch TIEs as well. If he'd been an X-wing, Zoom might have considered taking on an entire squadron himself; but, for all its other strengths, the Y-wing simply was not a good dogfighter.

The next wave of interceptors was still a good distance away, so he ignored them for a moment and turned back toward the Wisp to survey the progress of the battle. The Regis was trading fire with the two Imperial frigates, but its shields were holding. The same could not be said for the Venom; one good torpedo volley could probably finish her, and Zoom expected the captain to withdraw shortly. Meanwhile, the Liberty had completed her turn and was making a slow pass across the Wisp's pointed bow, pouring turbolaser fire into the derelict. Escape pods were starting to scatter like seeds from the Star Destroyer's flanks; the Rebels let them go.

Zoom's sensors told him that the Wisp's hull integrity was dropping, but not fast enough for his taste. "Reds, we need an idea if we're going to finish this before we have to leave."

"Lead, Ranger here. I think I've got one." Ranger broke off his strafing run of the Wisp's underside and turned toward the main hangar. "There's something I've always wanted to try..."

"Do you need help?"

"No. In fact, if this works, you should all stand back."

"All right, Ranger, it's your call. Everyone else, form up and head for your exit vector. I'm on my way."

It was too dark to see, so Ranger flicked on his landing lights. Bright circles appeared on the far wall. The bay was in vacuum, so there were no visible beams. As he swung the Y-wing around, the lights passed over sealed doors, pipes and conduits, and a Lambda-class shuttle still parked on the deck. At last he found what he was looking for, a pair of big doors covered with warning symbols. That was where the heavy ordnance and reloads were stored: concussion missiles, torpedoes for the TIE bombers, and so forth. He didn't know how much was left, but it ought to make a pretty good bang. Maybe it would even flash back into the fuel stores.

He started firing. Five shots went into the doors before he hit something important on the other side. As a swelling fireball blasted across the inside of the hangar and reached for him, he kicked in his thrusters and got out of there fast. The Y-wing dropped away like a free-falling bomb just as the hangar was consumed by flame.

As Ranger had hoped, the explosion grew and spread, igniting the fuel intended for the Wisp's fighters and small craft. That cooked off with a blast that shook the entire vessel. Secondary explosions blossomed along its length. Structural members collapsed and the command tower began to topple, crunching down into the hull on top of the engines, doomed by its own artificial gravity. Ranger looked back once, then devoted all his attention to getting clear.

With a final explosion that began at the aft end and spread forward to engulf the entire vessel, the Imperial Star Destroyer Wisp was no more.

With great solemnity and careful strokes, Pappy finished painting the large red triangle on Ranger's fuselage beneath the rest of his kills. The assembled squadron burst into applause as the crusty Chief Mechanic stepped down from the short ladder and grinned at today's guest of honor.

"Nice work, kid."

"Hear hear," Zoom said as the noise subsided. "But remember, people, this was a team effort. Although Neill here gets credit for the kill, you all had a part in making it happen. Good job." He paused a moment to look around the Regis's hangar. Some of the pilots - his pilots, he thought proudly - were still in their flight suits, while others wore tan shipboard fatigues. It had been a long campaign, and some old faces from the beginning were missing, replaced by new ones. Spectre's loss was especially felt, though they'd heard his rehabilitation was going well and he might soon be flying again. For this moment at least, they were all united in fellowship and celebration. They had survived. They had triumphed.

Lt. McCall, the Regis's communications officer, appeared at Zoom's elbow. She smiled and held out a small plastic case. He murmured his thanks as he took it.

"Now, I have more good news. For our actions in recent weeks - protecting the starfighter prototypes, relieving the bacta crisis, and of course destroying the Wisp - Starfighter Command has awarded this unit a citation. All of you who participated in this campaign are hereby authorized to wear... the Wings of Freedom."

Zoom popped open the case and took out the medal inside, holding it up so that everyone could see. From a red and white ribbon dangled a Rebel insignia, red enamel with a gold rim and a gold X-wing superimposed on it. There was another round of collective applause. Again Zoom waited for quiet before continuing in a more solemn tone.

"Some of you may be wondering exactly what we accomplished today. After all, the Empire has a lot of Star Destroyers. The loss of one won't seriously impair their war machine or their plans of conquest. Our real victory is that we showed that, no matter what the Empire sends against us, we will not be destroyed. We will not submit. We will keep fighting - for our freedom, and for the freedom of this entire Galaxy. We fight so that others not yet born will have a chance to live free. Some of us may not live to see that day... but it will come."

Zoom thrust both fists in the air, the medal dancing and sparkling in the light.

"FREEDOM!"

The loudest cheer yet filled the hangar.

Moff Gerom didn't look up from his desk terminal as the door chimed. "Come in."

Captain Damerra's brisk stride slowed to a cautious walk as he entered the office and made his way across the ocean of carpet. The Moff's office was large and luxurious, as befitted the governor of an entire sector; windows ran the length of three of the room's four sides, offering a panoramic view of the city below. The desk was a smooth-sided slab of black, big enough to park a speeder on.

Moff Gerom was a similarly imposing figure, even sitting down in his high-backed chair. Broad of shoulder and shaven of head, he had been a General in the Imperial Army before retiring from military service. He had been granted this position as a reward for his part in establishing the New Order, and because of his proven leadership and organizational abilities.

"You sent for me, sir?"

"Yes. Please, have a seat." Gerom waved at one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"With respect, your Lordship, I'd rather stand. A shuttle is waiting for me downstairs. I was on my way to board it when I received your message."

"You intend to return to your command?"

Damerra nodded crisply. "Yes, sir."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Captain. You see, you no longer have a command to return to."

Damerra blinked. "What?"

"I've just been informed that the Wisp was destroyed by Rebel forces, specifically elements of Renegade Wing and Red Squadron." Gerom raised his eyebrows. "As I recall, it was supposed to be the other way around."

"D-destroyed?" Damerra was still reeling. "How?"

"I imagine you'll hear all the details at the board of inquiry. Oh, don't look so unhappy. You may even get to keep your rank and pension... though I doubt you'll be commanding a ship anytime soon." Gerom's smile was as cold as space. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

"But..."

"Dismissed, Captain." Gerom swivelled his chair around, presenting its blank back to the disgraced officer. Damerra opened his mouth, then realized saying anything more at this time would be useless. He left the office in miserable silence.

After the door had closed, Gerom turned back around and sighed. He tapped a few commands into his terminal and waited for a holocomm connection to be established. Presently the head and shoulders of a man in Imperial grey materialized in the space above his desk.

"Gerom here. I'm afraid I must report that Red Hammer is a failure. Yes, that's correct. Yes. No, Crimson Dagger has not been compromised. It will be more difficult now, but... Yes, I agree. Very well, I'll send you my full report within the week. Gerom out."

As the image faded out, the Moff leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. An unexpected setback... but as he'd said, the second part of the plan was still ready to go. More ships would be required, but if there was anything the Empire had in plenty, it was military might. And officers trained in the swift and brutal application of same.

Red Squadron would yet be destroyed. It was only a matter of time.