[Somewhere on the Outer Rim of the Galaxy...]

Stars speckled the void of space around system ISS-1648. Surveyed millennia earlier by Old Republic scouts, no one had ever bothered naming the bleak system, containing only a small asteroid belt poor in minerals. The only ships seen this far off trading lanes were those not intending to be found, and even they were seldom visitors to this dark corner of the galaxy. Had any observers been present, even they would have been surprised to see the skeletal Nebulon-B frigate emerge suddenly from hyperspace with a flash of pseudo-motion. Antennae spurs jutted seemingly from everywhere on the Anaconda, the escort frigate assigned to the Star Destroyer Venom's battlegroup. The slender form of the warship belied the deadly potential it held for its enemies, especially starfighters, which the Kuat Drive Yards had originally designed the ship to engage.

As the Anaconda slowed to cruising speed, four TIE interceptors appeared out of its side hangar, quickly falling into a diamond formation. Each of the Interceptors bore serpentine markings which wound around the eye-like cockpit, coming to a fanged head above the viewport. The lead fighter's head was hooded. Starfighter markings on Imperial craft were generally reserved for elite fighter groups, and Viper Squadron was no exception. The Anaconda's starfighter group was feared throughout this region of space for its extraordinary skill in dispatching its enemies.

"Control, this is Viper Lead. Alpha Flight is in position and is now initiating patrol pattern Delta-Sigma-Oh-One," reported Shayn D'Lorien, commanding officer of Viper Squadron. "We shall proceed with maneuvers until target of opportunity arrives."

"Copy, Viper Lead," droned the Anaconda's communications officer. Clearly it was of no interest to him whether or not Alpha Flight began flying figure eights around the frigate. Even in the Empire, there was a certain amount of animosity between regular naval officers and fighter pilots. "Captain Velik would like to relay that a distress call has been received from a supply convoy passing through the Meridian system. Anaconda is responding, but will return in one hour to retrieve Alpha Flight. Out."

"Affirmative Control, Viper Lead out."

As D'Lorien banked his TIE away from the Anaconda, it lingered in space a few moments longer, adjusted its vector, and then flashed into hyperspace. After a few seconds, no trace of the Anaconda's presence in the system remained but its four TIE Interceptors.

As Alpha Flight methodically followed their patrol pattern, D'Lorien reflected on the mission briefing his squadron had been given earlier that day. An Imperial Intelligence operative planted within the Rebellion's chain-of-command had uncovered information regarding a convoy assumed to be bearing weapons and other supplies to a Rebel base located somewhere in the Outer Rim. The flight path for the convoy had been sent immediately to the Anaconda, with orders to locate and destroy any vessels bearing contraband. Captain Velik had immediately formulated a plan and called a conference.

"Sir," he had said, "with all due respect, why are we going to ISS-1648? That is extremely far off the trade routes in this region, and the information the Rebels are likely to have of routes to and from that system are likely to be several centuries old at best."

"Precisely, Commander," scowled Velik. His eyes flashed with annoyance at being interrupted in the telling of his grand scheme. "That is exactly why the Rebels will seek to elude our forces there. Commander, understand that while you are one of the best pilots we have in the service of this battlegroup, you are still young. Leave it to your superiors to ponder such circumstances in the future..."

Several minutes later, however, the comm-silence was broken by D'Lorien's XO. "Alpha One, this is Alpha Two. Sensors are registering, three... no... four targets exiting from hyperspace. They appear to be freighters. Shall we engage?"

"Negative Two, form up on me," returned D'Lorien. "We will fly in close for a look first. If our sensors detect any contraband, you have permission to engage. Do not, I repeat, do not engage target until we have confirmation of their cargo."

D'Lorien banked his Interceptor in towards the freighters, now less than twelve klicks out. Suddenly, a cold sensation washed over his body, standing the hairs on the back of his neck on end underneath his flight helmet. He suddenly felt the impulse to contact the freighters. He switched to the general comm frequency and said firmly, "Unidentified vessels, you are in Imperial controlled space. State your cargo and destination."

The reply was swift. "Imperial starfighters, this is Banel Vooshra of the Alderaan Star. My ship and its convoy are bearing passengers to Sluis Van. We are simply making a scheduled stop in our route. Is there a problem sir?"

At the words "Alderaan Star, " D'Lorien felt a stab of ice pierce his heart. He had heard the news of his home planet's destruction, just three weeks before. He had lost all his family in the disaster. The crew of the Anaconda included 13 Alderaanians, and they'd all been told that the Rebels used a secret weapon on the planet after Alderaan refused to compromise their pacifist doctrines by joining the Rebellion. The Imperial Navy thereafter trapped the perpetrators and destroyed the weapon.

That was the official story. But just a few days ago, D'Lorien had heard disturbing rumors while the Anaconda made a supply stop at Kuat. The Rebels were not to blame for Alderaan's death, but the Empire. And more evidence pointing in that direction seemed to mount every day.

Alpha Three spoke up on the flight's private channel. "Sir, my long range scanners appear to be malfunctioning. I believe the freighters have some sort of jamming field up to prevent us from scanning their cargo. This must be the Rebel convoy."

"Copy that Three, keep formation." Commander D'Lorien then returned his attention to the convoy captain. "That will depend on your cooperation, Captain Vooshra. Power down your engines and await inspection."

"Imperial starfighters, we are on a very tight schedule here and I have very important passengers on board. If they..."

Shayn cut him off. "I REPEAT. Power down your engines and await inspection. If you refuse to comply, we will open fire."

This time D'Lorien received no answer. The freighters turned away from the incoming TIEs and made full speed for their exit vector. Before Shayn could respond, his flight was screaming by him, laser cannons hot. At this point, no authorization to engage was necessary. Imperial conditioning told the other members of Alpha Flight that these freighters were their targets, and they intended to see their mission through.

Shayn felt the urge to order his wingmen to stop. In fact, he felt for some reason that he must. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do so. He followed his flight in towards the fleeing freighters. His hands strained against the yoke, trying to divert his fighter away from the convoy, but something held him firm like an iron hand. This isn't supposed to happen. This is all wrong.

D'Lorien suddenly realized that he was no longer in control. The subtle workings of Imperial indoctrination had completely taken over. He no longer served his own will; he served the will of the Emperor. Then the screams of hundreds of people, in pain and dying, filled his head. They did not cease, but slowly grew with furious intensity inside his mind. His TIE Interceptor spun out of control as he screamed, futilely attempting to drown out the voices...

Sean "Leo" Healey suddenly sprang up in bed, the screams now a fading echo in his ears. This was not the first time he had had such a nightmare. Since he had defected to the Rebellion close to four years ago, they haunted his sleep from time to time, much as his past haunted him. Though Sean was welcomed into the Alliance as a son of Alderaan, his past in Imperial service marked him still, even if it was only in his own dark dreams.

Sean had acted that day long ago when his flight began their strafing run on the Rebel convoy. Captain Vooshra was not lying when he said he was carrying passengers, though his freighters were also laden with supplies. Shayn D'Lorien turned against his Emperor that day, and saved the lives of over five hundred people. But Shayn D'Lorien was a spectre of the past.

Wiping the cold sweat from his face, Leo rose from bed and began to prepare for the day. The Regis was busier than ever now that it had again become a training vessel, and he had promised Ranger that he would fly against cadets in the simulators. Heading to the refresher to clean up, Leo buried the memories of his dream. The Empire still had much to pay for, but that could wait.

[Several hours later, in the Simulator Room...]

The rear door of the ball-shaped simulator slowly whirred open, letting an exhausted Leo out of the mock cockpit of a TIE Fighter. The Red cadets improved each day, and the recent loss of their training platform did not seem to have hurt their flying. That was good. Ranger had done well in teaching them. Today's exercise, which happened to be designed around atmospheric combat, had strained Leo's abilities to the limit as a pilot. TIE Fighters were extremely agile fighters in the void of space, but under the influence of gravity and "goo," its maneuverability was severely hampered. Leo silently gave his credit to the Alliance code slicers who had almost programmed the simulator for the TIE to match those limitations too well. Some of the cadets still had much to learn to match his experience in the cockpit, but some of Ranger's brighter trainees had managed a "kill" or two on Leo today in combat.

Leo stared over at the group arrayed in front of his friend Ranger. Though some of them were quite older than he, Leo still couldn't help but think of them as "kids" and made a silent prayer that they would survive long enough to see their own futures flower in the Alliance as he had been able to.

After debriefing all the cadets standing at attention, Neill "Ranger" Magill, Red Squadron's Training Officer, walked towards Leo. "Thanks again Leo, I really appreciate you giving a few hours to fly with the cadets."

Leo smirked. "Of course, no problem Neill. A few of them really lit my rear end up today in the sims."

"Nothing you aren't used to in general though, eh Sean?"

"Well, let's see. An Imperial agent gave me a major concussion to the back of my head not two weeks ago, and then, out of the blue, Assassin's droid tries to take off my arm. Yeah, you could say that I suppose." Sean laughed, and the two pilots walked out of the Simulator Room. "Have you been able to get any down time since we arrived to Tuskoon?"

"Sadly, no. I've been back and forth between here and the Summer the entire time, making sure everything is proceeding on schedule over there. While we are in the repair dock they are installing up-to-date simulators over there as well. We may keep one or two on the Regis, but I suppose Capt. Daly is going to need the extra room for supplies in the coming weeks. I've also been in communication with the quartermaster here trying to make sure we'll be able to replace the Z-95s we lost when...," Ranger paused for a moment, "...when Red Base blew."

Leo didn't need extrasensory perception to know that the training platform's loss had been painful for Ranger. He, more than any of the other Reds, had spent time at Red Base since his trainees were stationed there. He had lost many friends in its resulting destruction when the Empire surprise-attacked Red Squadron in port.

Leo clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder, "Well, let me know if I can help you with anything while we are in port. I really don't have many duties while we are locked up here," gesturing out a nearby port at the framework that surrounded the Regis, allowing crews to more efficiently repair the battle-scarred ship.

Ranger looked at Leo appreciatively, then sighed. "Thanks Sean. I need to get through some datawork and work on the cadet evaluations for these training sessions."

"Yeah, go earn that Captain's pay."

"The extra money comes in handy. I can win even more out of you with it." Ranger grinned.

"Hey now! You got lucky on that hand. If that had been any other card, you would have owed me three weeks combat pay."

"Yeah... sure. Anyhow, I should get started on that datawork. Where can I find you later... say, in three hours or so?"

"Oh, you know me. I'll probably be down in the Mug."

With that, the two pilots parted. Leo headed back to his room to change out of his flight gear. He was off duty for the next six hours, and the less time in uniform the better. After he'd changed and was about to leave his quarters, he noticed the red flashing light on his terminal. He had a message. Musta arrived while I was flying the training missions. "Computer, display new message."

The monitor flickered to life, and Mark "Redjed" Hagues' face appeared on the screen. "Hi Leo. I guess you're still in the sims with the Training Wing. If you had some free time, I needed to talk to you about something. There's no hurry, it's not urgent. Redjed out."

With that, the monitor again darkened, allowing Leo to absorb the message. He and Redjed were friends of course, but this did not seem the sort of message one got from Red Squadron's resident Jedi student everyday. Mark tended to associate most closely with Vape and occasionally Yale, since the former was well learned in swordplay and the latter in Teras Kasi, the martial art of the Jedi order. Redjed did seem troubled though, and Leo would see what he could do for his comrade. He set out from his quarters towards the Mug, hoping to run into Mark along the way.

The corridors of the Regis were all but empty, the majority of the crew being on duty at this hour, preparing for departure. A lone figure was walking along the passageways without his usual quiet confidence. Mark "Redjed" Hagues, pilot of the Rebellion and heir to what remained the Jedi tradition, nodded or smiled to those few he passed by, but his thoughts were turned inwards at the moment.

Sirah, why did you follow me into this? Don't you realize that few who follow our cause live long to tell of it? What will Mom and Dad think?

Mark had known that his sister had left what he had always considered his home, an anonymous safeworld in the Outer Rim, not more than a year ago. The relayed messages from his parents that followed her disappearance bewildered him. He had always hoped to come across her again somewhere in the Galaxy. Each day that had gone by without hearing word of her whereabouts unsettled him further. Having spent much more time outside their hidden colony than she, Redjed knew how dangerous the Galaxy was for those who opposed the Emperor, especially those with the rare gift of knowing the Force.

And then, almost too suddenly, Sirah appeared again on Maldar Prime at a local cell's recruitment meeting. Redjed knew better at the time than to try and hinder her from doing what she felt was right for herself, but he couldn't help but being eaten inside out with worry. Sirah had begged him not to tell their parents where she was, and grudgingly, he accepted.

Capt. Daly had ordered that all nonessential personnel were to be transported off the Regis, with its upcoming operations pending. Mark's CO, Kelly "Zoom" St. Clair had graciously been able to get Sirah transport to a Rebel camp where Sirah could stay for the time being. He assured Mark that she'd be safe. Somehow, though, Redjed knew that the likelihood of him seeing her anytime soon was very slim.

We'll always have the Force to keep us together Mark. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, she had said as she boarded the transport.

His silent plea went unanswered, and he found that silence even more foreboding. Looking up momentarily, he realized that his wanderings had brought him through the frigate's "officer's country." He noticed this just before he ran into the young woman exiting the office immediately in front of him.

"Oops! Uh, I'm sorry..."

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Is everything okay out there? Lieutenant Hagues?" Another face appeared in the open door. It was Capt. Daly.

"Everything is fine sir," Redjed said, saluting reflexively. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

"At ease, Lieutenant Hagues, no apology to me is necessary." A bemused smile crossed the captain's face. "Perhaps you should say something to the lady, though?"

Redjed blushed. The person he'd run into was indeed female, and her scowl was fading, replaced by a look of amusement at his floundering. "Pardon me, ma'am."

"Lieutenant Hagues, may I introduce you to Lieutenant Tessa Valis. She will be flying shuttle operations for the Regis in the coming weeks." He then turned to the other officer. "Lieutenant Valis, this is one of our Reds, Lieutenant Mark "Redjed" Hagues. Perhaps he will be glad to give you a brief escort of the ship, as I'll be busy with ship's business until after we're under way."

"Of course sir, I would be glad to."

Seeing that the young man was still blushing deeply, Daly laughed. "Really, Lieutenant Hagues, no need to be embarrassed. Now, if you will excuse me." Both Redjed and Valis saluted the Captain, who stepped back into his office, the door closing swiftly behind him.

Redjed then turned to the woman, and for the first time, was able to take in her features. She was ... pretty, probably in her mid-20's. Her dark brown hair was arranged in a tight knot behind her head. Her face was lean, with strong cheekbones. Her hazel eyes were sharp and looked him over measuringly. Suddenly, her hand shot out to grab his own. He had not even realized he'd put it out there.

"Pleased to meet you Lieutenant Hagues." she said curtly.

"Please, I'm off duty. Call me Mark."

"Fine then, Mark," she said, sounding as if she was humoring him. "Another one of your squadmates, Lieutenant Sazril I believe, has already given me a tour of most of the Regis on our way to Capt. Daly's office. He didn't show me where everyone ate however. Care to show me?"

Mark smiled, not quite sure what she had exactly meant with her last sentence. "Sure. The mess is closed, but the Mug's lunch menu isn't too bad. It's this way."

The two of them set off, her smooth gait matching Redjed's easily. They continued to talk as they rounded the corner of the corridor.

He spotted the Idiri bartender, Trix, at the bar, and walked in her direction. She looked up at him as he approached and gave him a friendly smile. "Greetings Leo, what can I do for you today?"

"Heya Trix. Nothing much yet, just looking for Yale. Seen him?"

Trix motioned over to a table on the far side of the Mug. "He has been waiting for you."

"Great, thanks Trix."

"When do you plan on paying back your bar tab by the way?"

Leo reddened. "Didn't I say next pay check on that?"

Trixel frowned. "You always the 'next pay check.'" But don't worry about that right now, Sean. Yale needs someone to talk to."

Leo was already headed over in Yale's direction, and missed most of Trix's last comment. Walking up to the table, he said, "Sorry I'm late. Ranger decided to give the trainees extra sim time and locked me with them. I didn't even have the time to go to the refresher after changing."

"No wonder something stinks in here."

"Watch it, pal." Leo began composing a pun to come back at Yale with, when Trix's approach interrupted his scheming.

"What'll you have, Sean?" The look on her face suggested that she was ready to hear Leo blurt out one of his "random concoctions," as Yale called them. Leo decided to catch her off guard with his order. "Citrusade on ice if you have any, Trix."

"Just citrusade? Are you all right, Leo?" Trix asked. Leo smiled inwardly: his plan had worked perfectly. Yale then ordered and the two exchanged some small talk for the next minute when Yale asked Leo a question that seemed to come out of the blue.

"Have you noticed what I call her, Leo?"

Realizing that he was referring to Trix, Leo thought a moment. "It's either Trixel or Narmi. Why?"

"Don't you think it's strange that I use her full name instead of Trix, like the rest of you?"

"Not really. You tend to be so formal most of the time that it seems natural."

"Even in an informal place like this?"

This line of questioning was beginning to both puzzle and concern Leo. Where is he going with this? He said he needed to talk to me about something important. What does what he calls the bartender have to do with anything? . "Well..."

Leo was cut short as Yale again seemed to totally change the subject. "What do you know about me, Leo? I mean before I joined Red Squadron..."

Leo realized that there was not much he knew of Yale's past. That had never really surprised him, though. Members of the Rebellion tended to carry secrets, aspects of their past they'd rather not share with others. Yale's secrecy regarding his personal life hadn't ever really offended him. Answering Yale, he said, "Not much. Zoom said that you were a ground pounder on cross-departmental training. And you tend to distance yourself from the rest of us. I think I only get to talk to you because I was your wingman. And even I don't know much about you."

Yale regarded Leo for a moment, and then began, "Have you ever heard of the SpecForce?..."*
*For the rest of the tale, see Yale's Story: The Loss.

Mark and Tessa continued to make their way towards the Mug. After the collision incident, the two had seemed to hit it off pretty well through conversation. Redjed did not mention his Jedi heritage to the young woman, but did share many other stories with her as they traveled the ship's corridors, recalling incidents that happened "outside that door" or "just around the corner over there." It surprised Redjed to hear the degree of affection he had developed for the ship. He may have been brought up on a planet far from the hub of galactic civilization, but the Regis was now his home.

Tessa let him talk as they walked, never interrupting his storytelling. Something in her eyes seemed to show a bit of pain, as if her memories of previous assignments were not so pleasant. She asked very few questions, but when she did, they were almost always concerning Mark's life.

The two stopped as they came to a large viewport, offering a breathtaking view of the planet Tuskoon below them.

"Lieutenant... I mean Mark." Tessa offered him a quick smile for her blunder. "Thank you for being such a courteous tour guide so far. I believe I am going to enjoy my time here on the Regis very much. However, I really am beginning to get very hungry."

Mark checked his chronometer. Nearly two hours had passed since they had left Capt. Daly. "Oh gosh! I'm really sorry! I had no idea what time it was. Please, this way."

A few more turns and corridors and they arrived at the Mug at last. Redjed hesitated on the threshold as he felt a disturbance in the Force. But that was nothing compared to the shock when the door hissed open just in time for him to see Yale knock Zoom to the floor.

"I KNOW!" He heard Zoom yell across the room as Red Leader slowly rose back to his feet. The rest of his commander's words were lost in the murmuring of the surrounding Mug patrons. Yale, now being held at bay by Leo, said something else, shrugged off his squadmate, and stormed out of the Mug through another exit. Redjed remained just outside the door, not sure what to do

"Mark, what's going on here?"

Redjed turned back to his charge for the afternoon, looking very serious. "I don't know Tessa, but I'm going to find out. Why don't you grab a table for us? I'll be right over."

Tessa nodded, having seen the emotions written clear on Mark's face but deciding not to say anything more for now. She slipped past him into the Mug, avoiding the confrontation that was now breaking up. Zoom had started stalking toward the door, and Redjed quickly got out of his way. The man seemed to have an almost visible dark cloud over his head. Redjed gave his commander a parting glance and then stepped inside, going over to Leo.

"Leo, what is going on? What just happened?"

It took Leo a few moments to gather his wits together and reply. "Yale...Yale was telling me about his past, when Zoom joined us. She's dead, Mark....she's dead."

Redjed could see Leo was hurting too, but he had to know. "Leo, who's dead? "

Leo looked Redjed in the eye. Mark had never seen him like this; Sean was usually pretty good at hiding his deeper emotions behind his "hotshot pilot" act. The words all came out in a rush. "Chelsy... she... Zoom gave her leave... went to save her mother. They killed her, Mark. They caught her and killed her."

Redjed didn't need to ask who they was. Anger welled up within him and it took all that he knew to calm himself. Anger was dangerous to those who would walk the path of the Jedi. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on Leo's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.

Leo again looked at Redjed, seeming to draw strength from his squadmate. "Zoom said we'll be holding a special service later on today. Main hangar deck."

"I'll be there."

His squadmate turned and began to walk away. Then, remembering something, he faced Mark again. "Sorry pal, did you say you needed to talk to me about something earlier?"

"It can wait. Just some family problems."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go take some time to relax before the service."

Leo smiled humorlessly and left Mug. Redjed walked over to where Tessa sat, seeing her concern. Mark briefly explained what he knew of the situation to her. When he was done, she looked at the table and finally said, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Leo stood at attention, surrounded by the rest of the Regis' pilots and crew, as Zoom, Kyp and Yale slowly lifted off the deck and passed through the hangar force field. Assuming the "missing man" formation, they circled and passed by the hangar again.

"Honor Guard, salute!" bellowed Ranger.

Leo's hand snapped to his brow, along with the rest of Red Squadron's. Redjed stood at attention across from Sean, his face blank. Leo remembered the sparring matches he'd been able to attend. Mark had greatly improved under her tutelage. Leo was impressed at the young man's control, but wondered if he was keeping his emotions too tightly in check.

Sweeping the others' faces, he saw similar expressions of grief. Yale, of course, had seemed to have taken it the worst. After recounting his past and then, with those memories fresh in his mind, learning of Vape's death, the man must have been ready to tear himself apart. I'm just glad he didn't do more to Zoom, Leo thought, recalling the ease with which Yale had been able to break his hold.

On the hangar's loudspeaker, the crew heard Yale's voice. "Parting is such sweet sorrow...Vape, you will always be in our hearts. May your light always shine bright within us and give us strength to complete our journey and meet again. May the Force be with you in your new journey and with us to complete what you and us have started. Until we meet again."

A blue streak flew from Yale's snubfighter, which Leo knew to be the modified proton torpedo arranged for this ceremony. It grew smaller and smaller against the starfield outside until at last it burst into flashes of color. Leo was struck by the thought that Vape would have enjoyed watching this. Maybe she was.

"Peace be with you Vape, wherever you are."

Peace. Peace was what Leo's family had wanted when his father had decided not to fly in combat again. Yet even those noble gestures, the wish of his entire world to put war behind them, was not enough to stop the Empire. Alderaan had become merely an example to other worlds with rebellious intentions. Ironically, Alderaan had paid the ultimate price of war to satisfy the desires of a few greedy individuals. Blood was on the Empire's hands... the blood of billions.

Leo had never had a chance to say good-bye to his family. He was many light-years away, serving a cause that he believed would preserve his planet from the conflict elsewhere in the galaxy. Those he'd given his loyalty to had betrayed him. He'd always wondered if he ever had a chance of saving his family, if somewhere, he should have turned that way instead of this way. His friends taught him, however, that the loss of his family was not his fault, that he could not have done anything to save them.

Leo knew them to be right. Had he attempted to rebel against his superiors before he did, he probably would have been another nameless casualty in this war. A traitor executed by the swift hand of Imperial justice. The Alliance had given him a chance to start anew, and to bring real justice to the guilty.

Vape had a chance to save her mother and she'd taken it. For that, the Empire had killed them both. Leo could accept that he had been able to do nothing to stop the loss of his family. But that Vape could have done something, yet was not allowed to, filled him with rage.

The Empire had killed his family and his world. They had denied Vape every right, and finally her life. Leo would see to it that he would deny them their capability to do the same to others, even if it cost him his own life in the bargain.