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

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

"Roger that, Zoom," Rapier replied.

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

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

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

"Lieutenant Nievel."

"Yes sir!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anything coming up?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Copy that, Red Leader."

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

"Engage with laser cannons, maximum range."

"Roger."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is the rest of Alpha Squadron standing by?"

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

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

"They’re firing! Break!"

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

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

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

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

"Nice one, Three."

"Thanks. Ranger, how are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just a few more minutes.

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

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

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

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

He wouldn't be humiliated again.

"Three, can you see Ranger?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sir?"

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

"Sir?"

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

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

"Captain!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

[One week later]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zoom chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay. Any other questions?"

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

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

"Close enough, sir."

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

"Yes, sir."

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