[Baden & Maxfield's Quarters, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 2158 Hours]

The communications panel beeped loudly, rousing Rob Baden from his restful sleep. He looked around and noticed that his roommate, Chad "Kulgon" Maxfield, wasn't in the cabin. Probably has patrol, he thought to himself as he climbed out of his bunk and walked over to the communications station. He reached down and flipped the switch to stop the beeping. "Baden here."

"Captain, you've got a transmission from Vice Admiral Ull on a secure channel," came Jack Uoart's mature voice.

"Admiral Ull? For me?"

"Affirmative."

Rob scratched his head and slumped into the seat. "Okay, Commander, go ahead and connect me." A moment later the black screen was replaced by a middle-aged man in a Fleet uniform. Rob suddenly remembered to stand to attention and snapped off a sharp salute as he acknowledged the ranking officer. "Sir."

"At ease, Captain. I wanted to talk to you about the current situation with Red Squadron."

"Yes, sir. I am sure you are aware of the leadership problem in the wake of what happened last week."

"Yes, I am. I'm afraid that, after spending the better part of the week looking, we have to officially list Colonel St.Clair as 'Missing in Action, Presumed Lost.' I know it's not what you want to hear, but SAR has combed the entire area and hasn't found anything even remotely related to an ejection system or a transmitter beacon. There's always the possibility that he was picked up by Imperial SAR before we could get to him, but, even if that's the case, he's in a galaxy of trouble."

"Yes, sir." Rob looked down slightly and then back up at the flag officer. He would grieve later, with the rest of the ship's crew, but right now there were other pressing matters. "Can you tell me when Major Magill will be returning to the Star, sir?"

"I'm afraid the major is not coming back, Captain. He's needed as an advanced instructor for the new Academy we've just set up, and Command can't afford to send him back out to the front lines."

The pilot looked at Ull with frustration showing all over his face. "Then, sir, my obvious question is who's going to take over command of Red Squadron?"

The superior officer frowned slightly as he focused his attention on Rob. "Captain, what I'm about to tell you is most likely going to shock you. But, I want you to know that, after having discussed it with the Third Fleet CAG, my Intelligence liaison, and Captain Ru'kaart, I am confident that it is the right decision given the circumstances." Admiral Ull paused and cleared his throat. "You may want to sit down for this, Captain."

"I already am, sir," replied Rob with a quizzical expression on his face. "If I may, sir...what's going on?"

"On unanimous consent from all above mentioned parties, you, Captain Baden, are hereby given a brevet promotion to the rank of lieutenant colonel and are being placed in command of Red Squadron."

"Me!?," answered Rob in a shocked voice. "But, Captain Maxfield has seniority over me. Why not her?"

"Command is a bit weary about how she was so easily able to escape Imperial captivity."

"That's bantha spit, Admiral. Chelsey Maxfield is an officer that exemplifies the very definition of what it means to be a New Republic pilot and I, for one, would be proud to follow her into battle."

"I appreciate your loyalty, Captain, but the decision has been made. Effective Oh Eight Hundred tomorrow…well, today, actually…you are the new commanding officer of Red Squadron."

Rob cursed inwardly and forced a neutral expression onto his face. "Alright, Admiral, I concede." Ull started to say something, but Rob cut him off. "However, I must insist upon my choice of executive officer, else I will not agree to this."

"Making demands of a superior officer could be construed as insubordination, Mr. Baden."

He shook his head slightly. "Oh, no, sir. That isn't the case at all. I just feel, that if you are going to lay this on me, I have the right to pick whom I want to be my second in command. Surely, you want to pick your own right hand person, Admiral. I hope you can see why I would want to as well."

"Don't play games with me, Captain. I'm not in the mood for it. Of course you can pick your Exec."

"Good," Rob replied with a satisfied grin on his face. "Captain Maxfield, then."

Ull shook his head slightly and gave a small shrug. "Remind me never to play sabacc with you. Fine, fine, Captain—or rather, Major—Maxfield will be your XO."

"Thank you, sir. Now, if I may ask, what is the real purpose of this call?"

"What do you mean?"

"Admiral, it's third watch; I get up very early; and I am quite sure you get up even earlier for your staff meetings. Now, obviously, there's something more going on than just informing me of my promotion and new responsibilities, or else you would have waited until tomorrow to inform me. And even then you most likely would have had the CAG or Captain Ru'kaart do it." He let his grin fade away until there was nothing but a neutral expression. "So, sir, what do you need Red for?"

"Very astute, Captain… but don't push your luck."

"I'll try not to, sir."

"Very well. Yes, you're right. Something has come up that requires our immediate attention, and the immediate expenditure of one of our fighter squadrons. We believed that, in order for the identity of the unit in question not to be immediately leaked, we would use a squadron that had just lost its leadership and was struggling to stay afloat in the wake of such a situation. Colonel Elebacca said your unit would be prime for the task."

"A-ha!" Rob interjected. "So that's why your Intelligence liaison was part of the consultation involving my promotion." It was as if he had just figured out a riddle that had plagued him for months.

Ull responded with a less than polite half smile. "Perhaps you should go into politics, Mr. Baden. You have a knack for speaking when others are trying to get your attention."

"No, thank you, Admiral." Baden smugly replied. "I don't wish to go to the Dark Side."

"Then I suggest you can it." Ull cleared his throat and gave a little tug on his uniform. "Now, as I was saying…since your unit was chosen, you're now to be informed that you are part of a clandestine operation under the command of Brigadier General Nelson. You'll follow his orders without question, Mr. Baden." Ull placed a not so subtle emphasis on the last sentence. "I hope you won't have a problem with that."

"Not at all, sir."

"Good. Then I'll let you get back to your sleep. Goodnight, Colonel." The image faded out and the room darkened once again.

Rob cursed under his breath and grumbled. "Goodnight, Admiral," he stated, well aware that Ull had already closed the connection. He tapped his fingers on the console and about a minute later the half-awake face of Chelsey Maxfield appeared on the monitor. "Good morning, Chelsey."

"Rob," said Chelsey in response, half-yawning. "This better be important."

"Oh, I'm quite sure that it is. We've got something to talk about. Meet me in twenty minutes in Zoom's old office."

[Executive Cabin One, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 0758 Hours]

Chelsey stepped through the doors of the cabin and looked around with an unreadable expression on her face. She never really expected to see the inside of this cabin from the perspective of being an occupant of it, but here she was. She still wasn't quite sure how it all happened; and she could tell from the way Rob was acting that he wasn't exactly sure himself. However, while she was mostly in shock of her promotion, she seemed to be in seething anger about his promotion over her.

Shaking her head gently and walking over to the empty bed, she sat down on it carefully. Rob was a great friend. She could certainly understand his anger at seeing someone whom he believed worthier of his job than he being denied it; but she just didn't think that command was something at which she was excessively good. For a long time she'd been in charge of the unit's Flight Three—and still was, in fact—and she had never really expressed any desire, outwardly or inwardly, to become a command level officer.

Yet here she was, moving into what was, as of two seconds ago, her new quarters as executive officer of Red Squadron. They didn't look any different than the quarters she had previously occupied, but the symbolism of it struck dead on. Here she was, a simple pilot in a simple unit, and was now the person responsible for the day-to-day operations of the squadron.

Force help me.

"Well," she said to herself quietly, "might as well get the grim duties out of the way." She walked over to the communications console and sat down. "Computer, recognize Maxfield, Major, Chelsey, Executive Officer, Red Squadron, Morning Star, Third Fleet, New Republic Armed Forces."

"Acknowledged," came the mechanical voice.

"Transfer all personal protocols from last known billet to current station, Executive Cabin One."

"Transfer complete."

"Delete files from source console in last known billet and provide standard security encryption for new default console."

"Completed."

"Log out and encrypt security log."

"Acknowledged; logging out."

There came a knock from the door and Chelsey turned around with a grin. Only one person she knew knocked on the door despite there being a call button on the side. She walked over to the door and hit the open switch, allowing her brother, Chad, to walk into the cabin. "You know, there is such a thing as technology; you really should give it a try sometime."

"Bah! Technology is overrated." He looked around and gave a satisfied nod. "I like the new place."

"Kor'en, it's exactly the same as my previous cabin. The only reason I moved is because under S.O.P., the executive officer's cabin is as close as possible to the commanding officer's." She gave a slight grin in his direction. "Speaking of which, how did you know where to find me anyways? I didn't tell you about the promotion. In fact, it wasn't even made official until a few minutes ago."

"Biggs, er, I mean, Colonel Baden told me. He felt that I'd want to know that my little sister was now a big person in the unit, a person to look up to."

"Keep it up, Kor'en, and I'll force some sim time on you."

"So, how does it feel to be second in command of the best unit in the New Republic?"

She looked at him with a sardonic grin and just shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I am not exactly sure. I'm still trying to recover from the shock of it. From what I was able to tell from Rob's expression earlier, he wasn't exactly expecting it to happen to him, either. I think he was about to go into a coma when Admiral Ull informed him of the promotion."

"I can't say I exactly blame him. He hasn't been around that long. Longer than me, of course, but what about you? You've been around for a lot longer than he has. Why didn't they offer you the position?"

She just shrugged again and plopped down on the bed. "I'm not entirely sure, but from what I could gather from Rob there's some sort of political issues concerning my background. I personally don't care. To be honest, I doubt that being commander of this outfit would allow me to remain sane anyway. After all, if the pilots treat us like we treated Zoom and Ranger, then we're going to be in for a long ride." She looked up at her brother and gave a fresh grin. "Just how did you find out, anyways? I know you said Rob told you, but surely he was too busy at the time to just stop by."

"We're cabinmates, or at least we were, if you recall. I came back from my patrol duty just as he was packing up some things. I could swear that I saw what looked two medium-sized swords. I didn't even know he knew how to fence."

"Hmmm, neither did I. I'll have to ask him about that sometime."

The ship's intercom sparked to life and the familiar voice of Jack Uoart spoke in a clear fashion. "All members of Red Squadron please report to the briefing room. I repeat, all members of Red Squadron please report to the briefing room."

Chelsey looked at her brother and winked. "I better get changed. It wouldn't do well for the XO to show up without her appropriate rank pips. And you, Flight Officer Maxfield, better not tell anyone what's going on our my first victim of sim time will be you."

Chad saluted with a grin and walked out the door, parting with a "Yes, Ma'am," over his shoulder.

Chelsey sighed and pulled out the three-pipped rank insignias. They looked almost exactly like the ones she had worn for a while as a captain, except they were upside down. She supposed that she didn't really need new insignias—that she could just put the old ones on upside down—but because of the way they fastened to the uniform she had to.

She reached up and took off the captain's insignia on her right collar and replaced it with the new one denoting her as a major. She then repeated the action for her other collar and took both of the old captain's insignias and placed them on the desk beside her bunk. Then she stood up, tugged on her uniform tunic to straighten it out, and headed for the door towards her new duties.

[Red Squadron Briefing Room, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 0828 Hours]

Chris Layne looked around the briefing room and saw the gloomy faces of most of the other Reds. The week had not been kind to them, as first Major Magill transferred out to the newly formed New Republic Academy on Commenor's moon of Folor, and then Colonel St.Clair's fighter had been destroyed while the squadron was making an assault against an Imperial repair facility earlier in the week. There were no indications, one way or the other, of the fate of St.Clair, but, as the time kept ticking by, the chances of finding him were slim, especially given that his air supply would have run out by now.

Chris didn't want to think about the prospect of St.Clair's body floating endlessly in the dark abyss of space, arms flailing as he struggled to breathe, but the black thought festered until there was nothing else he could think about. It was enough to make him want to vomit.; sSuffocation in a vacuum was the nightmare of every pilot.

"I wonder where Vape is," commented Jamie Wetherill beside him.

Chris looked around and couldn't detect the woman at all. She had recently finished with her bacta treatments and was released from the medical ward a couple of days ago, so she was certainly fit for duty. Even so, she was no where to be seen.

Her brother, Chad, was present and chatting up a storm with the newest pilot to enter the squadron, Travis "Freqi" Morgan, so it wasn't a family situation that would have called her away. In fact, her absence wasn't that much of a problem for him. However, with her absence he noticed someone else was not present as well.

"I wonder where Biggs is," he said in response to Jamie's comment. "I don't see him anywhere either."

The doors opened and in walked Rob and Chelsey, both looking quite somber and serious. They approached the podium and Chris found that to be logical; as captains they were both the defacto acting commanders of the unit. However, behind them came a middle-aged Human male in a New Republic Army uniform as well as the Morning Star's resident Intelligence Officer, Captain Kitz.

Well, this is going to be interesting, Chris thought to himself.

"Good morning," Rob began, placing both of his hands on the podium. "I regret to inform you all that, due to the length of time passed and the possibility of finding him becoming more and more remote, Command has reclassified Colonel St.Clair's status as 'Missing in Action, presumed Lost.'" There were a few mutters of disappointment and unhappiness throughout the pilots gathered and Chris shared their sentiments with a frown of his own. "I know all of you are saddened by this loss. While it may seem pointless, I promise you that we will not give up hope."

Chris took a closer look at Rob and noticed something different about him. Normally he would wear his jacket, a black zip-up with gold stripping with his unit patch on one shoulder and his personal helmet artwork on the other, but this time he wasn't wearing a jacket at all. In fact, he's as spit-polished as ever, even though there's no reason to be. Boots aren't scuffed, uniform neatly pressed, rank insignias sh--

Chris did a double take when he noticed the four pips on Rob's rank insignias. Lieutenant Colonel!? But, how? When!?

"Some of you," continued Rob, "might think that Major Magill will be returning to the unit to take on the responsibilities of commanding officer. I regret to inform you that that will not be the case. However, Command has come up with another solution to the situation." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning briefly to Chelsey who was standing behind him and to the left. "Effective Oh Eight Hundred this morning, I have been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and given the position of Commanding Officer of Red Squadron. I have, in turn, insisted upon the immediate promotion of Chelsey Maxfield to the rank of Major and conferred upon her the position and duties of Executive Officer."

Chris couldn't help but hang his mouth wide open. He looked around and saw similar expressions from the other pilots.

"I wish that these promotions had occurred on happier terms, but such is war. And in keeping with that statement, I must inform you all of a mission that we have been chosen to be a part of. Captain Kitz, if you would?"

The magenta-skinned woman stepped forward and cleared her throat, a soft and exotic smile taking form just briefly. "Thank you, Colonel. And, once again, congratulations on the promotion." She turned to face the squadron of pilots. "Now then, the reason why Red is being thrust into a mission so soon after a command change is because Intelligence has identified a facility on Esseles that is housing a high-ranking Imperial researcher, Dr. Bevel Lemelisk. Dr. Lemelisk is renowned for his research in super lasers and could very well be the man responsible for the development of the Death Star battle stations."

Chris turned his head to look at the unknown Army officer standing behind Kitz and gave a slight frown. He noticed that his rank was that of a brigadier general and that meant he was very important, but Chris couldn't place a reason as to why he would be in this breifing. Surely, if this was an Intelligence-ran operation, then a Special Forces unit would be assigned to help in the abduction of the good doctor, not some Army GroPos.

"The plan will be as follows: Red Squadron will create a diversion, distracting the planetary authorities around Esseles while a transport stolen from a local known pirate will carry General Nelson's Red Talon black ops unit to the facility and abduct Dr. Lemelisk. Red Squadron will then provide covering fire and escort for the retreating transport as it makes it way out of the system."

"We will," commented Rob," of course, look over the specifics of the plan and decide on any changes that need to occur."

"Of course, Colonel Baden," responded the Army officer, speaking for the first time since he entered the room.

Chris could tell that the GroPo didn't seem to like Rob. Probably felt he was promoted too high. And indeed, Rob had come up fast in the ranks for the time he spent in uniform, but Chris knew that he was the right person for the job.

"Well then," said Rob, addressing the pilots once again, "that's all there is for the time being. Lieutenant Murshid, Lieutenant Layne, could you please stay behind for a moment? The rest of you, report to the simulators immediately to practice the initial planned operation of this mission. Dismissed."

Chris got up and walked towards the front of the briefing room, but not before looking over his shoulder to see the rest of the pilots filing out. Hmm, thought Chris, I wonder what they want Sazril and I for…

"You're going to get my people killed, General." Rob stared at the Army officer with a stone face as Sazril and Chris joined him and Chelsey. "You're not a tactician, sir, and this plan shows it. Not enough in-depth analysis, not enough thought given into how best to utilize the strengths of our fighter support. So, I think we need to go over this plan, the six of us, to make sure we all understand the situation."

Jav Nelson gave a cold smile in Rob's direction and the younger man gave a small, uncontrollable wince. "Colonel, your people are pilots. They fight in ships maintained by techs and engineers on a rigorous schedule. My people, on the other hand, go head-to-head with Imps, up close and personal, and do the dirty work that's too dismal to be talked about in the bars and lounges that you flyboys frequent. We are the darkness that you never see,; and pray that you never have to, Colonel…if you value your sanity."

"I think," interrupted Sooli, "that we should focus on the situation at hand, which is revising the operational plan." She turned towards Nelson. "I have to agree, sir, that this initial plan is a nightmare, tactically speaking. It provides an in-depth procedure for the Red Talons, but gives little or no operational procedure for Red Squadron."

"Very will, Captain Kitz, for your sake, I will help to revise the plan. However," he said, his eyes focusing once again on Rob, "I will not let some newbie flyboy commander tell me what to do." He turned to Chelsey, Chris, and Sazril, giving them the same stare. "Or his lackeys."

"Charming, isn't he," Rob heard Sazril mutter under his breath behind him.

"Oh, yes, quite," responded Chris. "I can see how women are just dying to go out with him."

"That's enough, you two," said Rob over his shoulder before turning his gaze to Nelson again. "My pips might be new, sir, but they still hold the same authority as my predecessor. And, while you do outrank me, this is unit will not be risking it's pilots until I am assured that all possible contingencies have been considered."

"Is this what Admiral Ull meant when he said you'd be cooperative?"

"Oh, I'm quite cooperative, General,. I just don't take kindly to people who are unwilling to take all contingencies into consideration. You'll find that once I've been assured of those considerations, I'm as fluffy as an Ewok to work with."

"Not that I've ever seen him like that," muttered Chris.

Nelson glared at Rob for a moment and then gave a curt nod in the direction of Sazril and Chris. "Who are they?"

"First Lieutenant Layne…the, uh, young one…is our tactical officer. First Lieutenant Murshid is the leader of Flight Two. I asked them to stay to help review the plan."

"This…kid…is your tactical officer?"

"In case you didn't notice, sir, a great many pilots in today's armed forces are of the average age of twenty-three. Lieutenant Layne is younger than that, yes, but he has earned his rank and his position with dedication and blood, just like anyone else fighting for the New Republic." Rob took a step closer to the general and let his eyes burn a little. "Including others in this room."

"Rob…" came a stern whisper from Sooli.

"Colonel, I think it would be best if we take a small break to settle down," said Nelson with a cold stare of his own. "After all, we wouldn't want to make tactical decisions while we're not at our best."

"I see no problem with that. How does two hours from now sound?"

"Agreeable."

"Two hours, then."

"Until then, gentlemen, ladies." Nelson gave a small nod and turned on his heel, walking out fast with the briefing room doors closing silently after him.

"Well," muttered Rob, "that could have gone better."

"Pay him no mind, Rob," said Sooli in her soothing and friendly voice. "General Nelson always acts that way. He feels he has a lot to prove in the wake of his taking over command from General Ivlin."

"Wait,! General Ivlin used to be in command of Red Talon?" commented Sazril. "I had heard rumors of Red Talon's commander being a down-right hard case, but Ivlin? She's smaller than Nosnern."

Chelsey cleared her throat subtly and everyone turned to her, Rob giving her a sly smile. "Lieutenant, I think you might want to rephrase that comment before the good major here decides to kick your head in."

"Uh, of course, sir. Apologies, Major, I meant no offense."

"Um, I hate to get off the topic of how tiny a woman Major General Ivlin is," said Chris, "but could one of you please explain to me just what in the name of the Force is going on here? I go out on patrol at Twenty-Three Hundred and come back at Oh Seven Hundred to find that I have a brand new commanding officer, as well as being thrust directly into a supposedly dangerous mission that I had no part in planning, under the direction of a man who thinks pilots are nothing more than a tool."

Rob gave a slight frown and let out a slow, haggard sigh. "It's exactly as I stated in the briefing, Chris. Command has designated that, with the remains of Colonel St.Clair being unconfirmed, they need a new commander for the unit. And, before you ask, the reason why Major Magill is not coming back is because flight instructors of his level are hard to come by and the Academy desperately needs him. It was not my choice to take over command of the unit, but I assure you that I plan to make sure it's run the way it's supposed to be."

He shook his head and gave a chin gesture in the direction of the doors. "As for General Nelson, he's Army black ops and I don't blame him for not wanting to work with a bunch of flyboys… er, and flygirls, sorry Chelsey. I don't particularly enjoy working with Army or the Corps at times."

"You haven't had to work with the Army or the Corps, Rob," pointed out Sooli."

"Well, yeah, but that's besides the point."

"Can we please get back to the subject at hand?" asked Chris. "Obviously we have some time to look into the plan, and the less we have to spend with General Happy the better. So, I suggest we look this over and come up with what we feel is the best situation."

"True. Okay, the outline of the original plan calls for us to make a diversionary attack against the orbital defenses around the northern hemisphere, drawing out the defensive TIEs. Intelligence says that there are two squadrons of Fighters stationed at the Golan-class Mark II Defense Platform as well as a reserve squadron able to scramble from the planet. From what we've been told," he said with a wry glance in Sooli's direction, "there are no starships in the area. But, it is my belief that there has to be at least one or two Corvettes. A planet this well-populated, and in such a strategic position, has to have some capital defenses, even if they are relatively small."

"Hmmm," said Chris. He walked over to the podium and switched the holo-projector on, allowing the floating symbol of Red Squadron to appear in mid-air. He typed in a few commands and the symbol was replaced by the floating outline of Esseles. He hit a key and the image zoomed in to show the North Pole with a G2 platform hovering overhead. "I'd suggest that the Corvettes would be stationed here," the outline of a Corvette appeared along the equator of the planet, "and here," and another one appeared along the equator opposite the first one on the other side of the planet. "This gives them coverage of most of the space lanes, and one of them is always able to intercept any pirates coming in from the outer system. Also, it provides a two-pronged attack should someone come in at the South Pole or against the platform at the North Pole."

"I think we're looking at this all wrong," commented Sazril.

"How so?" asked Rob, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, as I understand it, the way the GroPos are being dropped is a disguised transport ship, yes?"

"A captured transport ship from one of the local pirate groups, yes," answered Sooli."

"So…why not just disguise our fighters as though we're from the same group?"

"I believe the original concept was to distract attention away from the transport by having New Republic forces making a hit-and-run attack.." Rob looked at the holo-image for a moment, thinking intently. "However, perhaps we can change that. Captain, is there a way we can get our hands on a transponder and clearance codes for a transport belonging to KDY or SFS?"

Sooli looked at him with a curious expression on her face. "It's… possible, yes. Why?"

"Because we're going to use Sazril's idea… just a little differently."

[Red Squadron Briefing Room, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 1030 Hours]

"It's ludicrous!"

Rob gave an inward sigh at Nelson's reaction and shook his head. They had spent the last two hours reworking the mission plan and came up with something that seemed to work for all concerned; a plan that even Captain Kitz approved of, and they were getting shot down by the mission commander. Simply because he didn't think of it, I'm sure, Rob thought to himself. "May I ask the General why he believes it to be so?" he asked in a calm and almost dead voice.

"It puts too much unneeded attention and danger on my team. We want to slip in while the defenses are busy dealing with you, but if we come in as a friendly and are discovered to be an imposter with faulty codes, they're going to vape us within a millisecond."

"I don't see how the risk is any greater than the original plan. In fact, it would actually reduce the danger to your team. If we go with the original plan, your transport would be under continuous watch, even while the Imperials are dealing with us. But, under the new plan, they won't pay any attention to your transport until and unless it presents itself as a threat."

"Colonel Baden has a point, General," interjected Sooli. "And, if nothing else, we can avoid having it tracked back to us until after we are well out of the system. In fact, we can even do a double layer transponder for the transport. If the top layer fails, it will show it as being a pirate ship and not a New Republic, and that's only if the top layer fails."

Nelson frowned as he looked over the new plan and shook his head. "I don't like it. I still say it puts too much risk on my team. But," he said with his frown giving way to a wary grin, "I suppose it is better than the original plan. Okay, what else needs to be worked on?"

"Well, sir," started Chris, "we've come up with a suggestion." He looked around to the rest of the group before continuing. "Even though Intelligence says that there are no starships providing a guard, the idea of leaving such a planet that's holding the good doctor, even if it is supposed to be under the radar, without some sort of capital defense would be unwise. We've speculated that there will be at least one or two Corvettes of the standard variety, perhaps even modified Corvettes in orbit. The most likely positions where they would be stationed would be along the equator at opposite locations."

"Hmmm… makes sense, I suppose," Nelson acknowledged. "However, if I were going to reinforce with a couple of 'vettes, I'd also make sure there were some 'unofficial' reserve fighter forces in the area that could drop a surprise on any advancing force."

"We agree, sir. However, we have no way of knowing from which direction such a force would come,. So, we can only hope to…if you'll pardon the expression…'wing it' on through," Chris replied a little sheepishly.

Nelson frowned. "That doesn't fill me with confidence, Lieutenant."

"It's the best we can do, sir, based on the information that we have," replied Rob before Chris could get a word in. "If we could delay the mission until we were able to obtain more concrete information…"

Nelson cut him off in mid sentence. "That's impossible! We have no way of knowing when they'll move him again! This is the best chance we're going to have at grabbing the doctor."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with the general on this one, Colonel Baden," said Sooli. Rob turned to look at her with a look of unbelief and betrayal. She shrugged her shoulders in an apologetic expression and began explaining. "The capture and subsequent debriefing of Bevel Lemelisk would be a huge Intelligence boon to the New Republic. Imagine all the data we could obtain from just one afternoon of simple question-and-answer."

"I understand that fully, Captain, but I also believe it to be secondary to the prospect of casualties that is likely to occur due to sketchy information." He shook his head slightly. "I don't like it,; but I'll do it all the same. I just hope that the Force is kind that day."

"Very well," said Nelson clasping both of his hands together and placing them on the podium's holo-projector. "If there is nothing else?"

"When do we leave?"

"Two days, Colonel."

"Well, then, we better get to simming. Captain, please see about getting those transponders for us."

[The Fishtank, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 2228 Hours]

Chelsey plopped down in her normal chair and let her head fall to the table in front of her, her helmet bouncing against the hard surface.

"Rough day?" a male voice asked.

Chelsey opened her eyes and looked up to see Dargon polishing an empty glass with a cloth standing over her. "Yes," she answered.

"Fizzy, then, to cheer you up?"

"No. Nothing that produces a stimulus. I need something that will put me to sleep… and fast."

"I have something big and heavy to hit you in the head with."

"I'll take two."

Dargon just scoffed and walked away, leaving Chelsey to her own devices. It wasn't long until the noise level of the lounge began to rise as several of the other pilots from Red Squadron filed in. She felt a couple of heavy thuds vibrate through her helmet as two of her fellows pilots sat down at her table. Without looking up she knew immediately who they were and gave a sigh. "What do you want?"

"Well," said her brother, "since we were unsure that we would ever have another chance, we wanted to see what an executive officer, after her very first day of duty, looked like. Isn't that right, sir?"

"Oh, quite right indeed, Officer Maxfield," came the deadpan voice of Rob. "After all, one must know what kind of stress she'll be able to take on a regular basis."

"You're supposed to be on my side, you know," she said as she pointed a finger in the direction from which came Rob's voice without even picking up her head off of the table. "I wouldn't be in this mess if it hadn't been for you."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't be in this mess if Ranger hadn't decided to go play teacher. So we all have our problems. Anyways, how'd Flight Three do?"

"Better than they did with the initial mission specs, but, even still, it's going to be hard to play a rag-tag bunch of pirates when we're a state-of-the-art military combat unit. After all, we have training and discipline on our side."

The loud sound of a table being broken caught their attention and Chelsey shot up and turned around in time to see Jamie Wetherill and Chris Layne continue a very physical argument over the best way to destroy a TIE Interceptor.

"Yeah," said Rob in his deadpan voice, "I can see how pretending to be an undisciplined bunch of oafs is going to be a problem for us." He gave a low growl and stood from his chair. "Excuse me a moment," he commented as he walked towards the brawl.

"Ah, the peace and quiet of a pilot's life," said Chad. Turning his attention back to his sister, he changed the subject. "So, how's it going?"

Chelsey just gave a shrug and almost slumped in her chair again. "All those times I made fun of Ranger for how serious he took his job, and how much…psychotic fun he used to have in torturing his trainees, makes me feel like a nerf. I never gave him enough credit for what he had to put up with, all just so he could help maintain the best pilots possible in the unit." She looked up at her brother and gave a small, tired smile. "I just don't know how he was able to do it without going insane. I've only been doing it for a day and I'm already exhausted beyond what I thought was capable."

"It's always very tiresome when you first start out; it's because you're not yet used to whatever it is you're doing. Take for instance being a pilot; when you first start, you're unable to do the simplest maneuver, but after awhile you can do barrel-rolls and corkscrews without a thought." He reached over and patted his sister on the shoulder. "If it means anything, I think you're doing a fine job."

"Thanks." She turned around and looked at Rob as he was doing his best to keep the two Red pilots from slapping each other around. This apparently wasn't lost to Chad as she heard him give a low scoff under his breath.

"You needn't worry about him; he might be a little too much by-the-book for a pilot, and is only a half-way decent shot, but he's devoted more to the cause of the New Republic than anyone else I know."

She turned and looked at him with a wry grin. "Oh, if only you knew just how devoted he really is, it would send chills down your spine." She shook her head at his quizzical expression. "You don't want to know, trust me. And in any event, I'm not so much worried about him as I am about the others around him. He's quite a bit young to be the commander of a fighter squadron, and that makes other pilots—especially those that are older than he—a bit wary of his authority."

"Need I remind you that our own former pilot, Luke Skywalker, was only twenty-three when he took command of a fighter unit? Not to mention Wedge Antilles. Being a pilot is, more so than not, for the young." He grinned at her, a wide, toothy grin. "Besides, Biggs might be many things, but he's no wet-behind-the-ears rookie; if they put him in charge it's because he deserves it." He frowned slightly for a moment and looked at his sister. "However, I still don't understand why they didn't promote you. Surely your record was just as good as his, if not more so."

"There are a few… individuals within the upper echelon of Starfighter Command that believes me to be a bit of a problem concerning my family situation, especially how I went about trying to rescue our mother." She shook her head slightly when Chad looked like he was about to speak again, silencing him before he had a chance to voice what would obviously be a great amount of displeasure at what she just stated. "Personally, I don't mind being the number two pilot in a unit; I don't think I'm quite ready to be in complete command of a bunch of people. For one thing, it's sure to bring about a great deal more stress, and if I'm getting tired just doing today's work as the XO, I don't even want to imagine how tired Rob is."

"I'm not tired," said Rob from behind her as he walked around to his seat and plopped down. "I'm utterly exhausted and ready to collapse, but I'm not tired. Chelsey, make sure you put Layne and Wetherill both down as pulling the graveyard shift on patrols for the next week, and just for the fun of it, make sure you schedule an interception exercise during the third night, just to keep them on their toes."

"Rob, you're turning into a clone of Ranger."

The older pilot smiled brightly at her. "Why, thank you, that's one of the meanest things anyone's ever told me lately."

Chelsey just shook her head and let it fall back to the table again, the vibrating thud of her helmet ringing in her ear a little. "When do we hit blackness for this little excursion?"

Rob frowned, his demeanor returning to the usual stoic expression he had held throughout his time in Red. "In two days, so we don't have a lot of time to work out the kinks." He looked past her and gave a nod in the direction of most of the other congregating Reds. "Not to mention that it's going to take a bit of work not to completely blow our cover story."

"Are you saying that you don't think the Reds can inpersonante a group of rowdy pirates?"

"Oh, I know they can, I just don't think a group of rowdy pirates are quite as bad as we are when we let go of the discipline."

Chelsey cleared her throat and smiled up at Dargon as he placed a glass of one of her fizzies in the table in front of her. She took a huge swig of it and placed it back on the table. "Ahh! Nothing hits the spot better than a fizzy!"

"You just like them because of the colors they come in; I bet if they came in solid black you wouldn't be ordering any," commented her brother with a grin.

"I'm not that much of a color enthusiast."

"Yes you are," quipped Rob. "When I first mentioned the idea of impersonating pirates, you eyes bulged out of your head, because you knew that the colors of that particular pirate group was a bright orange with neon yellow. You practically jumped at the chance to have your X-wing repainted in those colors. In fact, I bet you spent some part of the day down on the flight deck personally painting your craft; am I right?"

Chelsey lowered her gaze a little and tried desperately not to look like a guilty Ewok. "Only the fuselage…" Rob and Chad just laughed and she couldn't help but eventually join in, her face still a little red with embarrassment. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I'm going to get both of you, I swear it."

"Ah, good," said Chad, "she's already swearing things. This is turning out to be a good deal."

"I hate to break up the fun," said a voice from behind Chelsey and she quickly spun to see the magenta-skinned figure of Sooli standing just past her. "But, I thought you'd like to know that we were able to get exactly twelve false transponders based on the pirates' statistics. Pappy and the other technicians are already installing them into you X-wings."

"Ah, excellent," replied Rob. "That was fast work. Thank you, Captain."

Sooli gave a slight smile in his direction and then turned on her heels, Chelsey watching her walk away. She then looked over at Rob and gave him a stare that would melt the polar icecaps on Coruscant.

"What?" he asked her.

"I don't see how it is you do it."

"Do what?"

"Oh, come off it, Rob, you know that Sooli has a thing for you. Didn't the two of you go out on some date while we were on leave?"

Rob just gave a smirk and leaned back in his chair a little. "That, uh… that's a little something that's complicated. I'm not interested in her; there's someone I'm already interested in–as you well know–and I believe there's someone else who's interested in her, and I'm not one to get in the way." He gave a frown and looked at Chelsey. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Oooooooh, yeah!" said Chad next to him.

Chelsey giggled and shook her head, downing the rest of her fizzie. "Well, boys, it's been great fun, but I've got to get some rest if I want to be of any use tomorrow." She grinned at Rob. "With your permission, of course, sir."

"Oh, knock it off. Go on."

She saluted with a smile. "Yes, sir!" She turned on her heels and walked out of the Fishtank and headed in the direction of her quarters.

[Rob Baden's X-wing, New Republic Space, Anaxes System, 0921 Hours]

Rob throttled forward out of the hanger bay and took up a stationary position just short of the hyperspace vector on his plotted course. He looked to his right and left and took note of the other X-wings taking up a parallel position relative to him. He watched the combined might of most of the New Republic's Third Fleet as they guarded the Anaxes Shipyards, a few of them undergoing repairs from the battles to take the system. His gaze fell on the blue and green planet of Anaxes Prime, the terminus hanging just below the horizon as the local star began to shine on newly-occupied New Republic ground base. He missed the feeling of having ground beneath his feet; his last leave was the better part of a year ago on Mon Calamari, and that was short-lived. He let out a sigh and returned his gaze to the front view. Tapping his headset microphone, he cleared his throat and spoke the words he never thought himself saying. "Leader to Squadron, all Reds report in."

"Red Three, standing by."

"Red Four, ready to go."

"Red Six, in the green."

"Red Seven, all systems ready."

"Red Eight, operational."

"Red Ten, eager to get going."

"Red Eleven, all systems check out."

"Red Twelve, no problems here."

"Red Thirteen, able."

"Red Fourteen, ready, sir."

"Red Seventeen, ready."

Rob adjusted his communications to the main tactical feed and cleared his throat again. "Operations Command, this is Red Leader, we're ready for mission start."

"Acknowledged, Leader," came the voice of Nelson with several grunts in the background. "We're about to head out to the transit point; wait ten minutes and then follow."

"Understood, Operations Command, and good luck." Rob watched as the Gamma-class Assault Transport went to lightspeed and he set the timer on the mission chronometer. He then clicked off the main tactical channel and adjusted his communications to read in on the squadron frequency. "Okay, Reds, we'll be heading out in ten minutes," he said as he noticed the transport craft carrying Nelson and his team entering hyperspace. "Make sure you stick to your assigned groups, and don't forget to act like a bunch of pirates wanting a haul of riches and the like. Red Fourteen, this is your first mission, so be sure to take your cues from you wingmate."

Travis responded with a firm, "yes, sir."

Rob looked to his right and was almost blinded by the bright orange and neon yellow of Chris' starfighter. "Remember, Twelve," he said into the microphone, "once the mission's over, the colors are returning to the standard red."

"Awwww,"came the voice of Chelsey, "you're no fun at all, Leader."

"I never claimed to be." He checked his chronometer and watched as it ticked past nine minutes in. "Okay, people, prepare for to jump to hyperspace."

"May the Force be with us," said Jamie.

"It is," remarked Mark Hagues.

Rob quickly switched his communications over to a private channel and spoke once. "Stand by for signal. Out." He hit the transmit button and the message sped through space at a speed greater than that of lightspeed. He then flipped his communications back to the squadron frequency and clicked it on as he thumbed the hyperdrive button. "Here we go; jump!"

The stars bled into long lines and a white tunnel encompassed the X-wing. Rob just gave a sigh and leaned back in his seat; the trip would take a little while, so he relaxed for the first time since he took stewardship of the unit. Force, what have I gotten myself into?

[Kir Jaxon's TIE Fighter, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1137 Hours]

Jaxon gave a bored sigh, the large black helmet and life support equipment muffling the sound. "Join the Empire," I said, "see and protect the galaxy." Bah, I haven't moved from this station since I graduated from the Academy. He briefly smiled as he thought about his first night planetside. At lease I found a beautiful and charming woman, even if she is naive. I still can't believe she agreed to marry me

"Zeta Three, report in," came a voice in his headset.

"Zeta Three, here, nothing to report–no, wait a second." He looked down at his sensors and noticed a large blip appearing in the hyperspace traffic lane. "I've got a new contact entering the system, I'm going to check it out." He switched his communications over to the civilian frequency assigned to the traffic lane. "Attention unidentified vessel, this is Esseles Imperial Customs, please state your intentions."

"Customs, this is the Imperial assault transport Sierra seeking assistance. We were attacked by pirates and our escorts were destroyed; we request security while we undergo some repairs."

Jaxon ran the ID through the link to the central computer on the station and was satisfied when it came back as being genuine. "Alright, Sierra, change course to heading Two-Two-Oh Mark Five and standby for reentry instructions." He switched back over to the military channel. "Customs Control, an assault transport, the Sierra, has been cleared to enter the atmosphere for some minor repairs. Please inform the garrison spaceport."

"Acknowledged, Zeta Three, continue your patrol."

Suuuuure, like I'm going to see any action out here. Why couldn't I have been posted to some place like Kuat or even Imperial Center; they deal with customs problems all the time, even some Rebels, but nooooooooo, I have to be stuck out here where there's only a pitiful pirate group.

Jaxon was jilted from his thoughts as his sensors let off an alarm. He looked down and noticed twelve blips appear on his monitors in the standard "yellow" for unknown enemies. Frowning, he selected one and brought up the profile of an X-wing painted in bright orange and neon yellow, the markings of the local pirate group, the Badlanders. "Control, we've got a problem here."

"We see them, Zeta Three, hang on, we're launching the rest of Zeta Squadron."

"Tell them to hurry up, please, I've got a date with my wife-to-be tonight, and I don't want to be late." Jaxon brought his fighter around to head straight on towards the incoming fighters and then noticed that one of them had fired off a proton torpedo. He ran an intercept course check to see where the warhead was headed for and then gave a small gasp when he saw that it was coming straight at him. You know, he thought, perhaps a lack of action wasn't quite so bad..."

A moment later darkness engulfed him.

[Chris Layne's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1152 Hours]

"One Imp is down for the count, Boss!" shouted Chris into his headset, trying his best to act like some rowdy pirate instead of a New Republic pilot. Normally they'd be talking in code instead of in the "open" like they were now, but in order for their deception to look genuine they had to transmit like the Badlanders did. "But better look out, there's more coming out of that Golan!"

"Okay, you sorry sack of Neks, we're going to have to make this a quick job." Rob's sounded quite unusual with the fake gruff accent he was giving. "Anyone catch where that transport went to?"

"They're too far ahead of us, Boss," came Sazril's voice. "It's already above the pole and looks to be entering the atmosphere. Guess we can kiss that cargo goodbye."

"Well, let's mop up these Imp goons, then. Anytime we can inflict a little damage on these guys is a good thing, just try not to get yourselves killed. Those X-wings cost me a fortune!"

Chris just grinned and brought his X-wing alongside Rob's in a loose formation. He scanned the monitors on his CMD and gave a slight frown. That's strange; I don't see any indications of a starship in the area. I was certain that there would be at least one standard Corvette in the system. This doesn't make any sense.

He switched his targeting over to the Sierra's profile and watched as it entered the planet's troposphere, changing course and heading for the facility that Intelligence said was holding Dr. Lemelisk. Watch your back, Talons. "Hey, Boss, that transport's within the planetary field now, there's no way we can get to it," said Chris in his attempt to give Rob some information pertaining to the mission while still under the guise of being a pirate. "You want I should try to get him anyways? I'm always up for some fun."

"No way, you'll end up tearing apart that X-wing! If I can avoid it, I want to not use Uglies."

"Gotcha, Boss." Chris targeted the nearest TIE and noticed it was still a good bit away from interception range. He took the time to initiate a program that he had thought of for the mission so that the flight leaders and he could keep in contact with one another without giving away their identities. Hitting a few switches on the control panel, his astromech began transmitting a tight-beam text-based communication to Rob's X-wing in front of him. "Corvettes are not present in system. Unsure of where they are. Instructions?"

A moment passed by and then text began to scroll on the droid-translation monitor. "Continue attack. Maintain cover. Keep a look out."

Chris gave a sigh and continued his monitoring of the TIE. Arming his lasers and setting them for dual fire mode, he broke off from the formation and corkscrewed towards the Imperial fighter, firing hastily as the ship neared the one klick mark. "Die you rabid Imperial scum. The quicker you die, the richer I become!"

The constant barrage of lasers took their toll upon the enemy fighter and within a matter of seconds the panels snapped off the circular cockpit and spun into space. A half a second later the cockpit exploded and Chris could swear he saw the silhouette of the pilot being thrown from his seat before being consumed by a fireball.

He targeted the nearest surviving fighter and moved in to take it on like the first one, but still he eyed the monitors to see if there was any sign of a Corvette. He sighed again and returned his concentration to the target in front of him. This isn't right, something's wrong.

[Troop Hold, Sierra, Esseles System, 1208 Hours]

Jav Nelson checked the powerpack of his rifle as he walked up and down the troop hold, surveying his troops. He'd been in a few engagements since he took over command from his predecessor, most notably the assault on Anaxes Prime, but even then he was still under the overall command of General Ivlen. This was the first time he had the opportunity to be in command of his own operation.

And what and operation, too, the chance to abduct one of the greatest scientific minds in the galaxy

"General," came the voice of the pilot over the intercom, "we've just touched down in front of the facility, sir. So far we've seen no evidence of any type of security."

Nelson hit a button on the wall. "Don't get cocky, Lieutenant. Even if it is a facility 'under the radar,' there's still going to be some sort of security. Keep an eye out while we make our extraction."

"Sir!"

Nelson released the button and clicked the safety off his rifle. "Alright! Listen up! We'll be doing this in teams of six. Team One, we'll be moving up the primary entrance. Team Two, you'll make your way down the secondary entrance and make sure there's nothing there to flank us. Team Three, you'll move in behind us in the primary entrance to act as reserve unit. Team Four, you'll remain here to watch out backs." He held his hand over the release button of the ramp and looked back at his soldiers for a moment. "Remember, this is an extraction, not an assault. Don't go bloodthirsty on me. Let's move out!"

He hit the release button and practically ran down the ramp as it descended. The rest of his team moved in behind him, silently covering his actions as he headed towards the main door of the facility. He scanned the area with his night vision goggles, but still didn't see any type of security for the facility. This does not look good...

He stopped at the door and waited for a moment for the rest of his team to catch up. For a half a second he contemplated pulling everyone back as he was unsure of just what they were getting into, but he knew that the New Republic desperately needed to get their hands on that scientist. I just hope this isn't some sort of farce.

He kicked in the door and immediately discovered three Stormtroopers guarding a stairwell. That must be the way to the good doctor. He fired off two shots, quickly killing one of the guards while the rest of his team took care of the other too. "Well, I guess we're no longer covert, but it had to be done. Okay, Team One, stay sharp, we don't want to have any surprises pop up behind us."

He moved forward, sweeping wide as he did so, the rest of his team moving up close behind him. When he got to the stairs he looked up and almost had his head taken off by a blaster bolt. He ducked quickly and then opened up with his rifle, tearing apart the white armor of the Stormtrooper in the stairwell. He looked back at his team and gave the hand single for them to follow as he started up the stairs cautiously.

When they got to the second floor they peered around the corner and saw four guards and an Army officer standing in front of a heavily reinforced steel door. There it is, he thought to himself, and took up a position where he could get a good bead on the officer. He then motioned to four of the other soldiers to take out the guards while the sixth soldier maintained a cover for their backs. He turned back to his rifle and sighted in on the officer, his finger squeezing the trigger slightly, and then a red bolt shot out and hit the man in olive green square in the throat. A half a second later, the others opened fire and the Stormtroopers fell in succession while the officer was still gasping. Nelson fired another shot and watched as the officer fell onto his back in a loud "thud."

He quickly advanced on the door and looked around for the controls. When he spotted it he motioned to his second-in-command to get to work on them. He then tapped his short-range headset comm and whispered into it. "All teams, give me a report status."

"Team Two here, sir, we're not seeing anything along the secondary entrance. We're on the second floor and ready to back you up if needed."

"Team Three here, we're at the bottom of the stairwell and have it secured.

"Team Four here, General, the transport's under heavy guard and we've been unable to identify any potential threats. Wait... I see something."

Nelson looked at his XO and asked, "how much longer? We might have a situation."

"Almost there, sir."

He nodded and then turned his attention back to his headset. "Team Four, what is it that you see? Can you describe it?"

"I'm not sure, sir, it appears to be some sort of hovering vehicle...wait...wait...Oh, Force! That's... That's a Chariot LAV! Everyone take cover! Is that some sort of heavy weapons platform on it's top?! Watch out, it's going to fire! General, we're in big–"

Static crackled to life as the transmission seemed to be cut short. "Team Four, come in. Team Four!" Nelson frowned and tried his best to calm down. "Sierra Command, this is Talon Leader, what is your status?" Silence. "Repeat, what is your status, Sierra?" He still couldn't get a response from anyone at the LZ and was starting to panic until he remembered that he had a backup team at the bottom of the stairwell. "Team Three, can you find out what happened to the LZ?"

A few moments went by and then Captain Izez responded, almost shouting to be overheard. "Sir! The transport's toast, and Team Four is gone, in the permanent sense. Troops from the LAV are heading this way with a purpose, sir, and we just heard a door behind the stairwell open up!"

Nelson's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. "Team Two, your status?"

"A couple of squads of Stormies are coming out the rear entrance, sir, heading straight for us. So far we've been holding our own, but this situation is turning right ugly."

He spun around quickly and reached for the door controls. "Don't open it!"

But it was too late; the heavy steel door started to rise and Nelson came face to face with a reinforced squad of Stormtroopers and two Army officers, all with their weapons drawn and an E-Web cannon traversing to taking aim at the Republic troops. The taller of the two officers grinned and spoke, his blaster trained right on Nelson's head. "So, have you come to find the good doctor? I'm afraid you're out of luck. Now, would you be so kind as to surrender?"

Nelson just grinned back at him and eyed the two soldiers to his left. They gave him a slight nod to indicate they understood and then Nelson jumped into a backwards roll, leveling out just behind the door controls. He opened fire and immediately took out the tall officer while the rest of his team brought their own weapons to bear on the Imperials. Three of his teammates were cut to pieces at once, and Nelson cursed under his breath as he watched them die, but it bought the others enough time to find suitable cover around the door entrance. He pulled out his external comlink and flicked it on, knowing that this transmission would be heard by friend and foe alike. "Talon Leader to Red Leader, we've got a major problem here!"

[Rob Baden's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1232 Hours]

Rob frowned at the voice of General Nelson breaking mission protocol, but knew that he wouldn't have done so without good reason. Might as well add to the situation. "This is Red Leader, what's the problem, Talon Leader?" He fired a quad set of lasers into the hull of a TIE, shredding it to tiny little bits as he listened carefully for the response.

His headset was filled with background noise of blasters being fired sporadically, and he could swear he could hear the output of an E-Web cannon. "Mission's blown, Colonel!" screamed Nelson's voice. "It's a trap; our target's not even here, it was a lure!"

"Uh, Lead?" came the voice of Chris Layne.

"Not now, Six."

"Sir, it's important."

"Make it quick."

"Um, you know those Corvettes that I was unable to locate earlier? Well, I found them."

Rob cycled through his CMD targeting system until he was able to pull up the profile of a Corvette…a Modified Corvette. And instead of there being just two, like Chris had speculated in the mission planning, there was a total of six, all of them Modified Corvettes, coming in from six different directions in order to pin the Reds against the Golan defense platform. "We're in trouble," he whispered under his breath. His new R2 unit—"Twitch," as she was known around the flight techs—hooted and whistled. Rob looked at the translation monitor and frowned as the report of three TIE Fighter squadrons just entered the battle, two from the Corvettes and one from the planet. "Oh yeah, we're in trouble. Talon Leader, what's your status?"

"We're pinned down! They just blew up our transport and I've lost a third of my team from it. We're unable to get out of here, Colonel. I'm ordering you to get out of here and make it back to the Fleet before you end up being trapped here as well."

Rob just gave a sideways grin and hit a couple of buttons on his communications console. "I'm sorry, General, you're breaking up. Can you repeat what you just said?"

"Colonel! You better get out of here, now! That's an order!"

Rob just shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm unable to read you. Must be some kind of interference that the Imps are providing. I'm going to have to break off, now, sir, as a swarm of TIEs just entered the mix. I'll get back in touch with you as soon as I can get past the interference, sir. Red Leader, out." He changed the frequency to the squadron-only setting and cleared his throat. "Okay, Reds, listen up. We've been ordered out of the battle by the mission commander; however, I have no intention of abandoning our comrades down there, and if you call yourself a Red then I expect you to have the same feeling. So, if there's going to be anyone who wants to voice their disagreement with this decision, now's the time, because I won't discuss it again."

There was a long period of quiet, the only sound permeating being that of the various systems of his CMD. He waited about five more seconds and then took in a deep breath. "Okay. Here's the situation; the who thing was a setup from the get-go, and the boys in black have just lost a third of their number as well as their transport. They're also pinned down in the research facility, so they're pretty much trapped down there."

"Lead," cam the voice of Mark, "I hate to be the person to point out the obvious, but how are we going to get them out of there? We don't exactly have a transport craft with us."

"Oh, but we do." He hit the transmission circuit on his console and spoke into his headset again. "This is Leader. Status is a 'Go;' repeat: status is a 'Go.'" He depressed the circuit and then returned to the conversation of the Reds. "I have arranged for a little surprise, on the off chance that something like this happened. It'll be here shortly, but in the meantime, I suggest we regroup at Point Zero One Zero to deal with the new situation. Form into flights, and shed the pirate gig, they're not buying it anymore. Flight One, you're on me."

[Imperial Research Facility, Ulivesville, Esseles System, 1241 Hours]

"Red Leader! RED LEADER! Come in, damn you, come in!" Nelson cursed loudly as he shoved the comlink back into his pocket, gripping the rifle tightly as he fired off another shot at the group of Stormtroopers making their way to his position. "We're in a bit of trouble here, Alix," he screamed to his second in command.

The Twi'lek man gave a short nod in confirmation and let loose with his twin blaster carbines, firing a volley of death into the center mass of a trooper. "What's the deal with flyboy?"

"He's trying to be a hero, for all the good it'll do him. We're stuck down here, and he's just going to throw his life away."

"Guess you can't fault him for wanting to try, sir." He double-tapped an officer in the head, sending him backwards into a group of stormtroopers. "I can't say I'd be unhappy if he did find a way to get us out of here; I'd like to survive another Heat Storm."

"Remind me never to visit Ryloth." He pumped another set of lasers into the advancing form of Imperials and then ducked behind the bulkhead as they returned fire. "If we get out of this, I'm going to have a long talk with Intelligence about just what constitutes a 'reliable' source."

"The key word in that sentence being 'if,' sir. We're not exactly in a situation that bodes well for us."

"Well, if commander newbie has something up his sleeve, I'll be happy, but I'm still going to bust him for disobeying me."

"You're all heart, sir."

[Chris Layne's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1245 Hours]

Chris maneuvered his X-wing along the wake of Rob's movements, taking care to keep on him like a good wingmate should, but it was difficult as Rob weaved and jinked while they made their attack run on one of the Corvettes. Normally, in a situation such as this, stand-off tactics worked best—staying well out of range of the turrets of the ship while launching warheads—but because of how close the Corvettes were crowding the Reds it was impossible to be out of range of one without being in range of at least two others. And because of the intensity of the defensive fire, it was near-to-impossible to launch the torpedoes unless they were practically on top of the starships.

"Arm torpedoes," came Rob's voice.

Chris flicked his targeting computer over to warheads and held his thumb over the firing button. He selected the upper starboard quarter of the engine block and watched as the locking sequence changed from yellow to a solid red. "I've got tone."

"Fire!"

Chris hit the trigger and four pairs of warheads from all of Flight One streaked towards the bulky frame of the starship. Rob broke off his run and Chris quickly followed, his sensors indicating that both Bill Doellefeld and David Fate followed suit. A moment later his computer reported the destruction of one of Corvette they were attacking and Chris couldn't help but give a cheer. "Woohoo!"

"Can the celebration, six, we've still got work to do."

"Understood, Lead, but, uh, how are we going to get our guys off the planet?"

Chris' tactical computer reported that three new contacts had left hyperspace and were coming in on an approach vector to the planet, plowing through the gaping hole that Flight One had just opened up. Chris brought up the profiles of the new arrivals and was slightly shocked to see the outline of two Z-95T Headhunters and a CEC YT-2400.

"There's your answer, Six," said Rob. There was a pause and then Rob spoke again over the squadron frequency. "Red Alpha, Red Beta, report status."

The unmistakable voice of Matthew Benfall came back over the headset. "Alpha here, we're ready for assistance, sir."

"Beta likewise ready, sir," came the voice of Thak Spek'lya. "I'm excited! I haven't seen action since the Battle of Chandrila!"

"Well, try not to let it get to your head, boys, you're still trainees. Red Leader to Pride of Alderaan, report your status, Captain."

Chris received yet another surprise when the soothing, almost enchanting voice of Sooli Kitz sounded in his ear. "This is the Pride, Red Leader, we're sitting pretty and ready to give you some support. I'm afraid, however, that the missile launchers are still giving us some problems."

"That doesn't surprise me, I've been having some problems with it last time I tried to repair it. Oh well, don't use it unless you have to."

"Understood, Leader."

"Okay, Reds, our support is here. I want all craft to provide cover for that transport as it heads in to pick up those GroPos. Reds Alpha and Beta as well as Flight One will provide atmospheric escort once the Pride descends to the planet. The rest of you, engage those TIEs and, if possible, the Corvettes, but don't take any unnecessary risks. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" said the pilots in unison.

"Okay, then. Six, we're up; watch my tail.

Chris banked hard left as he followed Rob while the pilot corkscrewed briefly towards the waiting transport vessel. He wish he had known about the surprise that Rob had arranged, especially at the outset of the mission planning, as he would have been able to effectively make a better contingency for the situation rather than what had actually happened. He knew that if he had been given all the information he would have been able to make a better mission plan.

He shook his head as he rolled right, taking up an escort position above and in front of the Corellian transport. No; even if I did know about the backup that Rob had arranged, that still wouldn't have accounted for the ambush that we walked into. No amount of mission planning could have foreseen that eventuality, or at least to the extent that it was.

He sighed inwardly and cycled through the targets on his CMD until he came upon four TIEs that were angling in towards the Pride. "Lead, I've got a flight of eyes coming in at two o'clock high at nine klicks out, straight for our little transport."

"I see them, Six. Maintain escort formation until I say otherwise. Wait until they're within one point five klicks range and then bank hard out of the line of fire. Sooli, make sure you get a couple those techs to the turrets, as this is too much of a precision job to be left to the auto-targeting computer."

"They're already in place, Rob."

Chris kept an eye on the fighters as they came closer and closer to the group of seven New Republic ships. He watched with interest as the distance counter rolled down until it was just under two klicks, and then he let out a slow breath and held it just as the counter changed to two point five. "Hit it!" he yelled into his headset as he banked hard out of the line of fire, red streaks of lasers scorching past him at incredible speed. He looked out his side viewport and watched as they impacted the oncoming TIEs dead on. Moments later the flight of four TIE Fighters were turned into a flight of floating debris clouds.

"Course is clear…for the time being, Lead."

"Good, then let's get going."

[Imperial Research Facility, Ulivesville, Esseles System, 1301 Hours]

Nelson took a thermal detonator off of his belt and hit the switch, tossing it around the corner. A moment later he heard several renditions of "run!" and "look out!" before a small explosion caused several of those panicked cries to turn into agony-induced ones. "So much for being 'united in the face of Rebel scum!'"

"Red Leader to Talon Leader, come in, sir."

Nelson frowned and pulled out his comlink, switching it on. "Colonel, just what the hell are you still doing here? Get out of here now, that's an order!"

"I'm sorry, sir, you're still breaking up," came Baden's voice, with what Nelson could only guess was slight humor. "Since I can't be sure if you're receiving or not, I hope you get this. We have a secondary transport craft heading for your location; I advise you to make your way to the roof with all due haste, sir, as that location is not secure and we cannot keep the transport on the ground indefinitely." There was a slight pause and then Baden started talking again. "Once again, I'm unsure if you're getting this, but I hope you're still alive down there, as I don't want to face a court martial for nothing."

"Colonel," said Nelson with a lopsided grin, "when I get out of here we're going to have a long talk about just what 'chain of command' means."

"Not sure I got that right, sir, you said something about giving me a medal?"

Nelson couldn't help but laugh at that and just shook his head as he shot off another volley of blaster fire. "Okay, Colonel, we'll talk about it later. We'll make our way to the roof."

"Understood, sir, Red Leader out."

Nelson pocketed his comlink again and held his rifle tighter. He then tapped his short-range headset microphone to activate it. "Okay, Talons, heads up. I want all surviving teams to make for the roof; I say again, all surviving teams make for the roof. We've got a ship coming in for an extraction and we don't want to keep them waiting if we can help it. All teams, report number status; Team one is at two members."

"This is Team Two," came the voice of Lieutenant Jonsone, "we're at five members."

"Team Three here, sir," came the voice of someone Nelson didn't recognize. Their leader must have gotten hit. "It's, uh, it's just me, sir, I'm all that's left."

Nelson cursed silently under his breath. He had gone in with twenty-four highly trained soldiers, and he had a total of eight left. "Okay, Team Three… where are you?"

"I'm in the central stairwell, sir, between the first and second floors. So far I've been able to evade pursuit, but I doubt that's going to continue for much longer."

"Okay, stay there, Team One is on it's way and should be at your location within ten minutes. Try to stay hidden until we're there; don't be a hero."

"Yes, sir."

"Team Two, head for the roof, we'll be there shortly."

"Sir."

Nelson tapped his headset microphone off and then looked over at Alix, the only other surviving member of his team. "Right now, that heat storm on Ryloth is looking like a big welcome compared to this situation."

"You'd never be able to survive, it, General, you're too soft," responded the Twi'lek with a toothy grin.

"You're going to pay for that remark, Colonel. Come on, let's get a move on." He stood up and peered around the corner that he had just thrown the thermal at. He didn't see anyone moving, but there were several white-armored bodies lying about. I hate to do this to anyone who might still be alive, he thought to himself as he took out another thermal and armed it, but I don't feel like dying in an ambush, even a poorly constructed one.

He tossed the thermal into the center of the bodies and ducked. A moment later his suspicions were confirmed when the explosion sounded followed by the screams of at least three people. He quickly leaped out from around the corner and moved in with his rifle in hand, Alix following half a meter behind. They stopped to confirm that there was no one left alive and moved on towards the stairwell. It didn't take them long to get there, and as soon as they were they immediately come face-to-face with a four-man team of Stormtroopers coming around a corner.

"Ah, sithspit!" He opened fire immediately and blanketed the hallway with red blaster fire. He took down two of the troopers, but the other two managed retreat around the corner before they could get hit.

"That corner," he whispered to Alix, "is the only way we can get access to the stairwell; we have to pull them out of there. Any ideas?"

"Just one."

His exec looked at him with a sad look and Nelson immediately knew what he had in mind. He didn't want to do it, as it put the young man in considerable danger, but it was the only way that they would be able to get to the roof. He tapped his microphone cleared his throat in a low whisper. "Team Three, this is Team One."

"Three-Five, here, sir," came the response of the young man he spoke to earlier.

"Three-Five, we're in a dire situation and we need your help. Can you hear blaster fire from the stairwell?"

"Affirmative, One-One, pretty heavy by the sounds of it."

"That's us you're hearing, Three-Five. We're pinned down by two Stormies who are guarding the bottom of the stairwell." Nelson almost winced when he said his next words. "We need you to do a pincer move and attack from behind, taking them by surprise; do you think you can hand it, Team Three?"

There was a long silence from the headset and Nelson was afraid that he had asked too much of the man on the other end. These men and women were trained to go into battle as a team of no less than two people, never to operate solo, and considering that Nelson did not recognize the man's voice meant that he was most likely relatively new to the outfit.

Then the other man spoke, slowly and nervously, but with courage. "Yes, sir, I'll take care of it. Three-Five, out."

Nelson looked to his exec and gave a slight nod. "We rush them as soon as that kid opens up; I don't want him dying if we can stop it."

"You got it, boss."

They waited for what seemed like an eternity, exchanging blaster fire with the two troopers around the corner. Then, almost as if a ferocious Rancor had gotten loose, the troopers began to scream and Nelson rushed forward, spraying bolt after bolt into the white armor in front of him. In a matter of moments there was three Republic Army soldiers, and two smoldering corpses.

He looked over to the younger man and gave a grin. "Good work, Team Three. And congratulations!"

"Sir?"

"You've just been promoted to Team One."

Despite the situation, the young smiled and snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir."

"Now, let's find our way to the roof."

[Rob Baden's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1326 Hours]

"Watch out for those towers!" screamed Rob as he flew his X-wing into the atmosphere alongside his ship, the Pride of Alderaan.

"I see them, I see them," came Sooli's response. "But they're not supposed to be there! Our analysis showed that Esseles didn't have any retractable defensive laser towers."

"Captain, I wouldn't talk about the reliability of Intelligence right now, if I were you." He gave a grin in the direction of the cockpit and also a thumbs-up before returning his focus on the situation around him. "All right, all flights give me a status check; Flight One is descending into the atmosphere."

"Flight Two is engaging one of the Corvettes," came Sazril's voice over Rob's headset.

"Flight Three is tied up in a womprat's nest of eyes, Lead; we could use some help."

"Understood, Twelve. Thirteen, when you're finished with your Corvette, head over to Twelve's location and see if you can't give them some assistance."

"I copy, Lead."

"Talon Leader to Red Leader."

"This is Red Leader, General, what's your status?"

"We've made it to the roof, Colonel, but the locals have seemed to catch wind of your plan; I've spotted at least a company of Stormtroopers moving towards the research facility; they'll no doubt he ascending the stairwell soon."

"We're almost to the building, sir," said Rob and he leveled out his descent, bringing the nose of the fighter up to avoid the reentry heat stress on the canopy. "Is there anyway you can slow them down?"

"We've planted some, uh, surprises along the stairwell, but that'll only keep them from ascending through the traditional fashion. I'm sure they have the ability to get an airspeeder up here. We know for sure they have one Chariot LAV, who's to say that they don't have something else?"

"I understand, sir. We'll be there as soon as we can. Red Leader, out."

"Lead, this is Twelve."

"Go ahead, Twelve."

"We could really use that help right about now, sir."

"Lead to Thirteen, what's your situation?"

"A squadron of TIEs decided that they would be helpful and defend the Corvette, Lead. We're up to our wingtips in eyes, and I don't see any way we can break free."

"Alpha, Beta, you're armed with concussion missiles, correct?"

"Affirmative, Sir," came Benfall's voice. "We weren't able to use the advanced models, however."

"That's okay. Maintain escort of the transport with Reds Ten and Eight; Six and I are going to engage those TIEs. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," came Spek'lya's response.

Rob rolled right and turned his fighter around, beginning his ascent towards space. They'll make fine additions to the unit, he thought to himself silently, if they ever get around to graduating the training courses.

[Chelsey Maxfield's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1340 Hours]

Chelsey pulled back hard on her flight stick and did a loop, trying to shake the TIE that was on her six, but the Imperial fighter followed her and matched her maneuvers with a precision that only a seasoned veteran could muster. She cursed herself slightly at having gotten herself into this position as she attempted to shake the TIE with a corkscrew barrel roll combination. "Four, where are you?"

"I'm having some trouble shaking this TIE on my tail!"

"Same here. You remember that maneuver they told us never to attempt? Let's do it."

"The kill exchange? That could get messy, I might end up hitting you."

"Well, there's a simple solution to that," said Chelsey as she brought her fighter around and headed towards Jamie's position.

"What's that?"

"Don't shoot me." She boosted her shields and upped her throttle as best she could, seeing Jamie's X-wing in the far distance. "If you do, I'll make you clean the refreshers… without any instruments."

"Ooooh, the evil is strong with this XO."

She smiled and leveled out her fighter so she could get a clear run at Jamie's. "On my first mark, head relative up while I head relative down, then quickly head relative down and fire at my TIE; this way you won't hit me."

"Your faith in me is overwhelming, Twelve. Here we go."

She moved closer and closer to the X-wing in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth between her cockpit view and the status of her shields. The TIE behind her seemed not to have caught on to what she was doing, and she hoped that the same was true for Jamie's pursuer.

Unfortunately, the Law of the Universe stated that if something can go wrong, it will.

As the two X-wings came within meters of one another, Chelsey yelled a "now!" into her headset and immediately broke hard downward, and then quickly turned her fighter back upward and began to line up her sights with the TIE in front of her…only to see that the fighter wasn't there. She quickly scanned her sensors and saw that it had seen through the trap and moved around to join up with the other TIE, both of which were now attacking Jamie's X-wing.

Cursing herself silently, she rolled to the right and looped around so she was coming in at the TIEs from behind, but even before she was able to get a lock on one of them, she knew she was too late. Several meters ahead, the two TIEs' lasers shredded their way through the hull plating of Jamie's X-wing and hit the engine core. "Jamie!"

"At least I didn't hit you," said Jamie briefly, and then half a second later his fighter blew apart as the engines overheated and imploded.

Chelsey watched the scattering debris field to see if Jamie had ejected before the blast, but she didn't see him. She knew that there was a small chance that he had ejected, and that due to him not being an electronic source he would not show up on her sensors, but she also knew that the chances of that occurring were very, very small. She had just lost her wingmate.

With an intense sense of vengeance, she hit the trigger and fired an endless array of red lasers into the solar panels of the first TIE, causing it to spine out of control. She then turned her attention to the second TIE and lined up her fighter with the Imperial vessel. She waited as it jinked and juked, just watching, and then fired a single shot, allowing it to pierce the ball cockpit and superheat the computer system, blowing up the fighter into an expanding cloud of debris.

"Lead, this is Twelve," she said with a broken voice.

A moment passed by before Rob's voice reverberated in her ears. "Go ahead."

"Sir," she said, trying to fight back a lump developing in her throat. "We've lost Four; no ejection detected."

There was a long period of silence over the communications channel, and she knew that everyone in the squadron had heard her. And they're all probably thinking the same thing; 'why twice within a week!?'

"Copy, Twelve," said Rob with a stone and cold voice. "Regroup and try and watch each other's backs. Don't let yourselves get cocky."

Chelsey fought back the urge to lash out at Rob for the way he sounded just then, but she knew that he was just doing his job. He had no desire to see people die anymore than she did, and in fact, she believed him to find it more hurtful than anything else. "Understood, Lead," she simply said. "Flight Three, form up on me, we're no longer going to be doing this with one-on-ones."

[Imperial Research Facility, Ulivesville, Esseles System, 1350 Hours]

Nelson moved along the rooftop and swept his weapon all around. He'd been doing the exact same thing for the past twenty minutes, waiting for the transport craft to come and pick up the remaining members of his unit, and it was starting to get to him, the impatience gnawing at his sense of duty. Where is that blasted ship?

As if the will of the universe had given him an answer, a large, circular-shaped vessel descended out of the skies and settled gently on the rooftop. The outline of it was unmistakable, and despite the fact that it was being escorted by two X-wings and two Z-95 Headhunter Mark Ts, the fact that it was a CEC YT-2400 astonished him. He sent a civilian transport ship?.

The landing ramp descended and Nelson recognized the woman standing at the door controls. "Come on!" she yelled in his direction. "We don't have a whole lot of time!"

Nelson jogged up to the ship, waving the rest of his team along. "Come on!" He looked back and saw the faint outline of a group of TIEs coming towards them. He took out his comlink and ran a search pattern to identify the nearest IFF beacon from one of the X-wings. When he selected one marked as "Red Ten" he clicked the comlink on and cleared his throat. "This is Talon Leader to Red Ten; you might want to check out the incoming starfighters off your port, flyboy."

"Copy that, General, we see them. We're moving to engage."

Nelson continued towards the transport while one of the X-wings and both of the Headhunters broke formation and headed towards the oncoming TIEs. He watched as much as he could before he made it to the ship; he immediately ran up the ramp and made his way to the cockpit, where Captain Kitz was in the pilot's seat. "Who's idea was this?" he asked as he settled himself into the co-pilot's seat.

"Colonel Baden's; he wanted a backup in case this turned out to be an ambush."

"So," he said as he ran a search pattern on the communications system, "who's ship is this?"

Kitz turned towards him and gave a huge grin. "Colonel Baden's."

"Everyone's aboard, Captain!" came the voice of someone from the back of the ship.

"Everyone hang on, we're getting out of here!" She rose the ship off the roof and swung it around, the winds from the open ramp sounding. She triggered a button and the ramp rose gently, a loud "clang" making its way throughout the ship as it sealed tightly.

"Ah, there we go!" commented Nelson as he patched the Red Squadron frequency into the console and let it run through the speakers of the cockpit.

"How'd you do that? I don't even know the coded frequency for the unit."

"I'm a communications specialist, Captain. I guess you didn't read up on me, eh?" He gave her a grin and then listened in as the pilots from Red talked about their various situations.

"Lead to Thirteen, we're moving in to engage that Corvette; stay focused on the TIEs."

"I copy that, Lead."

"I've got a fighter on me tight! Someone help me out here!"

"Calm down, Fourteen, help is on the way."

"Ten, where'd these TIEs come from?"

"I'm not sure, Alpha, but there's a whole flight of them."

"Ten, Beta here, they're not TIEs, but TIE Interceptors! Great, trying to take out a squint in this flying hunk of junk is suicide!"

"Arm concussion missiles, Beta, that'll tell them you're playing for keeps."

"Eight to Group, transport is up and on the way. Extraction complete."

"Copy that, Eight, we're moving back to join you; cover the transport."

Nelson looked out the window and saw in the distance a group of flashes, indicating there was a dogfight going on. "They seem to be getting closer," said Nelson to no one in particular.

"Are you afraid, sir?" asked Kitz. Nelson turned to her and she shook her head back at him. "I didn't mean that as an insult, sir, it's just that it seemed to be an unusual comment from a man who basically kills people for a living."

"I kill only if I have to, Captain, and you'd do well to remember that." He turned back to the viewport and watched as the dogfighting combatants came closer and closer. He watched as one of the Headhunters took a hit on it's port wing, causing it to spin a bit. "Uh oh, I think those Z-95s are going to be in trouble."

"Well, they're only trainees."

Nelson looked back at her with a look of horror on his face. "Trainees? Colonel Baden authorized the fielding of trainees!?"

"It's not as if we had a lot of choices, sir."

"Ahhh!"

Nelson turned his attention back to the viewport as he heard the speakers and looked out to see the expanding form of an explosion.

"This is Alpha! Beta just went down; repeat, Beta just went down! I think I detected the faint trace of a beacon, but I can't be positive. He was able to take out one of the TIEs, but two more are heading my way now!"

"Keep calm, Alpha, I'm on the way."

Nelson looked out the viewport and saw the X-wing moving towards the lone Headhunter that was being engaged by two TIE Interceptors. "Come on, Alpha," Nelson said, quietly cheering the pilot on. "Don't let those Imp Sithspits get the better of you."

The engagement was moving extremely close to the transport ship. About ten seconds later, the laser turrets of the ship opened fire on TIE Interceptors and scattered their formation, but not before one of the Imperial fighters was caught off-guard and exploded in a fiery ball of ion gases. Both the X-wing and the surviving Z-95T came alongside the transport in a standard escort pattern while the turrets continued to fend off the remaining three TIEs

"This is Pride to Red Leader," Nelson said into the microphone. "We're all aboard and outbound."

"Good to hear your voice, General. We'll rendezvous with you at point Zeta Nine. Red Leader, out."

Nelson grinned and turned to Kitz. "Well, it looks like we'll finally be able to get out of here."

As if in an answer to his statement, laser blasts started to hit the shields of the transport. At first they were slight and far in-between, but soon they started to pound the transport ship in an almost rhythmic fashion. Nelson looked through the viewport and saw one of the Headhunters moving forward to engage the oncoming Interceptors, as well as the ship's turret cannons spreading an array of defensive fire. The Headhunter engaged two of the fighters at point blank range, destroying one of them while the other one was able to use his comrade's sacrifice as a means for escape. He squinted in the direction of the Headhunter and thought he saw one of the solar panels from the first TIE hit the ship.

"Damn!" Nelson heard Matthew Benfall say over the squadron frequency. "My shields are out, must have been that impact from that TIE panel."

"Get back here, Cadet, we'll cover you."

"Negative, sir," replied Benfall as he continued forward, engaging the remaining TIE Interceptor. "I will cover you. Get out of here, make it to Zeta Nine and home." The fighter continued firing its lasers, and was even successful; he was able to destroy the fighter without taking any more damage, but that was all the luck he was going to get.

As Benfall's Headhunter turned around and began to make it's way back to an escort pattern, Nelson saw the pinpoints of green laser fire shooting up into the sky from the ground. "Watch out, Red Alpha! Laser towers are on the ground and they have our range!"

Benfall sounded as if he was about to make a reply, but two laser bolts hit his ship. Three seconds later, the starfighter careened downward at an accelerated rate and Nelson had to strain his neck in order to see it impact on the surface of the planet. "Cadet, can you hear me?"

Silence answered him and he turned to look at Kitz. "Any beacon?"

She shook her head. "There's too much ground clutter, so even if he did eject, there's no way to track him. However, it doesn't look good."

Nelson turned back to the viewport and just gave a sigh. "Well, then...let's get going to Zeta Nine."

[Rob Baden's X-wing, Imperial Space, Esseles System, 1418 Hours]

Rob entered the battle above Esseles with a calm attitude, despite the seething anger and hate threatening to spill out from inside. The situation was fast becoming grim, with Red Talon only having eight surviving soldiers and with Red Squadron already losing one combat pilot and two trainees. The loss of Jamie stung, as he and the younger pilot were somewhat good friends, but the loss of Benfall and Spek'lya cut deeper into his heart than he was prepared to deal with. They were still undergoing training, and had so much to look forward to.

Rob pulled back hard on his stick and came about as a TIE Fighter flew past his previous position. He switched his firing control over to quad-lasers and centered the Imperial vessel in the center of his reticle, then pressed the trigger on his stick. Red bolts of energy flew out from his wingtips and hit the TIE dead center, causing it to immediately blow apart. "Okay, Six, it looks like Two Flight managed to make a dent in the shields on that 'vette, so a single run should probably do it. Follow me in."

"I'm right with you, Lead."

Rob maneuvered his X-wing through the defensive fire of the nearby Corvette and weaved around behind it so he was face-to-face with the huge engine block of the starship. He boosted his shields, as he got closer to the starship, to try and defend him against the engine wake, and selected his warhead launcher system. "Torpedoes armed."

"I've got tone," said Chris over the headset. "Solid red."

"On my mark, fire." He inched closer and closer to the Corvette, managing to stay in its blind spot, and then suddenly stopped his momentum. "Fire!" he yelled into his headset as he pressed the trigger on his flight stick. Two blue lines shot out from the nose of his fighter and he quickly hit the accelerator and looped around and away from the vessel. He looked back over his shoulder to see Chris doing likewise, and a few moments later the Corvette's engines exploded as they were hit with massive protons. About twenty seconds later, the ship began to roll out of control.

"Scratch one 'vette!"

"Lead!" came the excited voice of Sazril, "I could use some help over here! I've got three TIEs on my six, and I can't seem to shake them all."

"Hang on, Thirteen, I'm on my way. Six, I want you to do a loop around and see if you can come in behind the engagement for a surprise. I'll take the direct approach, but remember, don't let yourself get drawn into a single dogfight, we're here to help bail out Flight Two."

"Understood, Lead."

Rob reset his ELS system to double zero and shot out towards the lightshow, keeping a careful eye on his shields. He didn't want it to fall too low to the point that he would be defenseless, but he also had to get as quickly as he could into the battle in order to help out Sazril. The man was a good pilot, and an excellent tactician, but in the universe such as the one they all lived in, only the law of numbers applied. Sometimes, despite being a renowned pilot and solider, the law of numbers took hold with a vengeance.

It didn't take him long to reach the engagement, and he could already tell that Sazril was doing quite well for the situation that he was in. He had managed to get on the aft of one of the TIEs, but the other two were still on his aft and quickly chewing away at his shields with their lasers. "Thirteen, I'm coming in right behind you, try and stay calm until then, okay?"

"Doing my best, Lead."

He moved in quick and selected single fire on his cannon, resetting his ELS back to increased rate. He decided to go after the TIE to port, but did not bring up the CMD as he did not want to spook the fighter with electronic indicators. He waited a moment and then opened fire, slicing the TIE with bolt after bolt of red energy, until it finally exploded. The other TIE broke off his pursuit and Rob followed him, firing into the path of the fighter until he found his mark and blew it apart a hit to the ion engines. "You're clear, Thirteen."

"Thanks, Lead."

"Lead, this is Seventeen. I'm afraid I must report that Seven has been lost."

Rob cursed under his breath and tried as hard as he could not to let the anger show in his voice. "Understood, Seventeen. Lead to Squadron; the Transport and the rest of Flight One will be heading to the Zeta Nine rendevous point. Form upon me and we'll make our way."

"We read you, Lead."

Damnit, Bill, not you, too.

Rob flew in silence, his mind thinking about the losses that his unit had already suffered today, and knew that the fight was not yet over. "Thirteen," he said suddenly, "what happened to the TIE you were chasing?"

"I blew it up, but I suffered a lot of damage. I don't think I'll be able to take another engagement without going to that big simulator in the sky."

Once again, Rob flew in silence as they made their way towards the rendevous point. It didn't take them long to get there, but they had to wait for the rest of the fighters to arrive. He checked his sensors and saw that the majority of the Imperial forces had been destroyed, but there were still four Corvettes, the Golan platform, and a handful of TIEs left, all of which–with the exception of the Golan–were heading towards their current position. "Come on," he said in a whisper, "where are you, Sooli?"

He maintained a watchful eye on the sensors until suddenly he felt a jolt as his fighter lurched forward. He cursed inwardly and hit the translation circuit on his CMD. "Twitch!" he yelled at his astromech. "Now is not the time to be playing around with my fighter! Release me, now!"

Rob's new astromech droid was quite different from Torch, the R5 unit that he brought with him to the Regis; this one had the ability to actually take over the controls of the fighter that she was jacked into. Rob had heard rumors about it, but this was the first time he had actually experienced it. This droid sooooo needs a memory wipe!

The experience lasted only a bit longer, but it was more than enough to last a lifetime. He quickly scanned the area and found that he had flown a full klick ahead of the rendevous point. Ironically, however, it was right in the path of the Pride of Alderaan and a single escorting X-wing. "Red Leader to Pride, where's Red Ten?"

"I'm sorry, Rob," came the saddened voice of Sooli Kitz. "We had to run the gauntlet of Corvettes, and Mark's X-wing didn't make it. And I'm afraid that the Pride's pretty beat up as well; she took a lot of damage in the escape."

Rob sighed and shook his head as he surveyed the ship. "Very well...let's get ready to leave. Lead to Squadron, take up hyperspace vector coordinates and prepare to make the jump to lightspeed." An array of affirmatives answered him and he began a countdown. "On my mark; five; four; three; two; one!" He hit the switch and made the lurch into hyperspace, breathing deeply.

It took several hours until they were able to arrive at the Anaxes System, but when they reverted to normal space, Rob was met with yet another saddening surprise. "Where's Thirteen?" No one was able to give an answer to him and Rob frowned. "Twitch, run a backlog sensor check when we entered hyperspace; give me all the information you can on Red Thirteen's X-wing."

The astromech–which, just hours ago, made a violent takeover of his fighter–obediently complied with Rob's instructions. A moment later the two-dimensional CMD display of Sazril Murshid's X-wing popped up on the monitor. Without waiting for further instructions, the droid moved the time index at a factor of point zero five, and the image showed that just before the ships entered hyperspace, Sazril's fighter blew apart due to a malfunction in what could only be his engines.

He must have had more damage than even he realized.

Rob sighed and ran a gloved hand over his goggles. "Red Leader to Morning Star Control, requesting permission for eight X-wings and one CEC YT-2400 transport to land."

"Acknowledged, Red Leader," came Jack Uoart's voice. "You have permission to land. Please line up; and welcome back."

"Yeah," he said softly. "So very glad to be back."

[Vice Admiral Ull's Office, Maria, Anaxes System, 0938 Hours]

"This mission report outlines a disaster, Colonel Baden."

Rob stood at rigid attention in Admiral Ull's office aboard the Maria, his uniform neat and pressed, although he hadn't had a chance to completely clean up the scar he had received when his console blew out. It wasn't a bad scar, just minor, and would most likely heal quickly, but it was still a bit unseemly. "Yes, sir," he simply said.

"Colonel, after having reviewed the reports from your own executive officer, General Nelson, General Nelson's executive officer, and the Morning Star's resident Intelligence Officer, I have concluded that your actions leading up to the ambush—including the somewhat insubordinate attitude taken towards a commanding officer in mission planning—were justified and correct. However," continued Ull, his glare focusing sharply on Rob's eyes, "the actions you took in addition to the mission given—including subverting your own tactical officer—when you arranged for two Z-95T Headhunters to be deployed within a few parsecs of your operations field—not to mention having said Intelligence Officer pilot your own personal, non-military craft—was so egregiously outside the parameters of your command that it boarders on sedition!"

"I believed it necessary to have a backup, sir, in case of an ambush occurring. Both my Executive Officer and the Intelligence Officer agreed with that assessment, and as it turns out, we were right to believe so. Now, ideally I would have wanted someone other than the trainees to pilot those ships, or even to accept the backup from another unit, but considering I was under orders not to discuss it with anyone outside of the unit, I couldn't exactly suggest that we tell another squadron."

Ull placed his hands on the surface of his desk and leaned forward, nearly coming face-to-face with Rob. "Mr. Baden…let's get right down to the end of the datafile, shall we? Despite the presence of an ambush, and despite the fact that your were ordered—repeatedly, I would like to point out—from the mission commander to retreat, you stayed and risked the lives of eleven pilots, two trainees, and three Intelligence operatives, not to mention the hardware associated with them. Now, granted, your actions resulted in nine highly trained Army operatives to be extracted, but they also resulted in having four of your combat pilots–not to mention the two trainees–being killed!"

Rob remained at complete attention, not even allowing any kind of emotion to show, but it was evident to anyone in the way he spoke that he was not happy with the situation either. "I would like to point out that only Cadet Benfall was shown to have positively been killed in action, sir. The rest are listed as MIA, as no evidence one way or the other showed up. And given how many times pilots being listed MIA have return from the abyss, I'm willing to hold some sort of hope for them."

"Colonel, you have stepped way over the line for your command responsibilities!"

"Begging the Admiral's pardon, sir, but I believe that I have never been more within my responsibilities!"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

Rob finally left the rigid military stance he had held and turned to face Ull. "I have a responsibility to protect the lives of the men and women under my command, but I also have a responsibility to protect the lives of my fellow comrades-in-arms. So, yes, I did disobey an order to retreat, because to do so would have meant certain death for the entire Red Talon team, and while I might not have any great love for the Army, I do not want to see my fellow freedom fighters die unnecessarily."

"Colonel, according to your record–a record which promoted you, I might add–you've always been one to follow orders, though there has been an occasion or two where you treaded the fine line. This is a complete leave from what your record has shown."

Rob stared at Ull with cold eyes and he could swear he saw the older man flinch just a little. "You promoted me, Admiral; it wasn't my idea, and I didn't exactly want to do it, either, but I will not become just a 'yes' man to you, or anyone. I saw the possibility of an ambush just like the one that happened, and I took steps to ensure that it did not end up being a total loss. Am I happy with the end result? No; but I feel better having made the choice to stay and rescue those soldiers then if I were have left and allowed them to be take captive or killed."

He adjusted his tunic slightly and returned to the former attention he had been at. "If you feel I have acted improperly, then you are well within your rights to have my command stripped from me. But know this, sir; if another situation like this one occurs, and I'm still in command of Red Squadron, then there's a good chance I will take whatever means I deem necessary to ensure the safety of my squadmates, and the others fighting alongside. To do anything less would be imperial."

Ull was silent for a moment, eyeing Rob viciously, and then he settled into the chair behind his desk. "Your demotion or transfer will not be necessary, Colonel. While your methods are not exactly orthodox, you do have the undying characteristic of being true to your fellows, and that is a hard thing to find in this war." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and his chin on his interlocked fingers. "But understand this, Colonel; if you want to keep your command, your rank, and especially your skin, you'll do well to work within the system and not to exceed your jurisdiction."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Rob gave a sharp salute and then turned on his heel and walked out of the room briskly. Once the doors closed behind him he let out a long, deep breath and relaxed his composure. Oy.

"How did it go?"

Rob turned to the right and saw Sooli and Chelsey waiting against the wall. He couldn't help but give them both a small smile, but then he quickly covered it up. "I'm still your boss, Chelsey, so don't make me mad."

"That's great!" shouted Chelsey.

Rob couldn't help but give her a soft smile in return. "I suppose. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to catch the next shuttle over to the Star and get some sack time. It's been a long couple of days." He turned without waiting for their replies and walked down the corridor, his stance as militarily upright as possible under the circumstances.

[Portside Hanger Bay, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 1019 Hours]

Chris watched as the shuttle settled on the deck and saw the landing ramp descend gently, a silent "thump" sounding as it hit the plating. A moment later the figure of Rob Baden walked slowly down and began walking towards the lift car at the end of the flight deck. The look on his face betrayed how exhausted and frustrated he must have been feeling, and Chris almost hesitated before he approached his commanding officer.

He joined instep beside Rob and cleared his throat gently. "Colonel, sir? May I have a word with you?"

Rob's eyes darted to Chris and the young man felt a chill run down his spine. Despite this feeling, he cleared his throat again and spoke once more. "It's, uh, a bit important, sir."

Rob seemed to finally relent and stopped his pace, turning to face Chris. "Yes, Lieutenant? What is it?"

"Sir, I wanted to talk to you about the situation that we, uh, that we had to deal with during the mission. I know you're probably under a lot of stress at the moment, and I don't wish to add to it, but, um, I just felt that I needed to tell you something."

"Chris," said Rob tiredly, "I've had a very long couple of days, I have to organize the memorial service for our losses, I have to write letters to the family members of those losses–and I can't even say how they died, because it was a secret mission–and I have to file reports. So, whatever it is that you want to tell me, please just spit it out before I have it extracted from you via a blaster carbine."

Chris winced a little and stepped back. "Sir, I hereby officially resign my position as Tactical Officer." Rob was about to open his mouth but Chris beat moved on, not letting his momentum stop. "I'm not asking to resign from the unit, just as the official tactical analyst. It's something I've been thinking about for a while now and this last mission helped to justify it."

"But, why?" asked Rob. "Chris, you've been TacO for quite a while; your input in invaluable to our operations."

"Rob, my lack of pertinent analysis indirectly lead to the death of six pilots."

"That's not so," said the older man, shaking his head slightly. "Only Hulk's remains were positively identified; there's a chance that the others are still out there, that they survived somehow, perhaps even as POWs. There's a chance, Chris."

"The same chance that Zoom had?"

Chris' statement seemed to hit a nerve as he saw Rob wince just slightly. He cursed himself silently and shook his head as he looked back at the Corellian. "Colonel, the chances that all—or any—of them survived the engagement is extremely low. According to SAR Command, no beacons, transmitters, or other traceable emitters were even sent from Esseles on any Republic or civilian frequency." He shook his head again and gave a sigh. "And no matter what you tell me, I honestly believe that it is partly my fault that those men will not be coming back to us. That, sir, is why I feel it is my obligation and duty to step down as tactical liaison for Red."

Rob just stood there for a long while, silent. Chris couldn't tell what he was thinking, what was going on in his mind, but his reaction didn't seem to show that he was upset. Force, I hope he doesn't ream me out for doing this.

"I understand that you feel the situation is partly your fault, even if I don't. And because of your dedicated service to the unit, I'll abide by your request to be removed from your staff position. However," he continued, and Chris could tell that he had something up his sleeve, "due to the recent mission we have a bit of a vacuum in the area of leadership. As such, I have decided that you will be promoted to Flight Leader of Flight Two."

Chris stared at him for a moment with his mouth wide open. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Chris," continued Rob, with the apparent death of Yale, you're now third in command of Red. Now, while that might by a very frightening situation for those of us that know you, the fact that you have been a dedication and remarkable officer during your tenure within the unit has certainly justified the situation. So, while you might not be in charge of helping to plan our tactical operations, you are in charge of executing them in the field, or at least over a small group of people."

"Sir, with our losses we're only at two-thirds combat strength. Surely Major Maxfield would be the person more likely to be in charge of the second flight."

"Ah, but I've decided to mix up the roster a bit so that there will continue to be three flights. The full details will be posted after the memorial service. And in fact, I've just been told by Command that we're going to be receiving yet another pilot, a Mr. Chris Hart. I've decided that he will be your responsibility, Lieutenant; you're his element and flight leader." Rob smiled at him and then let his expression fall back to the stone face he had earlier. "Now, is there anything else you wish to discuss with me? I am a bit tired and I really could use some rest."

Chris shook his head and stepped back, opening the way for Rob to move past. "No, sir, that's all. Have a good rest, sir."

"Thank you. And Chris?"

"Sir?"

"Lose the 'sir' when it's just you and I around. I'm still just Rob."

Chris grinned and snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir!"

[Baden's Personal Quarters, Morning Star, Anaxes System, 1033 Hours]

Rob walked into his quarters and looked around at the spacious cabin. He had never expected that he would be in a place so luxurious while in the military; the last time he was in something even remotely close to this big was when he was living on Nar Shadda, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

He walked over to the bunk and sat down on it slowly, and remembered immediately that it had once belonged to one of the most dedicated officers he had ever known. And now I'm in his position, his cabin, his office even. Oy, how did it come to this?

"Computer," he stated to the communications console, "any personal messages?"

"Affirmative; one personal message from Ms. Trixel Narmi."

Rob sighed and lay on his back, placing his feet on the bed. "Any official message?"

"Affirmative; one official message from Lieutenant Livse Serule."

"Flag messages for attention at Twenty Hundred Hours."

"Completed."

Rob closes his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. The images of Mark Hague's face came to him, and soon did Sazril Murshid's, and Matthew Benfall's, Jamie Wetherill's, Bill Doellefeld's, and Thak Spek'lya's. He opened his eyes again, but he couldn't shake their presence form his mind, their faces seeming to imbed themselves into his very soul.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to himself in an attempt to justify himself to them. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to bring you back to the Star with me." He rubbed his eyes with his hands roughly, almost irritating his skin as he tried to shake the images. "I tried as hard as I could, but I wasn't able to bring all of you back with me."

He sighed and hit the switch to turn off the lights, not bothering to change out of his duty uniform. Am I really cut out for this? he asked himself. Is this really what I'm capable of doing? Six men lost their lives because of my actions, because of my orders, and there's no way to justify that to myself.

The thoughts continued to plague him as he drifted off to sleep, aware that they would continue to do so for as long as he was in command of Red.

The End