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 loc