Pilots filed out of the room by ones and twos as the briefing broke up. Among the last to leave were the Rogue Squadron pilots, Wolfman and Animal. Gabriel and his wingman had sat quietly through the briefing. Now they rose and made their way to the podium.

Zoom had been saying something to Kyp; he looked up as the Rogues approached, and extended his hand. "Glad to have you guys backing us up on this one."

"Hey, another day, another Star Destroyer." Wolfman grinned as he shook the offered hand. "You sure you don't want Rogue to take the lead on this one?"

Kyp shook his head. "They started this by coming after us and abducting Spectre. That makes it personal. Now we're going to finish it."

"Suit yourself," Animal said affably. "Stryker doesn't really have room for another Impstar on his fuselage anyway."

All the pilots chuckled, and even Daley smiled. "I need to be getting back up to the bridge. Gentlemen, a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, Captain."

On his way out the door, Daley narrowly avoided a collision with another orange-suited pilot. The man bounced off the doorway and came to rest, drawing himself up with a quick apology over his shoulder to the Regis's captain. He was out of breath. "Am I late?" he gasped.

Zoom recognized him immediately. "Brennan!"

Rainman tossed off a snappy salute. "Rogue 5 reporting for duty, SAH!"

"Look at you!" Zoom continued, admiring the unit patch on his former squadmate's shoulder. "Last I heard, you were still with Corsair."

"I've been working my way up the ladder." Brennan beamed. "A little time in Corsair, then a transfer to Bucc... and now, here I am." He struck a pose appropriate to a holodrama star.

Kyp commented drily to Wolfman, "You actually let him in, huh?"

"I understand there was a substantial bribe involved," Wolfman replied in the same tone.

Some good-natured shoving and roughhousing ensued, until interrupted by the arrival of Tony "Kid" Marco, Rogue 6. Left behind in his wingman's mad rush through the corridors of the frigate, Kid had followed at a more sedate pace. His R2 unit brought up the rear. There was a quick round of introductions, then Rainman got down to business.

"I'd like to have this duty, sirs. Me and Kid. It's been a while since I've flown with Red, but I have scores to settle here too. I've already talked to Stryker, and he says it's okay with him if it's okay with you."

"I have no problem with that," said Zoom, glancing at Kyp for his reaction, which was a nod. Wolfman and Animal looked at each other and shrugged. "All right. Wolfman, Animal, thank you for coming. You're welcome to stay onboard until it's time for the main attack, or return to the Liberty. Rainman, Kid, come with me. I'll brief you on the way back to the flight deck."

"Sure thing, Commander."

"You got it, Zoom."

The hangar was more crowded than usual by the addition of four X-wings with Rogue Squadron markings. The extra fighters had been parked in the only available space, in the approximate center of the deck. Their command ship could be seen outside the hangar, a grey needle floating among the stars. At this range the Mon Calamari cruiser looked like some strange fish from its builders' native ocean.

The deck crew were busy with another three X-wings on the other side of the hangar. They climbed over the sleek shapes, unhooking fuel hoses and lowering astromech droids into their sockets behind the open canopies. The whine of powerful engines revving up added to the din.

Through this scene of near-chaos strode the pilots of Red Squadron, side by side. They wore their flight helmets or carried them tucked under one arm. Like their craft, these deadly fighters were ready for combat. The Empire had taken something from each of them: friends, loved ones, homes, innocence. Today they would exact some measure of payment.

"Once the convoy's destroyed, don't hang around." Zoom was giving some last-minute instructions. "Get back here fast. If the attack is still a go, the Regis - and the Liberty - will jump out as soon as you land. A quick reload while we're in hyperspace, and then it's right back into the fight."

"No rest for the righteous, eh Zoom?" joked Ranger.

"Not in this war, I'm afraid."

Rapier shrugged. "I'll rest when the Emperor's dead. Or I am." He clasped Zoom's gloved hand briefly. "We'll set them up, you take 'em out. Just don't be late."

"Promise."

The group split into two, half starting across the hangar to their X-wings while the other three climbed up ladders and into the cockpits of the heavier fighters they'd be flying for this mission. While it was fashionable these days (especially with the B-wing entering service with the Alliance) to refer to the Y-wing as a "pig," the Koensayr strike fighter/bomber had proven its worth and versatility over many years. Besides, anyone who made that comparison negatively had obviously never been hit by an angry Gamorrean.

The deck crew retreated as the noise in the hangar rose another notch. The first to exit the hangar were the most recent arrivals; in a display clearly meant to impress their hosts, the Rogues rose in unison and slipped out through the magcon field in close formation. Rainman and Kid continued to fly straight while Wolfman and Animal peeled gracefully off to either side.

"Showoffs," Zoom muttered in good humor. He tuned his mike to the squadron frequency. "Red Flight A, you're next."

"Copy that." Rapier lifted off and nudged his ship forward, leading his wingmen out into open space. Zoom's flight of X-wings followed soon after. Once all were present and accounted for, Zoom gave the order to jump to lightspeed.

Kyp, standing on the Regis's bridge with Captain Daley, watched them go. As the fighters dwindled and vanished, the captain gave an order and a digital clock begin counting from 00:00.

"It's begun," Kyp murmured.

Lt. Commander Nievel found himself pacing. He knew he shouldn't display such obvious anxiety in front of the crew, but whenever his mind wandered, he started doing it again. It was just one more symptom of how far out of his depth he was.

A competent but not particularly ambitious officer, who preferred to go by the book whenever possible, Nievel had been comfortable in his position as the Wisp's chief communications officer. The bridge of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer was about as high as he had ever hoped to rise during his career in the Navy. The events of the last few weeks, however, had conspired to promote him beyond his talents. First the Captain had shot smart-mouthed Banno and given Nievel his former post as executive officer, along with an increase in grade. Then, with the Wisp dead in space, Captain Damerra had been forced to take a shuttle to answer the summons of Moff Gerom. In his absence, the Captain had left Nievel in command.

That was three days ago, and Nievel had begun each of them by throwing up in the fresher. It was not that his orders were complicated or demanding; he was to simply hold position and wait for the resupply and repair convoy that had been dispatched to get the Wisp back into fighting trim. What made his stomach churn and his feet walk away with him was being responsible, however temporarily, for an entire Imperial ship of the line and the tens of thousands of men and women who served aboard her. So far, he was surviving on stoic determination and antacids. His greatest fear was that the Captain would not return and he would be ordered to take command of the Wisp permanently.

He sometimes thought it might have been easier if command had fallen on him in battle: the senior officers dead, the main bridge destroyed, and him forced to rally the survivors. Then, swept up by the fear and urgency of combat, he would have had no time to think of anything but survival. But in reality he had plenty of time and nothing to do. Nothing but schedule more drills and exercises to keep the crew at peak efficiency, wait for the convoy, and pace restlessly up and down the bridge walkway.

"Sir, I have new contacts. Two corvettes and three, no, four freighters dropping out of hyperspace." The sensor operator looked up at him as he stopped above that station. "Distance, sixty kilometers. It's the convoy, sir."

Nievel let out his breath. "Good, right on time. Tell them to..."

"One moment..." The sensor man held up one hand and consulted his board. "Sorry, sir. It's just the convoy escorts arriving; a half-squadron of gunboats."

Nievel nodded tolerantly. "Very well. Tell them to come alongside and prepare to transfer their cargo." His replacement at communications, a former roommate, acknowledged the order and bent to his task.

A few minutes passed as the convoy began its approach. Nievel spent those minutes in silent contemplation. If he could just keep things running smoothly for a few more days, and if the hyperdrive replacement went off without a hitch, he would be able to present Captain Damerra with a fully operational Star Destroyer upon his return. That would certainly improve his mood, whatever the outcome of the meeting with Gerom...

Another call from the crew pit interrupted his musings. "Five more contacts, sir, coming out on the other side of the convoy. They're at the edge of our sensor range."

He raised an eyebrow. "More escorts?"

"No, sir." The voice became urgent. "Three Y-wings and a pair of X-wings. Looks like Rebels!"

Nievel's blood ran cold. He whirled to face down into the side of the crew pit where the Wisp's starfighter coordinator was. "Launch our interceptors, now!"

The man spoke quickly into his headset, then listened to the reply. "Delta Squadron is launching. They're at half strength, however. Do you want Alpha to launch as well?" The Wisp's original Alpha Squadron had been wiped out weeks ago, and was now made up of remnants from its other TIE fighter squadrons.

"Yes, yes. The supplies aboard that convoy are absolutely vital. If we can't defend it, we aren't going anywhere." Nievel swallowed hard. "Launch everything we have left. Helm, best sublight speed toward the engagement zone. Sound general quarters; all gunners to their stations."

"Aye, sir."

Zoom watched his console closely as his X-wing soared through the quasi-real tunnel of whirling light. When he'd entered hyperspace for this second, much shorter jump, the mission clock had read 43 seconds. Now half that time was gone.

The maneuver they were attempting required precise timing, coordination, some guesswork, and quite a bit of luck. For the first two, Zoom and his comrades had relied on their droids to plot a course that should drop them in behind the unsuspecting enemy. This was based, in turn, on certain assumptions about the Imperials' response and flight times. That was where organic intuition came in.

If this worked, they should achieve total surprise. If not, Red Squadron might find itself under the guns of the Wisp's TIE fighters rather than vice versa. Compared to that, flying blindly into the Star Destroyer itself was only a remote possibility.

The countdown provided by Zoom's R2 unit, Jo, reached ten seconds. He took a deep breath and centered himself, banishing from his mind thoughts of what he could not control and focusing on that which he could. One hand moved to the S-foil switch.

Four seconds. Two.

One.

Starlines blinded him, but his fighter was already spreading its wings. Four small lights at the top of his console came on as the lasers went active. Unseen power surged forth and stabilized, protecting him from harm. His eyes swept the endless night for his foe.

"Jo, acquire nearest enemy."

The droid complied with a short beep, and Zoom saw the plan had worked perfectly. Up ahead, still in formation, were six T/Is. The squints were heading away from them, intent on another set of targets. Also visible in that direction were two freighters and a corvette. The convoy was reported to be twice that size; evidently, the other Reds had used their three-minute head start well.

All of this he absorbed in an instant as he brought his fighter's nose to bear directly on the interceptor he'd targeted. To his mild surprise, the gunsight flickered green immediately. They had emerged only a kilometer or two away from the TIEs, just within range. Not that he had a chance of hitting at this distance... but Zoom fired anyway, hoping to get lucky again. His lasers vanished into the formation without effect.

Ranger's voice spoke over the radio. "I don't think we can hit them from here, Lead. Not with lasers. I'm going to try a torpedo shot."

Kelly looked down at his CMD. The range-to-target was not decreasing; in fact, as he watched, the last digit rose by one. The faster interceptors were outrunning them. "Not for long," he muttered, setting his shield charge rate to minimum - and then, after a moment, doing the same with his lasers. "Tally ho!" he cried as he began to pull ahead of Ranger and Carcajou. In some ways, becoming squadron leader hadn't changed him at all.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the convoy, the Y-wings were lining up for their second torpedo run while Rainman and Kid finished off the last of the gunboats. All of the Imperial pilots were aces (the Empire wouldn't send rookies to guard a high-priority convoy like this one) but the Rogues were better. Soon the final GUN blossomed into a brief fireball that threw off tiny metal fragments and one nearly-intact wing.

Rainman checked his sensors as he rebalanced his shields. "Okay, I have six squints coming in with the Reds on their tail. Time to play anvil to their hammer."

"Roger that," Kid acknowledged calmly as he formed up on Brennan's wing and prepared to engage the approaching interceptors.

Zoom checked the range again and decided to take another shot. It was another miss. He barely suppressed a curse that would have been picked up by his mike, instead punching his depleted lasers back up to full charge. This slowed him and allowed his wingmen to start catching up.

At about the same time, Rapier's group released a salvo of torpedoes at one of the remaining Imperial freighters, the Hulk 4. Rapier watched closely for an escape pod from the doomed ship, but there were none: the freighter crews were apparently loyal unto death. It came swiftly for them as the last pair of torpedoes struck amidships and broke the Hulk 4's back. The engines cut out and the two halves, fore and aft, began to drift slowly apart.

The Red Y-wings were already turning away towards their next target. This mission's timetable made no allowances for mercy.

Surprised and now outmatched, the rest of Delta Squadron fought fiercely. Three formed up to engage the X-wings while the other two went after the Y-wings. The interceptors easily caught up to the slower Rebel fighters. Phoenix, bringing up the end of the chain, was pelted by lasers until he had to veer off and firm up his rear shields. His respite was only momentary: as soon as he straightened out, he was hit again. Swiveling his head around, he could see that both squints were still with him. "Someone get these guys off me!"

"I'm on it, Red Thirteen." Kid swooped in, all but ignoring the TIE on his own tail, and blasted one of Phoenix's pursuers with a perfect one-two shot of dual lasers. But in the few seconds it took him to do that, the second interceptor fired again. There was a small explosion toward the rear of Phoenix's Y-wing.

"I'm hit! Controls are gone," said Phoenix, uselessly waggling his dead stick. "Punching out!" He tucked in and pulled the rings on his Koensayr ejection seat. The canopy blew up and away. Phoenix followed a half-second later, riding the flame of the seat's small rocket. His Y-wing exploded under the guns of the interceptor, just before it too was vaped by Kid.

"Red Leader, one of your pilots is EV. Want me to call in the Salvatore to make pickup?"

"Be much obliged, Rogue Six."

Kid clicked his mike and changed to a different frequency, one used for long-range communication. "Liberty, this is Rogue Six, come in..."

Carcajou was their first victim. Under the combined laser fire of six TIE fighters, his shields simply vanished. Only the electronic reflexes of his X-wing prevented Yves from sharing its fate. Before he knew what was going on, he had been flung clear of the explosion and was tumbling through open space as the battle continued to unfold around him.

Zoom yelped as lasers started chewing into his tail and broke hard to port, balancing his shields automatically. "Eyeballs, coming in!" All but two of the squints had been destroyed and he had been starting to relax a little; the narrow escape sent another jolt of adrenalin into his veins. "Jo, are you all right?" A stream of toots and whistles answered him. "Good. See if you can get that port engine back up to full power."

"Zoom, where's Yves?" Ranger turned to engage the new threat and managed to graze one of the T/Fs as the formation split into two-ship elements.

"I don't know... wait, there's his beacon, he's okay." Zoom continued to fly defensively, avoiding fire and rebuilding his power reserves, as he checked what his sensors were now telling him. He mentally scolded himself for his error. They couldn't afford rookie mistakes on this operation, especially not from the squadron commander. "Form on my wing. We'll take them together."

"You got it."

Rainman and Kid stayed close to the Y-wings, swatting any TIEs that went after them. Thus Rapier and Redjed only had to worry about the turbolasers of their current target, the corvette Mauler 2. They made their first run from dead astern, staying in the corvette's blind spot as they released their last two torpedoes each. Its shields fell and they switched to lasers to strafe. Rapier broke high, Redjed low, as their flight carried them past the Mauler 2. The gunners tried to track them but scored only a few hits.

As he came around for another pass, Mark "Redjed" Hagues acknowledged to himself what he was about to do. He had seen only a single escape pod launch after the shields went down. When he and Rapier destroyed the corvette, everyone still aboard would surely die. Many of them were not evil beings, but were just doing their jobs or believed the Emperor's lies. Ever since Mark was able to decide for himself, he had strove to follow the path of the now-vanished Jedi. But he was a pilot first and a student of the Force second. The mission objectives called for all of the convoy to be destroyed, especially this ship, which carried the new hyperdrive for the Wisp. So Redjed would kill today, knowing that to take life was wrong, but necessary to end this awful war.

Rapier walked bright orange bolts along the Mauler 2's unshielded hull, avoiding the answering fire that still came his way. Redjed followed in his wake, also firing, as the more experienced flyer gave him cover. Their shots punched through armor, holed compartments, then found a vulnerable spot - the corvette's dorsal radiator fin, which blew up with an impressive amount of fireworks. The two Y-wings banked right and left to avoid the sudden fireball, forming up again on the other side.

Looking back, Redjed saw the glow of the corvette's engines dim. Then one of them detonated, setting off its neighbors in a chain reaction that seemed to proceed in slow motion. Sparks danced over the ruins of the fin. Two more escape pods shot off from the corvette's sides in opposite directions. Redjed wished them well, then returned his attention to following his flight leader. The glow behind him grew brighter, flared briefly, and faded.

"Nooo!"

Nievel howled in impotent rage as he witnessed the destruction of the second Mauler corvette. Until then, he'd hoped that he might be able to salvage something from this engagement. But the loss of the hyperdrive was the hardest blow of all.

He stood trembling at the front of the walkway, absorbing the consequences of his failure. A Star Destroyer hyperdrive was a staggeringly expensive piece of equipment, costing more than he could hope to earn in his entire career. There would be questions. Navy justice, a board of inquiry comprised of flinty-eyed admirals with no sympathy for a hapless lieutenant commander. Charges of gross negligence, a dishonorable discharge, maybe worse. But no, he wouldn't live long enough to see a court-martial; the Captain would skin him alive when he returned...

... if, by then, there was a ship for Damerra to return to.

The thought hit Nievel like a splash of cold water, dragging him out of the pit of despair he had been falling into. The Rebels were supposed to be rabble, anarchists and criminals little better than the pirates who they occasionally enlisted for aid. But this attack had come with almost Imperial precision. They had a plan and, so far, it seemed to be working.

With dawning certainty he saw that the plan must end with the destruction of the Wisp. The convoy had been prevented from reaching and resupplying them. The last of their starfighter cover had been destroyed - a glance at the tactical display confirmed that, but the pain only focused Nievel's thoughts further. This left them under-strength, all but immobile in a strategic sense, and alone. A sitting target.

His vision cleared. Someone was telling him that the last of the freighters had been destroyed, and that a new Rebel craft, a Gamma-class assault transport, had appeared. He thought quickly. The Rebel force out there was still too small to take on an Imperial Star Destroyer... but there would be more of them soon. He was sure of it.

He turned. "All stop."

The helmsman looked up in surprise. "All stop, sir?"

"If they're laying a trap for us, I don't want to go charging into it." Again, his internal voice added needlingly. "All stop, I said. Hold this position."

"Aye, sir."

Nievel turned to another bridge officer, the one in charge of engineering. "Have your people get to work on the hyperdrive. Double shifts. We may have to make an emergency jump from here, and I want the drive in the best condition they can manage. Cannibalize the backup systems if you must, just get it done. Navigator, I want an escape course plotted and laid in, ready to go on my order." He stalked to the other end of the walkway and looked down. "Status of our reinforcements?"

"Two Nebulon-B frigates en route to us, the Venom and the Vendetta. They should arrive sometime within the hour."

He shook his head, looking pained. "No, no... that's not enough." His head snapped up. His career, even his life might be over, but he'd be damned if he'd let the Rebels destroy this ship. "Get me Sector Command. Right now."

"... yes, sir."

Zoom and Ranger, and the Rogues, slowly circled the engagement zone as the Salvatore headed toward Carcajou's signal. Kelly had already made a slow flyby of the downed Red pilot while the ATR was retrieving Phoenix and gotten a wave from Yves in reply, indicating that he was all right. Rapier and Redjed, true to their orders, had hypered out as soon as the convoy was finished and were now on their way back to the Regis.

Ranger kept checking the distance to the Wisp, but the wedge-shaped cruiser was no longer approaching. It hung menacingly in the distance, watching their rescue operation like a wounded but still dangerous predator that could pounce at any moment.

"You know," Rainman piped up over a shared frequency, "I've still got a full load of torps. Maybe I should head over and see if they've had their shield generators refitted yet."

"Betcha they have," offered Kid.

"Oh yeah, how much?"

"Hmm... a hundred?"

"Try two hundred and you've got yourself a bet."

"Guys, please, could we cut the chatter?" Zoom was keeping one eye on the progress of the Salvatore as the pilot, Rafael "Hyl" Guerra, brought it to a halt only a dozen meters from Carcajou. He wasn't sure how much of the Rogue attitude was bravado and how much was fact, but Rainman certainly sounded ready to go take on an ISD all by himself.

"Sorry, Zoom."

Carcajou began to float "up" toward the belly of the transport as Hyl engaged the Salvatore's tractor beam. At that moment, everyone's R2 units began hooting insistently. Dropping out of hyperspace on either side of the combat area, bracketing the Rebels at a distance of a few kilometers, were twin Imperial frigates. For a stretched second, everyone just stared at each other in surprise.

Then both frigates started launching brights, and things got loud and busy again, very fast.

"I've got two brights trying to light me up," complained Ranger, throwing his X-wing through a series of twists and turns in an effort to shake the pursuing advanced TIEs. One of them abruptly exploded as it was hit by a torpedo. "Make that one bright." The second was hit by laser fire and veered away to recharge its shields. "No brights. Thanks, Rogue Five."

"My pleasure," Rainman replied, using all of his skill to stay with the T/A he had driven from Ranger's tail. "Can't let anyone vape my best student."

"Before this op is over, I want a rematch in the sims."

"Still a glutton for punishment, I see." Rainman's persistence paid off as the TIE's rear shields failed and his next shot turned it into a shower of glittering particles against his own protective bubble. "You're on. Provided we both survive."

If there was one craft in the Imperial arsenal that Zoom coveted, it was the TIE Advanced. With the speed of an A-wing and the hitting power of an X-wing, the T/A proved that even the Empire could do something right if they threw enough money at the problem. But the same qualities that earned it his admiration made it a deadly foe in the hands of a skilled pilot - like the ones they faced now.

Zoom's outer shields were gone and his regular ones were reading a dangerous amber until he dumped his remaining laser power to them. He couldn't keep doing that for long, especially since he'd been forced to charge his lasers more slowly to keep up with the fast and maneuverable brights. Soon he'd run out of power and luck, and that would be the end.

He threw a quick glance at the Salvatore and was relieved to see that it was on the move again, heading away from the battle. A lone T/A swooped past and traded a few shots with whoever was manning the topside turret. For the most part, however, the brights seemed to be ignoring the ATR and concentrating on the X-wings. Zoom couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

"Hyl, how much longer?"

"Another minute to get clear and finish the calculations for hyperspace," the Liberty's search and rescue pilot replied, his voice crackling in Zoom's headphones. "Just hold them off until then."

"Sure," Zoom answered with more confidence than he felt. "No problem." He banked hard left to drop in on the tail of the TIE that had just darted in front of his nose and set about fulfilling that promise.

The combined efforts of the four X-wing pilots soon reduced the number of their foes to only two. Rainman and Kid jousted with the remaining T/As, keeping them distracted and low on shields, while the Salvatore and the Reds escaped. Once their friends were clear, the Rogues quickly dispatched the last TIEs, destroying one and sending the other limping back to base on one engine. Before the frigates could launch more fighters, they were gone.

[The bridge of the ISD Iron Fist]

Admiral Zsinj tsked gently at the hologram that floated before him. Add to the list of Damerra's follies, he thought, the decision to leave his ship in the hands of a loyal but woefully inexperienced young officer. Though he would never say so in public, Zsinj felt that many of the Academy's recent graduates were so mush-minded as to be incapable of anything but following orders. Fortunately for all, he was in a position to give those orders.

"It sounds as if you're in quite a predicament, Lieutenant Commander," the admiral concluded, stroking one of his drooping mustachios. "And you're certain that the Rebels will attack again?"

"Yes, sir." Nievel's image swallowed. "That is, it fits what we've seen so far..."

"I agree. And we cannot allow them to succeed." Zsinj had been leaning back in his command chair; now he rose to his feet, an impressive maneuver considering his bulk. "Therefore, we must meet them with enough force to utterly crush whatever they might send against you. It happens that my task force is within a half hour's travel of your position. We shall be there shortly to help you out."

Even in miniature, the relief on Nievel's face was obvious. "Thank you, Admiral. I'm in your debt."

"Yes," Zsinj purred, "you are." He let the younger officer consider that for a moment, then smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "But think nothing of it, not now. Like yourself, I am only doing my duty as a loyal servant of the Emperor."

Nievel nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir! For the glory of the Empire!"

"For the glory of the Empire," Zsinj parroted blandly. "Iron Fist out." His smile vanished with the hologram.

Mush-minds, all of them.

No sooner had the Salvatore touched down than the hangar's PA speakers began to blare a warning to prepare for imminent jump. Outside the glowing rectangle that indicated the magcon field in operation, the starfield twisted and blurred into random streaks.

Phoenix and Carcajou stepped out of the assault transport's airlock and onto the deck. They were wrapped in silvery heat blankets after their brief exposure to the cold of space. Underneath, they still wore their flight suits. Hyl was right behind them.

"I'm telling you," Phoenix was complaining to Hyl, "I feel fine. Good to fly. Loan me a snubfighter or send me back over to the Regis when we arrive."

Hyl shook his head regretfully. "You know I can't do that. You've been EV; that means you both get an hour's dunk in the bacta tank, on the house. Wouldn't want to catch a cold, or frostbite, would you?"

"But I feel fine!" Phoenix repeated desperately. He looked over his shoulder at the view of hyperspace. "Come on, you can't ground me now..."

"I can and I will," Hyl said, pointing to his shoulder. "See these? My two pips beats your one." As Phoenix slumped in defeat, Hyl softened his tone again. "Don't worry, there'll be other battles."

There was no time for a real briefing, so Zoom and the other four pilots that had been selected for the final assault - Ranger, Yale, Dragon and Kiki - formed a quick huddle in front of the Y-wings.

"Okay. In a few minutes the Regis will drop out of hyperspace, close to the coordinates we just left but far enough that we shouldn't be in immediate danger. The Liberty should already be engaging those two frigates when we arrive. The plan is, Rogue Squadron will cover our backs while we go straight up the middle. Don't slow down and don't look back, or those TIEs will be all over you like ugly on a Hutt."

"Do we go after the shield generators first?" asked Yale.

Zoom nodded. "If we're lucky, the Wisp hasn't had that flaw corrected. So if you get a shot at the topside domes, take it, but don't be too surprised if the shields don't go down. Other good targets are the warhead launcher at the nose and any topside turrets."

"After your torpedoes are gone..." Zoom paused and shrugged. "Up to you. It'll be a big help if someone can disable the Wisp once her shields are down. Other than that, use your best judgment and try to stay alive. If you come under heavy fire, withdraw immediately."

Dragon wanted to know, "What if more Imperials show up?"

"Pop any torpedoes you have left into the Wisp; dumb-fire them if you have to. Then scatter. We'll meet at the rendezvous point near Talchuk."

"Any other questions? Okay. Kyp's still up on the bridge, so I'll say this for him: may the Force be with us all. Now, let's get out there and bag ourselves a Star Destroyer!"

Someone thrust a hand into the center of the huddle. Four others joined it.

"GO RED!"