Manufacturing Facility NL-1 was a modern miracle. It was built back in the waning days of the Old Republic and survived through all sorts of havoc, but it had fallen into disrepair after the Pakunni Pirates occupied it for a couple years. Currently, however, it was in the rightful hands of the Empire. More than a year ago, they drove off the pirates and took over the facility. No one really knew what significance the facility held for the Empire. Some speculated, based on what was being produced, that there was a massive ship or something being built somewhere. For all they knew, it could be more than one. Nonetheless, the Pakunni people were glad to be working again and rid of the pirates.

Word had it that the pirates didn't go very far. Not very long after they were driven away from Pakunni a new gang of pirates, calling themselves the Bloody Fangs, took hold in the Asmeru system. Most people believe that the Bloody Fangs are the same pirates that the Empire drove off. Although not in large numbers, one or two of the pirates have been seen slinking around on Pakunni. However, since they never caused any trouble, local law enforcement tended to leave them alone.

The technicians that were assigned to the out of the way location in the Pakunni system took pride in their new home. Over the course of a year, they brought the old facility back to the spit polish condition for which the Empire was known throughout Imperial space.

For the past few months things were pretty quiet at NL-1. Freighters came and went at regular intervals. Few ships were actually permanently stationed there. However, of those, one was a Victory-class Star Destroyer, the Valiant, under the command of Vice Admiral Devin Tremmel. With him was the rest of his small fleet, which consisted of a frigate, the Vendetta, and two corvettes, the Titan and Salvage. They were the most recent additions to the facility's defenses.

They were the only leftovers from the Grazala campaign.

It was almost a complete loss at Grazala. Moff Lemmor, through costly mistakes, had gotten his fleet decimated. Admiral Awlas and the ISD Inquisitor were gone; destroyed in a violent death at the hands of rebel forces that are claiming to be the "new" Republic. The Valiant, Vendetta, Titan, and Salvage were the only ones to escape. Vice Admiral Tremmel was either smart enough, or coward enough, depending on who you talked to, to hyper away from the rebel ambush. By that point in the game Tremmel had grown disillusioned of Lemmor and of Awlas and their bid to become the new ruling force of the galaxy. Most of his crew felt the same way and yearned for a return to Imperial space and to the normalcy that it would bring back to their lives. Though there were still a few dissenters, they were quickly quieted when they learned of the fate of Awlas' fleet. And then, they, too, were happy to still be alive.

Tremmel took the fleet of four ships back to Coruscant where the Empire was being lead by Yssane Isard. He quickly found out that she, without a doubt, had earned her nickname: Iceheart. She congratulated him for surviving the devastating ambush, promoted him to Vice Admiral, and placed him in command of the four ship fleet. However, as a punishment for following Awlas to join with Lemmor in the first place, she sent him and the rest of his small fleet to the Pakunni system for "repairs". Those repairs were completed in a matter of weeks, but Tremmel was still there. Isard told him that his job was to protect the facility, but he knew better. Nothing was going on in the system. It was not important enough for the "rebels" to strike. Thus, it seemed that this assignment was a dead end. Still, Tremmel and his people were glad to be back in the Imperial navy.

Chapter 1

Lt. Colonel Andrew "Dobber" Dobson and Lt. Colonel Kelly "Zoom" St. Clair watched with pride as their pilots filed into the small briefing room the two squadrons were now sharing aboard the Regis. Red Squadron was slightly over strength in numbers and every one of them was an accomplished pilot. Several of them were even aces many times over.

Dobber was full of pride for his pilots, but that pride was tempered with a great deal of sadness. Only four of them had survived the Happy Jack's destruction and now even the future of Blue Squadron was in doubt. If Blue was to survive, it would need more pilots and he still didn't know where he was going to get them...or if he would get them at all. Sure, command told him that they would be getting new pilots, but he'd heard that before. So, his sadness was not only for the loss of his fellow pilots and friends, but also for his beloved squadron as a whole.

As the last pilot took her seat, the two squadron commanders stepped up to the podium. Red's CO was first to step up to the microphone, "Good morning boys and girls." Mixed cheers and groans of 'good morning' greeted him. Zoom smiled. "I know we haven't had much time to rest, but we've still got a lot of work to do before it will slow down. Hopefully, the changes we've got coming will help us." There were several more groans at the mention of changes. Most of the pilots knew that when a higher up mentioned changes, bad things ensued.

Zoom waved the protesters down before continuing, "Well, since we are all so eager this morning, let's just dive right in." He pressed a button on the holo-controller and the image of a Mon Calamari Cruiser appeared in the air. Several of the pilots leaned forward with newly peaked interest as he continued, "This is the CRS Morning Star. As you can see it is a Mon Cal cruiser. What is so special about this one is that it is one of the new models built from scratch specifically for military use." He waited until all the pilots had finished oohing and aahing. "And...," he paused for effect, "this is our new command ship."

That brought a stunned silence to the room. The Regis was the only command ship most of his pilots had ever known. Kelly braced himself for the onslaught of questions and complaints he knew were coming.

A hand quickly went up in the air, "Yes, Angel?"

"What happens to the Regis, sir?" The rest of the Red's added their support to the question at hand.

Yes, as expected, that was the very first question, he thought to himself. How could it not be?

"Good question, it is staying with us." There was an audible sigh of relief from the assembled pilots. "Captain Daly and the Regis are going to be one of the Morning Star's support vessels. That and it is being completely turned over to the Training squadron, which, by the way, will be getting a new drop of trainees. So, some of you will still be spending a good bit of time over there helping train them up."

Zoom pointed to Captain Chelsey "Vape" Maxfield as her hand shot up, "Vape."

"What happens to us, sir?"

"I was just getting to that. Our primary role will be Space Superiority. There will still be escort duty and recon missions though. So, that means strictly X-Wings and A-Wings." That brought several cheers. "It also means no more bombing runs," he added bringing even more cheers as well as some bewildered looks from the Blue squadron pilots.

Schmitty raised his hand and broke in with a worried expression on his face, "Excuse me sir, but what about the Y's and new B's we have? As you know, I've sort of grown fond of the new B." A few of the Red pilots chuckled under their breath remembering Schmitty's first experience in the Alliance's newest heavy assault fighter/bomber.

Zoom turned to Blue squadron's commander, "Dobber, you want to take that one?"

"Yes," he said and stepped forward. "To answer your question, ummm," he bent over to get a closer look at the pilot's rank insignia and name, "1st Lt. Michadick, they will be given to us." He started to continue, but was cut off by one of his remaining pilots.

"But, sir!? What's going to happen to us?" Flight Officer Kristopher "Target" Chester said while motioning to the two other pilots sitting next to him.

Pointing his thumb towards Zoom, Dobber answered, "We're going with them."

"We're being transferred to Red Squad?" Flight Officer Ionescu "Zoz" Ciprian interjected.

"No," Andrew answered quickly. "We will not be transferring to Red." There was a collective sigh of relief. "We will also be stationed onboard the Morning Star...still as Blue Squadron. Command has decided to change our role though. Instead of being the patchwork squadron we've been, they are designating us as a Heavy Assault squadron. And, as with Red squadron, we'll be flying escort duty as well." That brought looks of relief from his three pilots. They all had more than enough time in that role and felt comfortable doing it.

Dobber continued. "For now we'll be flying the Y's as our primary fighter, but we'll have two T-65's that we'll be using as well. Plus, we'll be getting two B's from Red Squadron. Command tells me that we'll be getting a few more of them. So, everyone should get up to speed on the new B's as, eventually that will become our primary craft. We're going to have to use a few Y-Wings and X-Wings until they can get us enough of the B-Wing's though."

Kristofer raised his hand and waited for his CO to acknowledge him.

"Yes, Target?"

"Well sir, it doesn't seem like that matters right now, we only have four pilots and we'll have at least that many B-Wings."

"That's true, but High Command has promised us as many pilots as they can send us. And as you know, that probably won't be enough to get us to full strength. Which brings us to the next point in this briefing. Colonel St. Clair..." Dobber took a step back as Zoom took over again.

He looked out at all of the pilots and took a calming breathe before beginning. "All of you," he directed his comments now to the Red squadron pilots only, "can see that the Blue's are desperately in need of trained pilots. And, let's be serious, we can't count on higher to get them the all the pilots they need. So, I'm asking you to put the needs of the New Republic ahead of your own and consider a transfer to Blue Squadron." Next to him Dobber grew a little worried at the mix of mostly negative looks he was getting from the Red's. But, that was to be expected. You form a bond with your squadron. That's what makes a good unit. Still, he hoped they might be more open to the idea he and Dobber had discussed earlier. "There could even be opportunities in Blue that you wouldn't otherwise have here in Red. It's just something for all of you to think about. None of you have to decide right now. In fact, we want you to take a day to think it over."

Zoom patted Dobber on the shoulder. Certainly there would be a ton of questions coming to both of them. After all, they had just dropped a bomb on everyone. But those questions would have to be asked at another time. It was getting late and there was still so much to do. "Alright, we've got a move to make people. So, let's get packing." As he and Dobber began to leave the podium someone called the room to attention. All the pilots in the room jumped up and braced themselves in respect for their commanding officers' departure. It was common military courtesy. "Dismissed," Zoom said just before reaching the open door and walking through it. The pilots scattered, some going directly to their rooms to pack, others forming little knots discussing the news that had just been passed down. All were in shock.

Leo stayed behind. He wanted to talk to his commander about what he was now considering. With all of the time he had been a part of Red Squadron, how could he now be thinking about transferring? It was hard to believe, even for him.

As Zoom was headed for the door to leave the briefing room, Leo called out to him.

"Kelly! Um...sir?" he corrected himself. "May I have a word with you?"

Zoom didn't even notice the slip of the tongue from his subordinate. It was obvious that his mind was racing with schedules, plans, etc. After all, there was a big move to make.

"Sure, Sean," he replied. "But I'm sure that you'd rather talk privately, so why don't we take it to my office."

The Regis wasn't a large ship, so the short walk to Zoom's office only gave Leo time enough to think about how he would start the conversation. The thought of moving to a huge Mon Cal cruiser made the halls of the Regis seem that much shorter. He wondered if maybe he should ask Kelly if they could talk a little later after he had time to think a little more about his decision. No, time wouldn't change his mind and he knew it. Let's get this over with, he thought to himself as he crossed the threshold into the older man's office.

Zoom casually walked around his desk to his chair and sat down. He realized that he wouldn't be in this office much longer and paused for a second. Not only was an era coming to end, but it began to sink in what Leo was about to say to him. I wonder how many more? It was a question that would be answered soon enough. It was a huge thing for him to ask his pilots to consider transferring. He knew that. He doubted that he would have the courage to do it. But he had exemplary pilots in his squad. It was comforting to know that they wouldn't let him, or the New Republic down.

One of those exemplary pilots was now standing in front of him, braced at attention with a salute.

He returned the salute and waved his hand to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.

"Have a seat, Sean."

"Thank you," Leo replied as he sat down.

Zoom could see the nervousness all over Leo's face. Usually the younger man was calm, cool, and collected. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen Leo look so nervous about anything. To make it easier on him, Kelly started off the conversation.

"So, you're the first one to request the transfer?"

"How'd you know?" Sean abruptly asked.

"Sean, it's written all over your face."

"I never was very good at hiding my thoughts." He sat up a little straighter in his seat. "So," he paused, "I really hate..."

Before he could get out another word, Kelly interrupted.

"Sean, you would be an excellent addition to Blue Squadron. Your time here in Red Squadron has seen you grow from a green pilot to a trusted leader...and a good friend. You deserve a chance to utilize your leadership potential and I don't see a better opportunity than a transfer to Blue."

Kelly had a way of encouraging his pilots. It was clear that his words had touched Sean and made him more at ease with his decision to ask for a transfer. And Kelly knew that his next bit would cement those feelings.

"Dobber and I have talked it over and agree that in order to make this transfer work best he'll be promoting one of our Red transferees to be his new XO."

Sean nodded.

"I'm going to recommend you for that position," Kelly let that sink in for a moment. "I'm confident that there'll be a few more Red's requesting the transfer and Blue will once again be a full squadron. But, it will take the combined work of its CO and XO to make a 'new' Blue Squadron a cohesive unit. I think you and Andrew will make an excellent team."

"I don't know what to say," Sean replied. "Thank you. Thank you for your confidence in me. I won't let you...or anyone else down."

"I'm sure you won't, Sean. Now, unless there's something else you'd like to talk about, I think you better get me an official request on my desk to sign."

"Roger that, sir."

1st Lieutenant Steve "Schmitty" Michadick sat alone on his bunk in his and Biggs' room after the briefing where they learned that things were about to change in a major way. Both squadrons would be moving to a new command ship and home, the CRS Morning Star. Not only that, but Zoom had even gone as far as to ask for volunteers from Red to transfer to the weakened Blue Squadron. So, as always, Steve followed orders and considered transferring to Blue Squadron.

As was the norm with him, he started verbalizing his thoughts even though no one else was in the room to hear him.

"You'd think that we'd be given more than 'over night' to make a big decision like this," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "I understand that things move fast in war, but this is ridiculous." Like all of the other pilots in Red Squadron, he thought of his squad mates as family and didn't want to leave them to go to another squadron. But he couldn't help to think about the opportunities that were there in Blue.

One of the big selling points to him was that Blue was being decommissioned as a patchwork squadron and re-commissioned as a heavy assault/bomber unit. Their main fighter would be the Y-Wing and the new B-Wing...his new favorite. Ever since that first experience he had in the Alliance's new heavy assault fighter he loved it, though some would ask why. The precision necessary in bombing runs appealed to the perfectionist in him. However, he had to admit to himself that he would miss the shear speed of the A-Wing. This decision would not be an easy one.

Then there was the prospect of new squad mates. He didn't really know any of them so he didn't know if he would be able to get along with them. Would they be as open to his sharing of his faith in Y'shua as his squad mates in Red have been? "Well, at least some of them were," he said out loud again. Others were not; but that was to be expected. So, he concluded, it would most likely be the same with Blue. And, to be honest with himself, the prospect of guiding someone to a saving faith in Y'shua held the greatest appeal.

"Plus, maybe I'll be able to have a greater hand in this new Blue Squadron. I have a lot of energy and zeal, which seems to motivate others. And, I think that's just what Blue needs right now."

He sat up straighter as he slowly realized that he had already made his decision.

"Ok, then...I guess I'm gonna do it. Tomorrow I'll become a Blue. Besides, all of my friends here in Red will still be on the same ship." He paused to let his decision really sink in. "Funny how life changes," he chuckled as he got up to look for a datapad. Then something stopped him in his tracks. He looked around his room at the bags of his and Rob's things packed up ready to go in the morning. They were told they'd be receiving their room assignments when they got to the Morning Star. "Hmmm, I wonder if I'll have to move to another room and break in a new roommate? Biggs and I get along pretty well, maybe they'll let us stay in the same room over there too," he wondered. He shrugged and pulled out a fresh datapad to begin writing up his transfer request.

Shortly into it he paused. "I wonder how everyone will take the news?" His thoughts went to Angel, his wingman. The two of them had grown quit close since her arrival on the Regis. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't be transferring with him and that she'd be upset about his leaving. Both of them would have to learn to fly with someone new, to learn someone else's moves, how that other person reacts in certain situations. But he liked change. It would be fun to get to know someone new. He sat wondering for a minute longer and then began to write again.

As he was finishing up the request he remembered that he was supposed to meet everyone in the Mug to talk about this whole thing. Putting the completed request away until morning, he got up and headed for the door still wondering who else might make the same request. They were all bound to find out soon enough.

Most of the pilots were already well into their drinks when Trixel saw Biggs walk into the Mug. She smiled and waved to him as he made his way to the bar.

"Hello, Miss Narmi," Biggs said with a slight smile on his face.

"Hi, Biggs, how's it going?"

"Things are going well, considering everything that's going on."

She handed him his usual, "This move will be good for you guys, you'll see."

"I certainly hope so, but with all of these changes, it definitely will not be a smooth ride," Rob glanced over his shoulder at the assembled pilots, "Looks like things are getting started, I'd better go."

Before she had a chance to say anything, Ranger, who was corralling up all the stray pilots, came by and snatched Rob up by the arm, "Plenty enough time to get plastered Baden, let's get the formal stuff over with so we can really start having fun." Dragging Biggs with him, Ranger looked over his shoulder, "Trix, I hope you're well rested, 'cause it's going to be a long night!"

Laughing, she answered, "Don't worry about me, I'm always the last one standing at one of y'all's parties."

She watched them go as Ranger laughed. Over the years, she'd seen more than her fair share of pilots come and go. Most of them had tried what she liked to call 'bombing runs'. But, Biggs was different. He had never tried. He would just walk in, order his drink, sit down at the bar, and stare off into space. After months of serving him drinks and trying to breakdown the durasteel barricades he set up around himself, she finally started having some success. He would come in late, when nobody else was in the Mug, and they would talk. Not for that long, but it was always nice to talk to him and she felt like she was doing some good. She found herself really hoping that even with her boys moving to the Morning Star, that what she had come to share with Biggs wouldn't end. One thing was for sure, if nothing else, he was definitely going to get a big surprise once he got to the Morning Star. She smiled inwardly and got back to work.

She greeted each pilot in turn; some that had been there for quite a while like Schmitty, Yale, Leo, and Redjed; and others that had joined more recently like Lobo, Shadow, and Stony. She knew all of them by name and knew most of what had made each one join. She'd come to see them as her boys; and girls, Angel and Vape would let her have an ear full if she forgot that. And each pilot, no matter how new or old, had come to see her as part of the Red's. So, she continued to hand out drinks to the late arrivals and watch as Ranger quieted everyone for Zoom's speech. "Yes," she said to herself, "it's going to be a long night indeed."

After the get together in the Mug, 1st Lieutenant Rob "Biggs" Baden sat in his quarters at his desk. The low level of the light created a darkened shadow from his position. Looking over he saw Steve's packed bags and personal effects and then looked back at his own small bag, sighing to himself at the comparison

He had come aboard the Regis with very little in the way of possessions. About the only thing he did have was his two Alderaanian swords, some holo-stills of himself and Lela, and his mechanic's license. Everything else was supplied by the New Republic military. It's not that he didn't have a lot of items in his life...a great deal of his personal belongings were stored aboard the Pride of Alderaan back on Mrlsst. The reason why was because he wanted to try and fit in on the ship without being too drawn into his own personal life; an experiment that had failed time and again.

And now I'm being transferred to another ship.

While he had seen the Morning Star previously during their short stay in the Mon Calamari system, the prospect of being transferred to another ship did not set well with him. About the only good thing to come of it would be that he would still be rooming with Steve, though no longer in the same unit.

In the Mug earlier, the Caridan had confided in him that he was planning on transferring over to Blue Squadron in hopes of helping to rebuild the diminished unit. The rest of the squad wouldn't be hearing about the pending transfer until later today. It had shocked Rob a little, but he understood the other man's reasons.

Steve had already talked to Zoom about their room assignment; so they were a leg up on the rest of the squad in that sense. In any event, he did not want to make a scene about it. His own mind and heart was still mending from the too recent Battle of Tynna.

The intercom sparked to life and Rob turned his head slightly. "Now hear this. Now hear this. All remaining personnel who are transferring to the Morning Star please report to the Flight Deck in thirty minutes. Repeat, all remaining personnel who are transferring to the Morning Star please report to the Flight Deck in thirty minutes."

Sighing as he stood, Rob huffed the duffle bag over his shoulder and picked up his small medal case in his left hand. He looked over the room and noticed how empty it looked; though his side didn't appear too much different than when his things were there. Still, that was just fine with him. Turning away for the last time, he walked out of the door and down to the lift car.

Vape sighed, thinking about the previous day's briefing. She knew why they were moving from the Regis to the Morning Star and she agreed that it was a good idea. Still, she didn't want to leave the Regis--it was home, the only one she had known for a number of years.

And then they were asking for volunteers to transfer to Blue Squadron. She frowned. Somehow, it just didn't seem right. She knew volunteers would help rebuild Blue. Leo and Schmitty had transferred, but there was simply no way she would. It wasn't that she didn't want to help Blue. She usually helped people whenever she could, but she couldn't leave Red. There were too many friends, too many good memories, wrapped up in Red; and she also trusted and respected the Red CO. No; she owed Red her loyalty. Besides, she enjoyed the speed of the A-wing and being in a bomber oriented squadron like Blue just would not suit her.

Since the loss of her mother, Red had become her one and only family. Her thoughts drifted to one of the men that had helped return her to her family after being captured by the Imperials and taken to Carida. Thane, she recalled, was a NRI agent. If it weren't for him, she'd either be a TIE pilot or dead right now. It had been several months since he left the Regis on a new assignment and she wondered how he was doing and if she'd ever see him again.

With her mind made up, she took one last look around her cabin, picked up her bags, and left the room. There was a shuttle leaving for the Morning Star in 10 minutes that she was scheduled to be on it. As she walked to the hanger, memories of her life on the Regis filled her head and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Chapter 2

The Platform NL-1 was a modern miracle. It was built back in the waning days of the old Galactic Republic and had survived through assaults by renegades and pirates although it had fallen into disrepair after the Pakunni Pirates occupied it a couple years. These days it was in the rightful hands of the Empire. The technicians that were assigned to the out of the way location in the Pakunni system took pride in their home. Over the years, they brought the old station back to the spit polish condition for which the Empire was known throughout Imperial space.

"Admiral," the comm. officer began, "the Vendetta, Salvage, and Titan all check in and are ready on your mark. Alpha flight is flying patrol and has also checked in."

To keep his crew fresh, as well as give them some time away from NL-1, Tremmel took his fleet out on regular training runs. They never stayed out long, but it was just enough time to run through some drills. He always kept a flight of TIE's back to patrol, just in case Isard checked up on him. It was becoming a routine, but it kept the crew sharp. One day they would get a real assignment and he wanted to be ready.

"Send today's coordinates, ensign," Tremmel said from his command chair. As his communications officer relayed the coordinates for the drill, he looked around the bridge of the Valiant. Although it was not as large and spacious as that of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, it was still quit impressive. Devin thought back to what it had taken for him to get to this position, the command of a Star Destroyer as well as his own fleet. As a young ensign in the early days of the Empire he looked up to his captain. He knew that the man must have been a great leader if the Emperor and his aide, Darth Vader, used his ship to check on the progress of the Death Star. As it turned out, when the Death Star was completed, Tremmel recalled that Emperor Palpatine put the man in charge of the space station. Promoted to Grand Moff, Tarkin was a man that Tremmel wanted to emulate. To Devin, Tarkin was a poster child for how far a loyal Imperial could go in the Empire.

It was a devastating moment when he was told that the Death Star was destroyed by the Rebels. But, in Tarkin's memory, Devin devoted himself to the eradication of the scum that made up the Rebel Alliance. His drive did not go unnoticed and he quickly climbed the rank ladder. At Endor, he was promoted to Admiral and given the command of the Victory-class Star Destroyer Valiant.

No one expected the loss of the second Death Star, or the Emperor for that matter. With a gaping hole at the top of the Empire there was a huge power grab. Tremmel did not like not knowing who to follow or from whom to take orders. He just wanted to get on with the business of wiping out the Rebels. To him, the fight did not end at Endor.

Then Awlas, his immediate superior, after chasing that notorious Red Squadron around, decided to join up with Moff Lemmor. And, now, here he was. He loved the feeling of being in command of a Star Destroyer. One day he hoped to get the command of an Imperial Star Destroyer, or even a Super Star Destroyer. He could imagine the huge bridge on those ships and the large pits where the crew sat. But, until Isard was out of the picture, Tremmel was sure that his dream would never come true.

"Ensign, all ships jump on my mark." Devin paused. "Mark."

Almost as one, the four ships jumped to hyperspace.

From the observation deck on NL-1, Gaar Nesmil stood looking out of the view port as the four ships entered hyperspace. Then, turning away, he made a single comment as he went back to his work. "Right on schedule."

The Valiant was a little smaller than the Inquisitor, but since Grazala it was home for Bexley and Cidran. They both saw a lot of action with Admiral Awlas, but just barely survived their last engagement in the Grazala system. Had is not been for Cidran noticing the Valiant making a run for it, they never would have made it.

The rebels were swarming everywhere. Moff Lemmor's forces were not faring well in the engagement and were losing ships at an increasing rate. Bexley was on the comm. telling him that he thought he had heard Tinra Koval's voice in the enemy traffic when Cidran saw the Valiant and several other of Awlas' support ships making a break for open space. In a split second, the two friends decided to extricate themselves from the battle and join the Valiant in their survival attempt.

As they flew at top speed to catch up to the fleeing ship, Bexley went on about their promise to each other to hunt down Tinra for what she did to Krem. He was sure that he heard her voice and it infuriated him that she was in their grasp, but here they were, leaving. He could swear that he heard her being referred to as "Vape". The voice match was just too close to be a coincidence. Although he hadn't heard it, Cidran believed his wingman. But, at that point in time it was more important to stay alive; and staying in that battle meant certain death. Live to fight another day was their mantra now. Tinra, if she survived the battle, would be a fish to catch another day.

That was then.

Now, Bexley and Cidran sat down at an old table, eating their portion of "soup of the day". It was a hearty stock with plenty of vegetables and meat in a thick broth. The consistency was more like a stew than a soup and was the kind that really stuck to your ribs. One bowl was definitely enough to fill the stomach of an average human. But it was the robust aroma that wafted through the halls leading to the café on NL-1 that topped it off. If NL-1 was known for nothing else, it was known for the delectable smells from all of the fine foods served daily. It was a good thing that there were no Gammoreans on board, or everyone would be trampled by the stampede.

With all of the good food and lack of action, it was no wonder that it was hard for Bexley and Cidran, as well as all of their squadmates, to stay in shape. Unfortunately, that meant long hours on the stationary exercise equipment, which, naturally, most of them hated. But, it was a small price to pay. For Bexley and Cidran, it gave them plenty of time to think about what had happened to them over the past year or so and just how they got to be on NL-1. It also gave them time to think about their friend, Krem. They both missed him and each time their thoughts would dwell on him their thought inevitably would drift towards her.

Tinra. They all thought of her as a friend. Then, she went and did the unthinkable. She defected to the rebellion and shot down Krem in the prime of his life. For that, they would never forgive her. They would find her and make her pay. The thought was never far from the forefront.

"Cidran?" Bexley asked after swallowing a delicious mouthful of patruny cub stew.

"Hmm?" Cidran replied. His mouth was full too.

"Did I tell you who I talked to yesterday?"

"Um, no. You didn't. I hope it wasn't Trav, 'cause I told you that I don't care how much he begs. I'm not going to play swingball with him," he said in frustration.

"Well, I did run into him, too. But that's not who I'm talking about. By the way, Trav wants you to call him," he chuckled.

"Ha Ha, very funny Bex. So, who did you run into?" Still nodding his head, he took another bite of his soup. Even after a few months, he couldn't believe how good the food was here.

"You remember that I had to go downside yesterday?" Bexley asked.

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, I ran into this guy on the street...literally. He looked like the type that was ready to go to blows with me over it, but, to my surprise, he didn't say anything. Instead, it looked like he was measuring me up. I didn't think anything about it until a few minutes later. Then it hit me...that guy looked a lot like Krem!" Although there was excitement in his voice, he forcibly lowered his volume. It was well known that the two of them had a score to settle with someone and that they had been scheming of ways to find that person. Since they hadn't done anything about it so far, people were getting tired of hearing them talk about it.

Bexley looked around them to see if anyone was listening. Finding that no one was, he continued.

"As you know, going around and around in my head about Krem...and her," his words dripping with disdain, "I was quit angry for a while. Then I saw the guy again about an hour later. This time I stopped him and asked him if he was any relation to Krem."

Cidran leaned closer and also with a whisper asked, "Well? Was he?"

"Yes!" Bexley answered. "He said his name was Johanus. Johanus Malkrin."

"Hey! That's Krem's mother's sir name!" Cidran was just as excited as Bexley. Krem had mentioned that he probably had brothers or sisters out there, but never knew of any outright. Now, they knew for sure that he was right. "What a pity that Krem never got to meet his own brother." The fires of hatred burned even brighter in his heart. "I assume that you actually talked to him and told him what happened to Krem.

"Of course I did. The thing is, Johanus never knew about Krem either. Apparently, their mother remarried after Krem's father took off with him to serve in the Outer Rim. I think there must have been some real bad blood there for a father to take a child away from his mother. Anyway, she met a new guy and they had a son. Johanus said that she never mentioned that he had an older brother."

"I bet Krem would have loved to have a little brother," Cidran said.

Bexley nodded in agreement. "There's more. It turns out that Johanus got in with a gang when he was in his teens. They started out as just a bunch of kids up to no good, but then grew into a group of pirates."

"Wait," Cidran interrupted, "let me guess...the same pirates that the Empire drove out of here?" He pointed down at the table as he spoke.

Bexley nodded again. "Yup! One and the same. The Bloody Fangs they call themselves now. When the Empire came to Pakunni and drove them out, they headed to the next system, Asmeru. Johanus says that he just came back here to grab a few things that they left behind. He's also their newest first officer under their captain, Jeremiah Chase. Chase was Johanus' best friend growing up."

"Great. He have anything else to say? What are they doing in Asmeru? Terrorizing the populace I'm sure."

"I don't know about that, but he did mention that they had some pretty 'interesting' connections now."

"What does that mean?" Cidran asked.

"How should I know? But, it got me to thinking."

"Uh oh. I've heard that before. What are you up to now, Bex?"

"You remember our promise about Krem?"

"Of course I do. What do these pirates have to do with that?"

"Well, as pirates, we'd have a lot more freedom, and resources, to find Tinra." Bexley did his best to sound enticing.

"I don't know if I like your train of thought here, Bex."

"Oh, come on, Cid! This is Krem's brother we've found! You don't think that happened by accident do you? The fates are definitely leading us in that direction. Johanus gave us an open invitation. And...he said that he'd even help us find Tinra and take her down. What do you say?"

"Bex, I can't believe the stuff you talk me into. Oh, OK! I'm in. Now what?"

"Well, we should try to take our LiN's with us."

"Ummm, Bex?" Cidran calmly paused. "Are you crazy?" he said, not so calmly. "Don't you think Vice Admiral Tremmel will miss two TIE/ln's and come looking for them? In case you've forgotten, he's not too crazy about pirates and even less crazy about missing equipment. Besides, how would we get them out of the Pakunni system, they don't have a hyperdrive. Or have you forgotten?"

"Relax, Cid. Don't you think I've thought about all of that?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"I have it all figured out!" Bexley finally took another bite of his soup and looked around. Swallowing, he leaned forward a little more. "Here's what we're gonna do...."

Ghosts on parade, Angel thought. That was what it was like to watch from the observation deck aboard the Mon Calamari Cruiser Morning Star. They had started moving the night before, transferring bag after bag, equipment locker after equipment locker from the Regis to the Star. She had flown her X-wing over first, giving Tone the chance to complain in private before everyone had to listen to it.

Sighing, she leaned her head against the transparisteel girder that supported the large portal window. It was cool against her skin, the vacuum of space seeping through like a last laugh. Blue-green eyes looked up to the ship hovering just a few klicks off their bow. It sat like an L-shaped toy above the stars below it, suspended in time and space by the memories attached to it by spindles of longing and nostalgia.

She felt the massive open-space around her. The Morning Star was huge and the room it provided was obvious even when she wasn't looking around. She could feel it; it was the way the recycled air had a slight breeze to it, wafting from vents and rolling gently across bare floors. The bittersweet metallic air assailed her senses in every way and felt different somehow. It didn't take to her chilled skin like it did on the Regis.

Her quarters were larger as well. Her sleeping area was almost sectioned off from Vape. While it was nice to have the privacy, she felt alarmingly more alone from it.

The portal windows seemed too large, too able to suck anything through it. And the hangar bay was too big, too many ships, she thought. She would hate having to run...really run...to get to her fighter in a scramble.

She'd seen the new B-wings for Blue as they came in. They were massive and frightening...and slow. They reminded her of sitting in a family hovercar. All though the ship's reinforced durasteel around her would have provided more protection, the A-wing's cockpit allowed for more narrow close calls with blaster bolts intersecting her torso. She was glad that it was Blue that was now the Heavy Assault Squadron and not Red, otherwise she'd be one of the ones transferring too.

Some of her friends had transferred: Leo, Lobo, Lonewolf...and Schmitty, her wingman, was one of them. She'd miss him in ways she didn't understand. Perhaps it would be odd having to cover Ranger. He was so much more important of an officer than her. Yet, he would be giving his life's security over to her. It was a warm thought, if a silly one. A smile creased her lips. The little stuffed Ewok he'd find in the cockpit of his fighter on his next patrol would probably earn her a small reprimand, or several more patrols, but she couldn't let it go. The note she'd handwritten; the note she had found actual paper for had said "At least I'm a better wing than this...you hope."

This was a new world, a new adventure. Angel knew that, for the Blues, this was a solemn affair, but she'd make them smile. Perhaps it would be the red-sheets on their beds, or the roses she'd dipped in blue. Things would move on, she knew that.

As the patrols passed by her window she waved. She knew they couldn't see her, but she waved anyway. All eras come to an end. Their passing is always mourned, but maybe a new era would fill them all with smiles again.

Turning away from the portal she leaned against the girder, hands clasped behind her back in a wistful manner. For a few moments she stood there, remembering, planning, and plotting. Then she headed off to put plans into action.

The shuttle was crowded; filled with pilots, mechanics, tactical staff, and pretty much everyone who was being transferred to the Star. Biggs was glad when it landed in the Hanger Bay and the ramp opened to allow them to get off.

As soon as he stepped foot onto the deckplates, he looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary until he caught sight of something in one of the storage berths of the hanger. Gasping out loud, he dropped his bag and ran to the object of his intake, shaking his head. "What in the world is my ship doing here!?!" he yelled, bringing attention from everyone in the area.

"I convinced the military that it would be, uh, 'wise' for them to allow your ship to be berthed here, given that there is room for it."

Rob spun and saw Trixel behind him, a smile on her face. "You? But, how? Why?"

The two had begun to grow very close as friends over the past few weeks, and Rob actually found himself entertaining the idea of more coming from the relationship. But he had pushed the thought away. However, in all the time he had known her, he still had difficulty reading her expressions.

"Because I wanted to see you smile; to see at least some sense of happiness in being transferred to this new ship." She gave him a more open smile. "You need to cheer up and think of the good things, such as now having a bigger room."

"How do you know that? Never mind," he added immediately.

Despite himself he smiled slightly and looked at her. "Thank you. And who knows," he said, turning around and look at the rest of the hanger, "I might come to enjoy it here."

I just hope that I can adapt as quickly to the Star as I did to the Regis.

Tourniquet trundled up to Hans as he dropped his duffel bag on the flight deck of the Morning Star. Patting the droid on the dome, the pilot sighed. "So this is what we'll be flying? Didn't ever think I'd end up a pig-driver."

Tourniquet tootled hesitantly.

"B-Wing? Don't worry, Tourney. I'd rather fly this beast with you in the backseat than fly alone in the B-Wing."

Kneeling next to the little droid Hans looked in his photoreceptor, "I'm gonna keep you around until they make me get a B-Wing." Tourniquet whistled angrily. "No, I'm not going to get rid of you. It's not like I could if I wanted to. Huh?" Tourney beeped an enthusiastic agreement. "No, I want you to take care of Meghan for me. Okay?" The abrasive little astromech beeped an affirmative.

"Good now let's take a look at this pig and see what we want to change and what needs fixed. I want this baby running like our old X-Wing. And I don't trust these mechanics to do it right." The black and silver droid made a shrieking, grinding noise that told everyone in the hangar bay what he thought about the crew mechanics' abilities.

"Thought so, let's get started." The two worked completely oblivious to everyone and everything around them. The solitary pair had changed homes and families more times than they cared to remember. As far as Tourniquet was concerned he could go the rest of his existence only knowing Hans, his fiancée Meghan, and the ship's computer onboard the Y'shua's Grace. Lobo knew that he needed to go and meet everybody else in Blue, but he just didn't feel like it at the moment. He needed time alone so he could think about and pray for Meghan. It'd been a long time since they'd last seen each other and he missed her so much that he thought his heart was going to rip itself out of his chest. Working on his fighter was the only sure way he could get the time he needed.

In the back of his mind he still didn't know why he'd transferred to the Blues, he hated these slow bombers. And he hated that once he got assigned to a B-Wing he wouldn't be able to fly with Tourniquet anymore. That above anything else was why he felt sick about gong to the bombers. He hated the thought of going into combat without his little back-seater in tow. But as was his nature, if somebody had to do it, it might as well be him.

Banishing the unwanted thoughts from his mind he went back to going over his new fighter. He'd have plenty of time to think about his decision and meet his new squad, right now all he wanted to think about was his fiancée and how to squeeze every ounce of power and speed out of the antiquated piece of junk they had him flying. Maybe he could get Meghan to find some parts to improve its performance...

Ranger was saddened by the transfer requests placed by the pilots volunteering to go over to Blue. They were all good pilots and Red would miss them. But they would still be on the same ship and he was sure that Red would have to save them a few times as they strolled along in a war zone. Oh yes! They would be supplying Red's drinks for a while!

He was also glad there wouldn't be any more need for Red pilots to get in one of those death traps people liked to call Y-Wings!

He took a long look over his shoulder as his A-Wing shot out of the Regis' hangar. "At least I get regular trips back there to look at the Trainees," he thought. "The Regis has been my home for so long...I thought the only way I would be leaving was in a box or retirement."

Ranger tore his eyes away from the familiar L shaped ship and looked at the organically bumped craft in front of him. At that moment the sun crested the planet over which the transfer was taking place and its light hit the Morning Star. "Pretty. I'm sure she will be a fine ship, but she will never be the Regis."

Throttling down, Ranger smoothly brought his A-Wing through the Hangar's MagCon field and then followed the instructions of the baton-waving crewman who guided him down to where he was supposed to land.

After getting out of his flight gear and stowing it in his new locker Ranger walked over to one of the data terminals and flicked it on. He keyed up the ship's inventory and started a search. "Not many sims on this tub! But I suppose the Regis was a training vessel and the Morning Star is more combat orientated. Still, they should have more sims for mission prep. I'll have to talk to Zoom about that."

After he got his bearings for all the important places; simulators, quarters, briefing rooms, etc., he decided to head to the bar. It was much bigger than The Mug and there was a huge aquarium that made up the wall behind the bar tender. There were also large transparisteel windows where one could get lost in the sea of stars. That combined with the way the light reflected from the aquarium's water onto the curved walls made you feel like you were in a fish tank. Ranger just hoped that the effect wouldn't make him sea sick.

Target couldn't believe the Happy Jack was gone. For many years it was his home and now he felt stuck aboard a Mon Cal starship, the CRS Morning Star. The design of the Morning Star was too artistic for him. There were too many curves and bubbles and stuff like that. It didn't have the comforting, gritty feel of a Star Destroyer he had grown accustomed to. He just didn't feel safe aboard such an alien vessel.

However, he liked the idea of working with another squad. He also liked the fact that the new Blue Squadron would have a dedicated heavy assault mission. Since he liked flying the tough new B-wing, the mission would be right down his alley. And, from what he heard, the Red boys would be providing cover for the Blue's on their assault runs.

The odd, and yet welcome, thing is that several of the Red's had transferred into his squadron. It will be nice to have a complete or near complete squadron again, he thought. Perhaps the oddest thing is my new wingman; Steve Michadick, or Schmitty, as he is more widely known, is an older, experienced pilot. While I feel comfortable knowing there is an experienced eye keeping my back, I kind of feel threatened. Do they think of me as such a green pilot that I need an oldie like Schmitty to keep me out of trouble? I'd like to think no; but, at the same time, I can't help but wonder.

Paul stepped off the shuttle onto the flight deck of the Morning Star and inhaled deeply through his nostrils. There was still the fragrance of fresh paint in the air that had not yet been tainted with the smell that of starfighter engines. He looked around the hanger and saw that it was a lot smaller than the hanger they had on the Happy Jack, but that was to be expected. Things would be changing. With a sigh, he picked up his bags and headed for the personnel officer to locate his new quarters.

His suite was about the same size as the one he used to have aboard the Jack. Again, he had this room to himself. Taking a look around the room, he nodded. It was large and had all the luxuries he expected on a military ship...none. But it would serve its purpose: a place to rest and to be alone. The room would be acceptable. He dumped his flight bag on his bed and decided to look around his new home.

He managed to find the bar without too much wandering by just following his nose to the smell of alcohol. To his surprise, Dargon, the bar tender from the Happy Jack, had survived and was now the bartender here on the Star. That fact wasn't mentioned in any of the briefings, but it made Paul feel a little bit more at ease to have part of his old home come with him.

He noticed that a few of Red's pilots had also found the bar and were talking about their new posting and the fact that some of their squad mates had decided to transfer over to Blue Squadron. Paul didn't know how many or which ones yet. Dobber would tell him sooner or later. Judging by their tone, Paul decided not to go over and join them just yet. A few of them didn't seem too thrilled to be here either. One of them even seemed particularly unfriendly, but Paul didn't give it much thought. The fact that some of their squad had transferred to Blue made the changes that much harder for them to digest. He knew that it would all settle in eventually, so he stepped up to the bar and ordered his first drink.

As he sat down with his drink, he reflected on the recent events that had befallen Blue Squadron. They lost their command ship and their home. The squadron had been turned into a bomber unit with the promise of getting new B-Wing Starfighter/Bombers and pilots to fly them. A few pilots had transferred from Red Squadron into theirs and command promised they'd be getting more bodies to get Blue back to full strength. Some major changes had happened in a short amount time and he wondered if this would be the last major change coming the squadron's way. But, who knows what the future would hold?

Chapter 3

Thane Xanderif, or Gaar Nesmil as he had gone by for the past couple of months, stepped onto the shuttle. His work here was done and now he had only to make it downside and meet his extraction team. He was used to undercover work behind enemy lines, but was beginning to worry that his luck wouldn't hold out too much longer. After all, the Empire was getting smaller and smaller. Sooner or later he'd run into someone that would recognize him. Taking a seat, he brushed the thought aside. This particular mission was just about over.

As Gaar Nesmil, Thane's mission was to gain access to the shield generator systems and insert the time delayed code the New Republic slicers worked up. At a specified time the code would destabilize NL-1's shields, which would force them to be taken down in order for the techs to go through system checks. When that happens, the code will delete itself. Only the best slicers would be able to find the "footprint" that would be left behind.

Fortunately, NL-1 didn't have top line slicers assigned.

When the shields are taken down for the checks, New Republic ships will come in and disable the rest of the facility's systems with ion cannons and take it over.

As an added bonus, Thane was able to determine the schedule of the drills of the small contingent of starships assigned to protect the facility. He had been surreptitiously watching Vice Admiral Devin Tremmel during his time on the facility. During that time he came to know a lot about how the commander of the VSD operated. That information would really help the assault force the New Republic had to pull this mission off. Thane just hoped that he would be able to get it to them in time.

So far, things had gone just as planned. He was on the shuttle that would take him down to Pakunni where he would meet up with a Bothan dressed all in white. He would then deliver the code phrase and they would head to the local spaceport. NRI was supposed to have transportation off planet all ready to go. From there he wasn't sure where he would go. Most likely, it would be to a debriefing and then on to his next mission.

With a click of his safety harness, the New Republic Intelligence officer was on his way.

"Welcome to the Morning Star," Lt. Livse Serule, the Morning Star's personnel officer, said to the formation standing in front of her. She was the only one on the Morning Star that had met every being serving on the cruiser. As the personnel officer, it was her job to not only select the ship's crew, but also to meet them when they came aboard and get them all settled in. Over the past several weeks, as the ship was slowly being staffed, Livse had been feeling overwhelmed at the amount of work it took to staff up a cruiser of this size. After all, this job was supposed to be a desk job for her. However, with all of the little problems here and there, she was busier than ever.

Several shuttles had landed just moments ago bringing a variety of new crew members to the cruiser. Serule was happy to be greeting this latest batch because this one included her staff.

Although it was almost impossible to notice any changes in Serule's facial features, it was not hard to tell how excited she was. Not a single person even had time to finish a response to her welcome statement before she went on about how excited she was that they had arrived. Of course, she coupled her feelings with the standard diatribe about the new cruiser and how fortunate they all were to be serving on such a vessel. Time and again one of the new crewmembers would attempt to make a comment, or a joke, but Serule just went on and on.

Finally, when it seemed that she had run out of things to say, one of the humans jumped in and asked about their quarters.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, of course." Serule replied. "Well, most of you will be given quarters on the living quarters' deck. We've made every attempt to put you with someone in your own section. However, if you wish, you may request a room reassignment."

She looked down at the datapad she was holding for the first time. "Now, when I call your name, please step forward...Kenny Fields." She looked up to see a young man step forward, then continued, "Talin'Dar, Shukai Afee, Yidoha Kogtuv, and Joon Hur." All five had stepped forward. "You flight cadets will be taking the shuttle over to the Frigate Regis. There, you will meet with Lieutenant Elison. He will show you to your assigned rooms and around your new home. Following the tour, you will report to the pilot briefing room where you will meet the Training Officer's of Red and Blue Squadron. They will be in charge of your flight training. Once you attain the rank of Flight Officer and are assigned to either Red Squadron or Blue Squadron, you will be transferred to the Morning Star with the rest of your squadron. Are there any questions?"

Serule only paused a second. "Great! At this time, please reboard the shuttle."

As the five pilots were walking away from the group, Serule called out a few others from the group and informed them that they, too, would be serving on the Frigate Regis. Since several of the Regis' crew had volunteered to serve on the Morning Star, there were slots that Livse had to fill over there as well.

She continued to call name after name from her datapad. With each name called, a hand was raised, at which the lieutenant would give a short welcome and then direct him or her to their next check-in point. The group assembled before her grew steadily smaller until there were only four left, three humans and a Sullustan.

All four of the remaining people were dressed in the same uniform. It was one of the new uniforms for the New Republic consisting of highly starched solid black trousers, a long sleeve white dress jacket that had no collar and a low v-neck underneath which was a black straight collared shirt, a red over-the-shoulder sash that held the person's rank as well as the symbol of the Alliance, and around the outside of the jacket was a black belt. On the collar of the black shirts were the rank insignias. All were pilots.

"Ah," Serule said, "you must be the replacements for Blue Squadron." Even as she said it she knew that she may have hit a nerve. She could see the look of surprise in their eyes like an animal suddenly caught in a bright light. Pilots did not like to be thought of as "replacements". That usually meant that someone had to have died for them to be there. It was not a pleasant thought.

"I'm sorry. Let me rephrase that...you must be the new pilots that Blue Squadron has been looking forward to." With that the pilots' eyes returned to normal and a smile came to their faces. Serule allowed herself to relax and look down at the datapad.

"Flight Officer Gianni 'Gustan' Martino."

The young man stepped forward and saluted. "Reporting as ordered," he said before smartly dropping his hand back to his side.

"At ease, Officer Martino," she told him without returning the salute. It was not out of disrespect that she didn't return the salute; it was only because she hadn't actually looked up from the datapad to see him salute her. Without hesitation she called out the next name.

A sweet sounding human female voice replied to her name being called. "Flight Officer Sara 'Red' Ayana, present and accounted for." She then stepped up next to Martino. When Serule looked down at her datapad again, Sara glanced at the man next to her. She could see that something was troubling him, but thought that right now wouldn't be the best time to ask him about it. Silently, she decided to attempt to talk to him later. She was always one to help a person in need; and Martino looked like he fit the bill.

"Wonderful," Serule offered. "Next, I have here Flight Officer Nuba 'Sonic' Pek."

The female Sullustan pilot stepped forward.

"And finally, Flight Officer Mike..." she looked up at the man questioningly as if to say "how do you pronounce your name?" But the man acted like he did not know who she was looking at and turned to look around to see to whom she could be talking. As if he didn't see anyone else, or that he assumed she was talking to someone else, he returned to his forward stare and awaited his name to be called.

Bringing the datapad closer to her face, Lt. Serule studied the name for another few seconds with a look of frustration. After a few seconds the look of frustration turned to one of consternation. It was obvious that she was attempting to remember something. Then, abruptly, she dropped the datapad to its carrier on her side and brought up her comlink with her other hand.

"If you would excuse me for a moment?" she asked the four pilots remaining in front of her before turning around and taking a few steps away.

Martino had a look of surprise with the hint of worry on his face. The worry was so slight and lasted only for a split second that none of the others noticed it. "What do you think is going on?" he asked the woman standing next to him.

Ayana just shrugged her shoulders.

Serule returned to stand in front of them and apologized for the interruption. "Flight Officers Martino, Ayana, and Pek, I am going to send a representative from Blue Squadron to show you to your quarters. You will be required to attend an Incoming briefing tomorrow at 0800. Until then, please feel free to make your way around and familiarize yourself with your new home."

She then pointed to the fourth officer in line. "You, please follow me." Without another word, she turned and began walking towards the nearest hatch.

Once they were out of the hangar Lt. Serule slowed down for the man following her to catch up. As he stepped in pace with her she turned and asked him a question.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

The man seemed surprised at the question. At the same time a deep sadness welled up inside of him as he began to answer. "I did."

"Oh. I'm sorry," she offered. "I didn't mean to bring up any old wounds." It also occurred to her that perhaps she was wrong about him and immediately stopped. When he too stopped, she turned and, again, asked another question that she was sure would be difficult for him to answer. But she had to know now before she went any further. "I hate to ask, but could you tell me what happened to your family?"

The man was a mix of emotions. After gazing at the floor for what seemed like forever as he worked to hold back the tears that he thought he had gotten over a long time ago, he found the strength to lift his head and answer. "Well, fortunately, my parents are still alive. At least, the last bit of information that I had on them said that they were still alive. They were captured and sold to slavers on Coruscant shortly after deciding to join the Rebellion."

Livse shook her head. It was the type of story that was all too common among the many people fighting for the New Republic. "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps we'll..."

"Find them?" he said, completing her sentence. "That is one of my goals."

"I can understand that," she said. "But, you said that you had brothers and sisters?"

"Yes, I had an older brother." His eyes began to moisten. "At the time that my parents were captured, he was a student at the Imperial Academy on Carida, where we were from. I don't know what happened exactly, but I was told that his ship was destroyed as he attempted to leave the system." He blinked as a tear rolled half way down his cheek and then fell to the floor. Using the back of his sleeve, he wiped his face dry and allowed anger to well up inside of him as it always did when he thought about what had happened to his brother. The anger he was feeling slowly creped onto his face and his features hardened. It also flowed into his voice as he added, "The Empire is responsible and I intend to make them pay."

Again, Livse could see the same pain on the man's face that she had seen in so many others'. But then a new question came to her and a speck of hope filled her heart. "How much older was your brother?"

"About four years."

She nodded and reached for her datapad. It has to be him, she thought to herself after reviewing the information before her eyes. Putting the datapad away again, she placed her hand on the man's shoulder and beckoned him to continue to follow her. "I think there is someone I want you to meet."

A few corridors later she stopped again outside a hatch. It was fairly noisy on the other side of the door, so he assumed that they were now outside either the dinning hall or some sort of crew lounge.

"This is the Morning Star's lounge. As I'm sure you know, just about everyone comes here at some point. The person that I'd like you to met is inside, I'm told."

"After you," he gestured.

He followed her through the doorway and was impressed at the flowing design of the interior of the large room. It looked like there wasn't a single hard edge or straight angle to be seen. The lighting was just barely adequate, but what really made it unique was the blue tint and the way the light waves were manipulated to appear as if the entire room was underwater. Even the view ports in which people could sit and dine or drink or just spend time made it look like you were in a bowl and looking out into the galaxy of stars.

"Interesting design," he said.

She replied with an explanation about how the Mon Calamari engineers wanted to bring a little piece of home with them. As she spoke she scanned the room. It didn't take her long to find the person she was looking for. "This way," she said.

They walked up to a table that was not against the wall, but was close to one of the larger view port windows. Seated there were several people dressed in civilian attire. Mike felt a little out of place when he noticed that there were not too many people in the room in uniform. However, as the nearest person at the table looked up at them, it suddenly didn't matter what he was wearing.

"Lieutenant Michadick, I have someone here that you may know," Serule addressed the man slowly standing up.

"It can't be," Schmitty said as he looked at the man standing next to the Morning Star's personnel officer. The other man stood there, apparently in shock.

"It can be," Livse answered. "Lieutenant Michadick, I'd like to introduce you to one of Blue Squadron's newest pilots: Flight Officer Mike "Switch" Michadick...your brother." The rest of the people sitting at the table were just as shocked as Mike.

"I thought you were dead!" they said in unison as they embraced. After a long moment the two reunited brothers stepped back and regarded one another with moist eyes.

"When mom and dad were taken on Coruscant no one knew what happened to you," Steve said. "I searched, but couldn't find you. After a long time, I assumed you were dead."

"Well, as you can see, I'm not dead," the younger brother laughed.

"Yes, and I also see you're a pilot. What are you doing on the Morning Star?"

Serule cleared her throat. "Um, Lieutenant? Did you not hear me when I intro..."

"I'm being stationed on the Morning Star and assigned to Blue Squadron," Mike cut her off. "I've been told that they were hit pretty hard and almost half of the squadron will be made up of new pilots, like myself. I'm really hoping to be able to get into one of those new B-Wings I've heard about. So, what do you do here?"

"That's pretty funny."

Mike got a confused look on his face. "How is that funny?" he asked.

"It's just funny how things work out. I'm also a pilot in Blue Squadron," Steve said with a chuckle.

"No way!" Mike exclaimed.

"Yup! I just transferred from Red Squadron yesterday. What's even funnier is that I'll be flying one of our B-Wings!"

Steve turned to make sure that there was room at the table at which he had been sitting, then gestured to his brother and Lieutenant Serule to have a seat.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, but I have to get my new staff situated. Will you be able to show your brother around the ship?" Livse asked.

"Sure, no problem."

"Thank you," Serule said and then turned to Mike. "Flight Officer Michadick, you will be assigned to cabin 8. Currently, you will be the only person in the room, but we have some incoming Flight Officers for Red Squadron, one of which will be placed in cabin 8 with you. Lieutenant Michadick, I assume you will also show him to his cabin?"

"Roger that, Lieutenant." Steve answered.

With that, Serule turned and left the lounge.

Steve put his arm around his brother, who was now sitting next to him and began to introduce him to the rest of the people sitting around the table. "Mike, I'd like to introduce you to my closest friends: this," he said as he pointed across the table, "is 1st Lieutenant Rob 'Biggs' Baden. Rob is also my cabinmate."

"I hope you're not too much like your brother," Rob said as he held out his hand in greeting. "'Cause I don't know if I can take another Michadick."

"Ha ha. Very funny, Rob." Steve countered.

Rob looked at Steve trying to keep a straight face. He was very good at doing so and it was that ability to keep a straight face that made it difficult to tell when he was joking and when he was serious. In this case, after Rob saw the change of look on Steve's face that let him know that, again, he had the older man wondering just how serious he really was, Rob turned to the younger Michadick and smiled. "Seriously, glad to meet you, Mr. Michadick."

Mike shook his hand and replied, "I see my brother hasn't really changed over the years. Still irritating people."

Steve ignored his brother's comment and continued, "and, next to Rob is newly promoted Captain Chelsey 'Vape' Maxfield."

"Very nice to meet you, Mike." Chelsey offered.

"Likewise, Captain Maxfield."

"Please," she smiled, "call me Chelsey, or by my callsign: Vape. By the way, do you have a callsign yet? Or do we get to come up with one for you?"

Mike nodded acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. I'm still used to using formal rank and last name. And, yes. I do already have a callsign. They call me Switch. It's from the network stuff I used to do."

Steve completed the introductions by introducing the woman sitting to his left. "And this is Flight Officer Jeni 'Angel' Courtner, but don't let the callsign fool you...she's no angel."

"Hey!" Jeni jabbed Steve in the ribs. "Don't be fillin' him with bad thoughts about me already!" She put her hand up to her mouth and giggled. "Let him find that out for himself," she said, almost under her breathe.

She then threw her hand up in greeting. "Glad to meet you, Switch. Since your big brother already let the cat out of the bag, I'm the big trickster slash self appointed morale booster around here."

Mike cautiously took her hand and replied. "Ummm, I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"So, Schmitty here..." Jeni began.

"Schmitty?" Mike asked, cutting her off.

Steve answered. "Yes, Schmitty is my callsign." At the confused and somewhat amused look on his brother's face he added, "It's a long story. I'll fill you in later."

Suddenly there were sounds of chairs being knocked over and tempers flaring from behind them. Steve turned around just as the fists started flying. He was disappointed to see that the fight was between a group of Red Squadron pilots and three of the original Blue pilots. A closer look revealed that Lobo and Lonewolf were also in the fray. However, neither really had decided on which side to fight, so they tried to stop it. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. He saw one of his new squad mates, Rogue take a punch to his cheek before his attacker received a kick to the stomach by Zoz. Steve was afraid to think of just who that attacker was.

With emotions and tensions running high, this sort of thing was to be expected. Still, Steve hated to see it happen to the people he considered his family. I hope this doesn't last too long and everyone learns to enjoy a bigger family. I'm gonna get tired of breaking up fights real quick. Even though he now had part of his real family back, he knew that he had to break this fight up...and fast.

"Ok, guys, let's break this party up," he said as he and Biggs began to pull friends off of friends.

Andrew sat behind his new desk in his rather uncomfortable chair. He had a long first day on the Morning Star. Not only did he get the full tour, which included his new office and large command suite, he got four pilots transferring from Red Squadron, a new XO, and found out that command was sending him more pilots. He thought it ironic that one of them was the brother of one of the pilots that transferred from Red. He didn't know if that was going to be a good thing or not. Only time would tell.

On top of all of that, he already had to deal with fighting among the two fighter squadrons. Just this morning there was another brawl in the lounge. Now he found himself holding his first meeting with one of his pilots, which was also involved in the fight, on their new ship. The subject of this meeting was not one that he had looked forward to, but as a commander there were tuff choices to make for the good of the squad.

"If you must know the truth, Paul, I didn't choose you as my new Executive Officer because I wanted to tie in firm relations with Red. You know as well as I do that it'll be a bumpy ride for the next year or so."

"I know, Andrew," Paul said as he rubbed his swollen cheek. "And that's OK with me if you appointed Leo as the new XO, but everything just seems weird...."

"True," replied Andrew, pondering what to say next. After taking a second to compose his thoughts, he continued. "Let me put it to you this way... I chose Leo because I don't want to make the same mistake that happened last time when we were still flight officers. Even though history has a tendency to repeat itself in one way or another, I don't want to make the same mistakes. I want to keep this unit alive, even if I go down trying. There have already been fights between the Blues and Reds, as you can attest. The simulation pods are and will be prime hotspots for it too. You've flown one mission with the Reds, and you know what they're like when it comes to the Regis. I'm gonna miss the X-wings though. They're my favorite..."

"I know, Andrew. I just hope you did the right thing. Sometimes I wish that Robert was still here... or Brian, Haemon, or Ryan..."

"Me too, Paul. Me too."

Chapter 4

As a Rodian, Shukai Afee noticed when growing up how the Empire treated non-humans like second class citizens and that it was not uncommon for groups of them to be rounded up on the whim of an Imperial officer for "questioning". Usually, those taken were never seen again. Then, one day while he was talking to his friends, it happened to Shukai. Two Imperial Troop Transports came thundering down the street and came to a sudden halt when they were next to Shukai and his group. Stormtroopers poured out of both vehicles, blasters levelled at them. One of Shukai's friends started to protest about what was happening he got a rifle butt in the face for his troubles.

They where taken to the local Imperial base for interrogation. Shukai was questioned by an Imperial Officer who wanted to know where he was the previous week. Apparently, an Imperial Commander had been attacked by someone, and now the Imperials where going about trying to find the attackers. Every time Shukai gave an answer that his interrogator didn't like he was either slapped or punched him. After several hours of this, he was dragged from the room and released. There was no apology or explanation. Shukai was just dumped outside the base.

Several of Shukai's friends were also outside waiting. They, too, had been beaten during questioning. When two Stormtroopers threw another of their group out, they were all told to move on. Shukai told the troopers that one of their group was still inside, and that they were waiting on him. One of the troopers unemotionally stated that Shukai's friend died during interrogation. Without another word, both Stormtroopers turned and went back inside.

The news of the young alien's death spread quickly through the town. Pretty soon a large crowd was gathering outside the Imperial base. The crowd was shouting that the Imperials were murderers and fascists. The gates to the base opened and the Imperial Commander came out, flanked by a dozen Stormtroopers, all of whom had their blasters at the ready. The commander was half way through telling the crowd to leave before they would be forcibly removed when a blaster bolt hit him square in the chest. There was a look of surprise on the Imperial's face for a second before his eyes rolled up and his body collapsed to the floor.

The Stormtroopers opened fire, sending bolt after bolt into the crowd. Instead of fleeing, though, the crowd surged forward towards the Stormtroopers. The twelve Stormtroopers were overwhelmed. Their blasters were taken by the crowd and put to use against the two tower guards that had also started to fire into the crowd of protesters. News of the assault on the Imperial base seemed to galvanise the entire town, as more and more people joined in the assault. After several hours of bloody fighting, the town folks had overrun the Imperial base. Any Imperials that had the misfortune to be taken prisoner where shown no mercy. It was the first time that Shukai witnessed mob mentality.

Later that day, Shukai was resting on a wrecked troop transport, his ribs still sore from the beating he received earlier, when the first turbo laser bolt smashed into one of the buildings in the town. Turbo laser fire rained down on the town, turning buildings into flaming piles of rubble. For over an hour the Imperial Star Destroyers in orbit bombarded the town below. When it was over, there was silence. Nothing moved or made a sound. Shukai had taken shelter in a crater early on during the attack, but now the scene before him looked like one of utter hell. Smoke was rising from what was left of the town and all around him were the bodies of the town's folk.

The sound of an approaching landing craft snapped Shukai out of his trance and he ran as quickly as he could manage back home. When he got there, all that remained of his home was a smouldering pile of rubble. Tears flowed down his cheeks as the weight of what had happened hit home.

Picking himself up off the ground Shukai swore a promise to his dead family to try and stop the Imperials ever doing that to anyone again. He headed to the spaceport in the next town, and after negotiating passage on a ship left his home world. His purpose was now to join the Rebellion and make the Empire pay for their actions.

After several months of searching, Shukai managed to make contact with a Rebel cell. He was taken to one of their many secret training facilities and, there, he was asked which part of the service he would like to do. Shukai responded immediately that he wanted to be a fighter pilot. When asked why, his answer was simple: to stop the Empire from doing to anyone else what they did to him; to make sure that their capital ships never got the chance to do anything like that again.

Shukai's training went as well as could be expected. He showed a natural talent for strike/bombing missions. Normally, that would upset a new pilot, but suited Shukai just fine since it would get him into a fighter that carried the type of weapons needed to destroy Imperial capital ships. He would get his chance for justice.

And now here he was: a pilot with the prestigious Frigate Regis. Well, he wasn't actually a full pilot just yet. He still had some training to do. Fortunately, for him, he only had a few more flight hours to go before he was eligible to take his final evaluation. Then he would be a full combat pilot in Blue Squadron.

Standing with him on the hangar floor of Regis was a mixed group. On the shuttle to the Morning Star they had introduced themselves to each other. Tal'inDar, a light blue skinned male Twi'lek with the callsign Talon, was gruff, but friendly. He said that he was a veteran freighter pilot and that he had been an Imperial slave for years. He then showed everyone the tattoos on his body and lekku. They were mostly Imperial in nature because his owners found it amusing to brand him with Imperial markings. He said that he left them there as a reminder of what he is fighting for. He had also added a few personal ones, but he didn't explain them to anyone.

Also in the group was Yidoha Kogtuv. At 54 standard years, she was, by far, the oldest of the group. She admitted to being one of the elusive Anzati, and that it was one of the reasons for her joining the Alliance. "This grants Yidoha the opportunity of equal rites," she told the group. "Also, unlike most of my kin, I prefer order to chaos and would rather "hunt" Imperials and those deserving punishment rather than innocents." About that time, the group was offered a snack on the shuttle.

"I must take a 'soup' supplement with meals in order to curb my hunger for sentient sustenance," Yidoha told them as she reached into one of her bags.

"We'll call you Souper," Shukai suggested. Everyone else agreed and the name stuck.

To Shukai's surprise, he wasn't the only Rodian in the group. Joon Hur, who went by the name Hunter, was also a Rodian. He had told everyone that he was born and raised on Nar Shaddaa, the smuggler's moon. Like most Rodian's, he craved the hunt. But, Joon told them, he did not wish the early death that bounty hunting normally delivers. Instead he learned how to fly various freighters and finally Z-95 Headhunters and Cloakshape fighters.

Once Joon explored some of the galaxy on his own and learned of what the Empire was doing to millions of innocent people, he signed up for the Alliance. Like the rest of the group, he was assigned to the Red Training Section to teach him how to fly the trusty craft of the Alliance.

Even in the short time they had spent on the shuttles getting to the CRS Morning Star and Frigate Regis, the group was able to see that Joon was a bit of a clown and liked to brag about tales from his past, greatly exaggerated of course. Still, Shukai was glad to have a fellow Rodian to talk to in his native language since neither one of them could speak Basic all that well.

Of the group, Kenny "Rain" Fields was the only human. He enjoyed listening to his fellow pilots and their stories, but he tended to keep to himself. He was quiet and reserved. Unlike the others, he didn't feel the need to tell everyone about his past or how he came to be a pilot in the New Republic. He was just there to fly the best he could and stay alive. To him, it was a living, although his parents tried to warn him that fighter pilots didn't live very long. He was determined to prove them wrong; not out of spite, but pride, of which he had in excess.

Kenny kept quiet in this group because he learned at a young age that bragging did not gain him friends. Back then he thought that because he was the best at whatever he tried to do he had the right to let everyone else know it. Sure, he won at every game he played. He was the best athlete. But, the other kids learned to keep their distance from Kenny. It didn't take him long to figure out that he would be much less lonely if he kept his boasting to himself.

Kenny had no doubt that he was the best pilot of the group. He looked forward to advancing through his training quickly and serving in the famous Red Squadron and flying the fastest fighter in the fleet, the A-wing. The difference was that, now, he would keep that all to himself.

From across the hangar three men walked over to the group. Not too far behind them was another group of three. Shukai was glad to see that, of the six walking towards them, one of them was a Bothan. The more Shukai saw of the New Republic the better he liked it. He knew that he would never see this many non-Humans in the Empire, that is unless they were slaves.

The group stopped in front of them. One of the men in front introduced himself. "Welcome, recruits. I am Lieutenant Jax Elison. I am the personnel officer here on the Regis. I'll be showing you to your assigned cabins and then around the ship. If you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them as we go."

The group of new pilots all nodded in acknowledgment. None had a question.

"Ok," Elison continued, "this is Major Neill 'Ranger' Magill. He is Red Squadron's XO and Training Officer. Next to him is Captain Paul "Rogue" Sweet. He is Blue Squadron's Training Officer. Both of them will be directing your training here aboard the Regis. When they can not be here, you will report to me."

Elison turned to Magill. "Major, is there anything you would like to add?"

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Magill said. He then turned to the cadets. "Welcome to the Regis, cadets. I trust that all got to know one another on your way here. One of the things Captain Sweet and I will attempt to teach you is how to work and fly as a team. So, if you don't already, get to know each other. Learn what makes each other tick. The sooner you can do this, the better."

Captain Sweet continued. "The Major and I will be showing you to your quarters, the chow hall, the briefing room, and the place where you will be living for the foreseeable future...the sims. Sim training begins at 0700 tomorrow, so hit the racks and get plenty of rest. Are there any questions?"

There were none.

"OK, OK," Bexley chided. "So plans change. Relax, Cid."

"Relax? Relax? Do you realize how much trouble we could have gotten into if Alpha hadn't accidentally destroyed that freighter?" Cidran was trying, but not succeeding in keeping his temper in check. Even though they were in their quarters, it wouldn't be too difficult for a passer by to over hear him yelling at his cabinmate. The two were discussing the failure of Bexley's plan to make it look like a pirate freighter hijacked them in their TIEs during Tremmel's latest training run.

"Yes, I know, Cid. And I hate to think what Captain Chase is going to say when he finds out."

"I don't know, Bex. I'm beginning to think that joining up with the Bloody Fangs isn't such a good idea. There's got to be another way that we can get Tinra."

Bexley paced the room. As usual, he was deep in thought. His plan to make it appear that a freighter captured their TIE/lns was fouled up when Alpha's TIE Advanced fighters fired one too many torps and the freighter exploded. Tremmel had ordered it to be captured for questioning. Luckily, for Bexley and Cidran, Alpha flight was not the brightest of the bunch.

"What do you say, Bex? Can we think of something else?"

Bexley stopped in his tracks. A thought suddenly came to his mind. During the next series of training missions, Beta flight was scheduled to stay behind. That was it!

"I've got it!" exclaimed Bexley. "I know what we'll do."

"Did you even listen to me?" Cidran asked his friend.

Stepping closer to the table at which Cidran sat, Bexley lowered his voice.

"You know how we, Beta flight, have patrol duty during the next series of training missions?" Bexley asked.

Cidran nodded his head to indicate that he knew about his scheduled duty to fly patrol routes in one of the four TIE Advanced they had while Tremmel took everyone else out for training. He and Bexley were assigned to Beta flight not too long ago.

"You do realize that those TIEs have hyperdrives, right?"

Cidran's eyes grew wide as he realized what Bexley was suggesting.

"Captain Chase will surely forgive his freighter being destroyed if we can deliver two Advanced TIEs to him."

"I would think so," Cidran said, still not sure if this would be the best course for them to take.

"I'd be willing to bet Tinra's life on it!" Bexley said with a sinister tone. "Come on, Cid! Where's that guy I knew that would do anything for revenge? Or don't you care about Krem anymore?"

"Hey! That's enough! You know how much I want revenge for Krem." Cidran paused and let the anger really settle in. Then he continued in a calmer, more controlled, yet filled with malice tone. "So, you think Chase will leave them intact, or make uglies out of them?"

Bexley yelped with excitement. "Yes! Now there's the Cid I remember!"

"I'm going down to Pakunni later. I'll make contact with Johanus and get the jump coordinates."

Chapter 5

"We've just received intelligence that Vice Admiral Tremmel routinely takes his small fleet away from the facility on training missions." Commander Abodar said addressing the crews of the Morning Star and Regis. "We intend to hit the target while they are away. It has been arranged to have the facility's shields down upon our arrival in the system. Since we intend to capture the facility and not destroy it, we will be using ion cannons to take down the remaining systems. However, this will only be temporary. The Delta's will launch when the systems are nearly down and will take control. They will then return it to operational capability and raise the shields as we regroup just outside the system and prepare for the return of Tremmel's fleet. Once the Imperials return, we'll jump back in behind them and catch them off guard."

"So, to repeat, when we first enter the system here," he pointed to a point close to the holographic facility, "Blue and Red Squadron's will launch. Blue will target the facility with their ion cannons and pulse weapons to disrupt the facility's systems. Red will provide cover from any local defenses. The Morning Star and Regis will setup on either side," again he pointed to the hologram, "and help. Since we do not anticipate much enemy fighter support the Training Section fighters will support the

Regis and escort the Delta's in.

"Once the Delta's signal that they have control, we will make a short jump to regroup and change weapons configurations. When Tremmel returns, we will jump back in behind them before they discover what has happened to the facility."

The hologram flickered out to signal the end of the mission briefing.

"I realize that this is short notice and that this ship has not yet seen battle, but I and the rest of command, are confident that we can pull this off. You all have 48 hours to prepare. If there are no more questions...dismissed."

The canopy made that distinct hissing sound as the hydraulics raised it so that the pilot could get out of the simulator pod. Inside was an exuberant Rodian. Shukai, along with the rest of the training section, had finished another sim session. Each time they performed better and better. However, Ranger, as he normally did when he saw cadets getting to proud of themselves, had a couple TIE Interceptors thrown into the mix this go around. Half of the trainees were shot down. Still, Ranger was glad to see that they were working well together. Even Jackal, who had been out of the cockpit for quit a while due to his latest injury, was flying well with this group.

It was almost an on going joke for Red Squadron. Everyone had a bet on when Aaron would stay out of a bacta tank long enough to make combat status. "Ok, this one wasn't my fault," he had said when he was pulled out of the tank this last time. "That rock came out of nowhere and I didn't have my shields up yet."

Ranger took delight in rubbing in that he was only flying patrol when the rock hit his A-Wing, causing him to have to eject.

As Shukai jumped from the pod to the floor, he yelled in excitement. "It won't be long if we keep this up!"

"What do you mean?" Kenny asked.

"I mean, it won't be long until we all make combat status if we keep flying like that!"

"Oh. Yeah, maybe." Kenny enjoyed seeing his new friend so happy. Over the previous few days he and Shukai had become fast friends. And, in the sims, they flew together even better. And, even though it was clear that he was the best pilot in the group, he restrained himself from letting it go to his head.

Shukai came over to Kenny, his helmet under his left arm, and patted his wingman on the shoulder. "By the way, nice shot in there. You really saved my tail. I'm glad you're on our side."

"Thanks."

"Hey, Phantom!" It was Matthew, standing on top of the next simulator pod. "You and Aaron are to report to medical for your daily bacta bath." He burst out in a long belly laugh.

Thak's fur noticeably ruffled at the sting from his long time cabin mate. "Laugh it up, Hulk. We'll see how well you do next time you have two squints on your tail." He turned to Aaron on his left and offered an encouraging word. "Don't take him seriously. You did wonderful yesterday."

"Well, at least Delta made it aboard the facility before they got me," Yidoha chimed in. "Looks like Talon and Hunter were the only other ones to make it."

"Yeah, Joon, how'd you and Talin' finally get those squints?" Matthew asked, his laughter finally subsiding as he climbed down from the pod.

Before Talin'Dar could answer, Ranger walked up to the assembling group. As he did so, they all snapped to the position of attention.

"Ok, ok. At ease." They complied. "I must say that I am impressed that you were able to successfully complete the mission. Delta was able to land and complete their mission, in spite of the fact that I threw in a few surprises for you. Jackal and Phantom, good job on taking out those corvettes. However, you need to watch your tail. Hulk, no more suicide runs; we can't afford to replace your fighter every time you go out. Rain and Tracker, that was some great team work out there. Keep it up; it'll keep you alive longer. All of you, you're working together better and better each time we run this sim. We don't expect the amount of opposition tomorrow that I've been throwing at you, so I hope we see a better than fifty percent survival rate. And remember, your job ends when Delta makes it to NL-1. You are to stay with the Regis when we jump back in. The eight of you should be able to handle the corvettes. Let the Regis and Red take care of the Vendetta and Valiant."

In unison they answered, "Aye, aye, sir."

"Ok, now go get cleaned up and get plenty of rest. Tomorrow will be a big day."

After the trainees braced to attention and saluted, Ranger returned the salute and headed off to the shuttle returning to the Morning Star. He, too, had to prepare for the coming mission.

Chapter 6

As Dobber strapped into his Y-Wing for his first mission with his newly rebuilt squadron, he looked around. The hangar, though not quite as large as the one they had on the Happy Jack, was brimming with activity. Further to his left he saw the pilots of Red Squadron prepping their A-Wings and X-Wings. "I'll miss flying those," he said to himself. Right next to his ship was his new wingman, Flight Officer Allen, who was also strapping in. Andrew decided early on that, in the interest of building camaraderie between the original Blue's and the transfers from Red, he would pair one with the other. So, leading by example, he made Lobo his wingman. When he looked over, Dobber nodded and gave a thumbs up, then he looked around to his right at the rest of his squadron.

Rogue, with one of the new pilots, Gustan, was already lowering his canopy. Andrew felt bad that his long time friend wasn't his XO, but he knew that he would make a great Training Officer. He couldn't wait for the first graduate from the Training Section to become a Blue pilot.

Behind them, Flight Group Two were just climbing into their cockpits. Major Healey volunteered to lead the flight group with the two newest pilots, Red and Sonic. Zoz, wanting to be around the women as much as possible, was overjoyed when Leo asked him to be his wingman. Unfortunately for Zoz, Flight Officer Pek wasn't attracted to humans, and the scuttlebutt was that Flight Officer Ayana was already interested in one of the maintenance crew members, but that didn't keep him from making passes at her anyway.

Unfortunately, they did not get the new B-Wings that command had promised them yet. So, they were stuck with only the four they had already. He made 1st Lt. Michadick the lead of Flight Group Three, the B-Wings. In the sims, he and Target worked well together despite the huge difference in age. At Lt. Michadick's request, Dobber agreed to put his brother in a B as Flight Officer Barros' wingman to round out Flight Group Three. He wasn't sure if that was the best decision, or not, but he believed that it would go a long way in building a cohesive Blue squadron.

Andrew was glad to have his squadron at full strength again. It was only about a week ago that he thought his squadron's history was over. And now, here he was, ready to launch. Life was good. He pulled on his helmet and switched to the squadron channel.

"Ok, Blues. Lead here. Report by numbers."

One by one they reported in. He allowed himself a smile before returning his focus to the mission at hand. Then, with all seriousness he addressed his squadron. "Remember, Red will launch right after us and provide cover if there are any fighters in the area. The facility's shields should be down, so use Ion Cannons. Red's mag pulse weapons should keep the heat off long enough for our ion pulse warheads to take down their systems for capture. Once the systems are disabled, cover the Delta's so they can do their thing. Once we have control of the facility, return to the Star to reload. We won't have a lot of time to get ready for Tremmel's fleet to return. Our job will be to take out the Valiant."

They all gave a single click to acknowledge. All that was left was to wait.

"Beta One, this is Three. Four and I are going to run through a few practice maneuvers, then we'll join back up with you and Two."

"Roger that, Three. We have plenty of time 'til the fleet returns."

"On me, Four." Two of the TIE Advanced fighters broke off from the four-ship group. Bexley switched to a private channel he and Cidran had agreed upon on their last "escape" attempt.

"Ok, Cid, just as we planned. I'll switch back to the flight channel and give the order. We jump at the count of one. You did put in the coordinates during pre-flight, didn't you?"

A little irritated, Cidran replied. "Yes. After you give the order, I'll start counting."

"Ok, here we go..."

Just as the two pilots had discussed earlier that day, they switched back to their flight's channel as they headed away from them and out towards open space. Both were accelerating and making synchronized turns. Once they were far enough away, Bexley gave the order..."Accelerate to attack speed, Four." As they pushed their throttles forward, they each began their mental countdown.

5...4...

Beta One opened his comm. "Three, we are already out far enough from NL-1. Don't go out too..." The two fighters disappeared into hyperspace. "...far."

After a few seconds, Beta One spoke again, but this time to his wingman. "Two, do you have any idea where those two went?"

"No, sir."

This type of thing had never happened to One. He didn't immediately know what to do. Should he try to follow them? See where Three and Four's exit vector could have taken them? Should he contact the fleet and let them know what was going on? He decided on a combination of the two.

"Two, we're going to bring it around and see if we can figure out where they went, so stay on me."

"Yes, sir. I think I can calculate a possible destination based on their exit."

"Excellent, Two. I'm going to contact the fleet and let them know what we are doing." A click came back, acknowledging that his transmission was received and understood. One took the flight control stick and pulled it back and to the left, putting the fighter into a wide loop back in the opposite direction. His wingman stayed right with him as requested.

Half way through the loop, One turned to the fleet channel. "Beta One to Valiant."

"Valiant here," came the reply.

"Valiant, we've had an incident."

"What sort of incident, Beta?"

Just then a huge ship exited hyperspace right in front of the two Beta fighters.

"Two! Break!" One screamed into the comm. But it was too late. Both fighters exploded in small fireballs against the hull of the massive Mon Cal cruiser.

"Admiral Tremmel?" the comm officer called.

Vice Admiral Tremmel turned from the forward view port from which he was watching the latest exercise. He was very pleased at how well his troops were doing. Except for the minor mistake his fighters made in destroying a pirate freighter not too long ago, they were performing wonderfully. If he could show these exercise results to the right people, perhaps he could get he and his small fleet reassigned to see some real action. He remained hopeful that it wouldn't be too much longer.

"Yes, what is it?" he responded.

"Sir, we've had contact from Beta flight. They report that they've had an incident."

"What sort of...incident?" Tremmel asked. He sounded only vaguely concerned, thinking that Beta probably just had a run in with one of the local shuttle pilots ferrying workers to and from NL-1.

"Ummmm..." the comm officer hesitated. "We're not sure, sir."

Tremmel was now suddenly more concerned.

"I asked for clarification, but we lost contact with them abruptly."

"Abruptly?" Tremmel repeated.

"Yes, sir."

"I see." Tremmel clasped his hands behind the small of his back and turned back around to face the view port. It was similar to what Grand Moff Tarkin had been known to do. After a few seconds he began to give his orders.

"Recall all ships to the hangar, turn us around, and head home. We'll have to end this exercise a little early."

Chapter 7

"What was that?" Captain Ru'kaart asked.

One of the helmsmen answered immediately. "Sir, we came out of hyperspace right on top of a pair of TIE Advanced fighters. They attempted to maneuver, but were destroyed when they ran into us. We also detected two other craft jumping to hyperspace just before we entered the system."

"Roger that." Ru'kaart replied. "Let's just hope that they didn't get off a warning to anyone."

He swiveled his command chair back to the forward view ports in which the NL-1 facility was growing larger and larger.

"Sir, the target's shields have just dropped and we are now jamming their communications," came a voice from his right.

"Excellent. Right on schedule. Launch all fighters." Let's just hope we have time to prepare for phase two, he said to himself.

Just as planned, Red's mag pulse weapons had done their job. NL-1's weapons were down long enough for Blue squadron to launch their warheads. Already, the target's systems were down to just over 10%. And, although there were a few shuttles and transports fleeing the area, there were only a handful of local security fighters for Red to handle. The speed and maneuverability of the A-Wings and superiority of the X-Wings made short work of the slower security force, thus leaving Blue squadron's fighters unmolested.

"Ok, Five. We're empty. Take your group in and finish the job."

"Roger that, Lead," Schmitty replied then switched to the channel his flight group was on. "Four, let's bring it around one more time. Seven, you and Eleven follow us." He received three clicks in reply. The four heavy assault fighter-bombers made a wide turn to bring their weapons to bear on the facility. Once a lock was achieved, eight ion pulse torpedoes sped towards their target. Just before they hit, four ships suddenly appeared on Steve's HUD.

"Lead, you getting that?"

"I am, Five." Dobber had to take a second to check the new blips, then switched to the Star's channel. "Star, we have four new contacts."

"We copy, Blue Lead. The Regis confirms that Tremmel has returned early."

"Star, we're not going to be able to go up against a Destroyer with no warheads, and we don't have time for everyone to reload. Awaiting orders."

Dobber tried to think of what they could do. He ran through the targets on his HUD. When he got to NL-1, he noted that their Systems were now down. However, he knew that Delta's would not be able to launch. Certainly Tremmel would launch all of his fighters. The risk would be too high that the Delta's shuttles wouldn't even make it to NL-1 for the capture. He hated that his squadron did their job in disabling the facility only to have the mission overall fail. All they could do now was concentrate on Tremmel's fleet.

The Valiant was the first ship to exit out of hyperspace. Tremmel had them come out as close to NL-1 as possible. Only seconds behind them, the Vendetta, Titan, and Salvage appeared.

"Sir," the helmsman of the Valiant reported, "we have a Mon Cal Cruiser, Nebulon-B Frigate, and fighters boxing in NL-1. We are unable to contact the facility. There is active jamming around it. Scans show that its shields and systems are down."

Tremmel took the report and quickly analyzed that the rebels were trying to capture the facility. "Are there any assault shuttles in the mix?"

"None, sir."

Tremmel nodded. "We caught them in the act then. Any ID on those ships?"

"Yes, sir. The Regis and the new cruiser is the Morning Star."

The Regis? Tremmel exclaimed to himself. . He knew that he could destroy the smaller frigate with his fleet, if the Regis had been the only ship he had to worry about. However, that wasn't the case. The Mon Cal cruiser was his highest priority. Even though his ship was smaller, he had to do what he could. It only took a second to come up with some sort of plan.

"I want the best techs on a shuttle to the facility now. Have them get NL-1's systems and shields back up. Then bring all weapons to bear on the cruiser. Immediately launch all fighters. Primary target is that cruiser. Have the Vendetta, Titan, and Salvage attack their frigate. I want the Regis destroyed. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." The officer turned back to his console to relay the commander's orders.

Tremmel waited for his orders to be acknowledged then walked up to the helmsman. "I want you to put us right in front of the cruiser. I don't want them getting away." He looked out the front viewport and saw the enemy ships getting larger and larger. This is what he had trained for. He was glad that he had kept drilling his fleet all of these months. Still, he did not expect to be fighting here. Not like this. Fortunately, they had caught the enemy off guard and had the element of surprise...at least that's what he hoped.

Zoom's voice boomed in Dobber's headset. "Blue Lead, this is Red Lead."

"Go ahead, Red Lead," Andrew replied.

"Red still has a good amount of torps left. If your Blues can get the Vic's shields down, maybe we can get a few torps up their rear-end and cause the engines to explode."

"Sounds like a plan. Who knows, it just may work." Dobber switched to the squadron channel.

"Listen up, Blues. The Vic is moving into position to block the Star's exit. We're going to take down its shields with our cannons, then Red will attempt to do some damage with their remaining torps."

"Lead, Ten here. Why don't we reload first?"

"No time, Ten. We're too far away from the Star to get there and back before the Vic gets in place."

"Roger, Lead." Red replied.

"Look out for bombers. We don't want them working on the Star."

"Lead," it was Rogue this time. "Looks like their Frigate and 'vettes are attacking the Regis. All they have is the trainees."

"Stang it! Why do they always stick us cadets in Z-95s?!" cried Jackal under his breathe. Aaron knew what they had to do. Even though they were only supposed to be escorting Regis, the situation had drastically changed now that there was a Frigate and two corvettes bearing down on them. As de facto leader of the trainees, he switched comm. on.

"OK, folks, let's do what we trained for. All of us together should be able to take care of the corvettes. Remember to come from behind."

"Jackal, I show about nine squints headed our way," Rain interrupted. "I'll take three, five, and six and keep them off you and the Regis."

"Be careful, One." Jackal hoped the four cadets would be able to handle the superior enemy fighters long enough for his group to take out the two capital ships. "Ok. Four, Seven, and Eight, let's go."

Jackal took the lead. He targeted the corvette Titan and angled his fighter so that he would be out of range of the larger ship's turbo lasers as he came up behind it. To keep damage from the ship's engines at a minimum, he switched his shields to full front and recharge rate to 100%. Once he was close enough he pulled the trigger, pouring laser energy into the larger ship's engines.

He continued firing until his lasers ran out, then veered off just enough so that Hulk could move into place. After Hulk had expended his lasers, Phantom and Hunter would take their turns while he and Hulk's lasers recharged. If they were able to destroy the Titan, they would move on to the Salvage and repeat the process.

Unfortunately, Phantom and Hunter didn't realize that the Salvage had already moved into a position where its turbo lasers could reach them. Phantom took a glancing hit to his port wing and had to break off. He redirected his laser energy to his shields and set them to full front and aft. His path brought him into the Titan's range, but he was able to get away before taking too much damage.

Hunter had been caught completely off guard by the Salvage's onslaught. He took a massive hit and lost control. As his doomed fighter spiraled out of control, Hunter screamed. This was not how the hunt was supposed to end. A second later, his Z-95 Headhunter exploded into the top engines of the Titan.

Hulk saw the Titan's readings drop, she was almost done for. "This is for Hunter," he said as he poured the last bit of his laser energy into his target. Only seconds after Hunter's fighter rammed it and exploded, the Titan itself exploded.

Aaron didn't know how to handle the loss of Hunter, but he at least knew that they would all die if he didn't do something...now. "No time for morning. Phantom, form up on us. We have to get the Salvage before it can target the Regis."

Not too far away, the rest of the flight cadets were not faring too well either. Three squints ganged up on Souper when she was forced to break off away from her wingman, Tracker. Her fighter took a lot of damage before it became overwhelming and disintegrated from around the Anzati pilot. To her credit, Souper was able to eject in time and was now floating in space, in the middle of a battlefield.

"We could use some help over here!" Kenny cried over the comm... "Six is EV, Five is damaged, and we're barely hanging on!" For someone that was so cool and calm in the sims, Kenny was now falling apart. Although he and Tracker were able to take out two of the nine squints, the numbers were still too much for them.

In front of him, his target exploded. That was his second kill, but he knew it would not be enough and pulled hard on the flight stick. He saw the three squints that had shot the fighter out from under Souper and squinted to make out an object floating near by. It was Souper and she was unconscious. The TIEs were looping around to fall in behind Tracker. Kenny targeted the lead fighter and increased his speed after completing his turn.

Time seemed to stand still as a gruesome event played out in front of him. As the TIE came around, it collided with the object floating helplessly in space. Souper's body smashed through the fighter's cockpit window, killing both pilots. It caused the fighter to take an unnatural turn, directly in the path of it's wingman. Both fighters were a ball of explosive energy. Kenny knew that the image would forever be burned into his memory.

A few seconds later, Jackal replied. "Rain, hang on. We'll be there as soon as we can. The Titan is down, but we lost Hunter in the process. We're on the Salvage now. Hang on!" He hoped that their three fighters would be able to destroy the other corvette quickly. It was inevitable that there would be more Imp fighters on their way soon, and he knew that, even though Rain, Talon, and Tracker were good pilots, the odds of survival were against them.

Jackal looked down at his message screen and panicked. It was just as he feared.

"RTS One to Red Leader! We're in trouble over here! I'm picking up a group of eyeballs heading our way followed by some dupes. There's no way we can handle all of them."

"Jackal, this is Red Lead. We're on our way."

"Sithspit, Lead! Half of the Reds are going towards the Regis! They dumb fired their torps at the Vic and took off!" Rogue was angry, but torn. Part of him wanted to go help the trainees too, but he knew he was also needed to attack the Star Destroyer. He also knew that if Blue split up they would not be able to cover each other and leave them vulnerable to enemy fighters, which would be on them all too soon.

"Three, we have incoming!" Gustan was scared, but at the same time excited. You could hear it in his voice. He had done well in the sims, but this would be his first real engagement against piloted TIEs. Every pilot went through this. Most had the same feelings. Once it was over, assuming the pilot survived the engagement, he would be more confident. The problem was keeping that confidence in check. Over confidence got pilots killed just as much as the lack thereof.

"I've got 'em, Nine. Attack my target. Take one linked shot, and then break to port. We'll come around and pick off the group one by one." So much for us attacking the Vic, Rogue thought to himself.

"Copy, Three."

Rogue squeezed the trigger, letting loose a twin laser blast. His shot nicked the wing of the lead Interceptor causing it to juke to one side. Unfortunately, for the pilot, it veered right into the blast from Gustan's Y-Wing and exploded.

"Whoohoo!" Gustan shouted as he pulled his flight stick to his thigh. His fighter slipped to the right as the remaining group of Interceptors flew past him. His shields easily absorbed their glancing laser shots. On the other side of his loop he met back up with Rogue's Y-wing.

"Good shot, Nine. Set shields to full aft and cover me. I'll let you have the next one."

"Right behind you, Three."

In another part of space, Leo's flight group was engaging a group of eyeballs. They had already taken out two of them and were working on a third. Schmitty's group of B-wings was going after a large group of TIE Bombers heading towards the Morning Star.

Dobber realized that, with over half of Red squadron on their way to aide the Regis and the trainees, his squadron would not be able to take on a Star Destroyer that was blocking the Star's exit. And, since the Morning Star was now concentrating its fire on the Valiant so it could retreat, it would be too dangerous to go near the ship anyway. The best he could do was try to take out as many TIEs as possible to cover the Star's retreat. "Five, can you handle the Dupes?" Dobber called.

"Affirmative, Lead. Just keep those eyeballs and squints off our tails." Steve replied. As could be expected, his adrenaline was running strong. His group had the advantage in that the Imperial bombers flew a straight path towards the Morning Star since it was their main objective. They only veered from that path if they unloaded their compliment of warheads. Steve made the decision to split up his group. Each of their fighters could take down four dupes as long as they didn't have to evade anything else. As long as Dobber and Leo could keep the other enemy fighters occupied, they would get the job done.

"Most of Red is going to the aide of the Regis, so, other than four of their A-wings, we're all there is to cover the Star." Dobber announced to his squadron.

It took longer than he had hoped, but the Salvage was now a floating pile of junk. Jackal called to Rain, "One, we're on our way!"

"There's too many of them, Two! Our shields are almost out!"

Jackal could see the furball in front of him. There was only the three of them against what looked like a swarm of TIEs. He called to his wingmen, "Let's get over there fast. I don't know how much longer they can last." Then Aaron pushed his throttle as hard as he could. It didn't budge. It was already at full. Still, it wasn't fast enough. Hurry, Zoom. Kenney, Talin', and Shukai need you...now, he whispered to himself.

Red Squadron's X-wings were just over two klicks away when they saw three green blips wink out of existence in quick succession. Over half of the flight cadets were gone. They were too late.

"Jackal!" Zoom called. "The Regis is breaking away thanks to you guys taking out those 'vettes. You, Hulk, and Phantom get back to the Regis so they can make the jump." Kelly knew how Aaron must be feeling right now. He had seen too many of his pilots die. All of them were too young. He didn't want to see any more death today. "Go! We'll cover you! Go!"

"We copy, Red Lead."

"Sir," the comm officer called, "the Frigate Regis is escaping!"

Tremmel pounded a fist into the arm of his command chair. He wanted to utterly destroy that ship, to pay them back for his current situation. Now, unfortunately, he would have to wait for another chance. "Status report," he demanded.

The same officer replied. "We are sustaining heavy fire from their cruiser. After taking multiple torpedo hits our shields are down and we are taking hull damage. The Rebels have managed to destroy most of our bombers, but they were able to take the cruisers shields down to 25%. Our technicians are reporting that NL-1's systems should be back online within minutes."

"What about the Vendetta?" Tremmel asked.

"She has taken some damage from the Regis, but not too much. They report that their fighters are now engaging the Rebel's X-wings and the remaining Headhunters." He paused for a moment. "Orders?"

Tremmel ran the numbers through his head. Could he do it? Could he box in the cruiser and finish it off before they were destroyed? He had to. "Order the Vendetta to move in to block the cruiser's escape route."

"Yes, sir."

"Tell those techs that I want those weapon systems up now and target the cruiser. I want that ship destroyed. Is that understood?" Tremmel stood firm. Although he lost that petty Frigate, he'd win the day still. Then Issard would have to promote him out of this place. "Weapons officer?"

The weapons officer was a relatively young woman. She was not very attractive, but was a spit polish officer. At Tremmel's call she turned her chair around and stood to attention. "Sir!"

"How are we on warheads?"

"Sir, we only have a half load of torpedoes, heavy rockets, and pulse warheads. We had planned on reloading upon our return to station after the exercise."

Tremmel nodded. It wouldn't be enough, he thought. With the rate of fire coming from the cruiser he knew that not many warheads would make it through to do enough damage to count. Still, he had to give it a shot. "Understood. I want all warheads launched. Let's try dumb firing on them. Perhaps will get the same success they had against them."

"Yes, sir."

Dobber knew things were not going well. The mission was a failure. The Regis was already gone, with only three of the trainees alive. Red Squadron was wrapped up with TIEs on the other side of the facility. Zoom reported that the Vendetta was trying to block the Star's escape. Fortunately, the Star was able to concentrate all of its forward firepower on the Vic and was causing heavy damage. At the same time, she was backing away and getting turned around. It looked like they were going to make it.

"Lead, Three. I'm picking up multiple warheads coming from the Vic."

Stang, Dobber thought. "Blue Group One, we have to take out as many of those warheads as possible. If too many get through, the Star is finished!" He didn't waste any time. Disengaging from the eyeball he was following, he banked hard and targeted the nearest warhead. "Flame," he addressed his astromech, "I need you to bring up the next closest warhead as soon as I take this one out. Then keep them coming." The droid responded in the affirmative.

Behind him, Lobo was doing the same thing.

Rogue and Gustan were making their runs on the larger warheads, the heavy rockets. As Gustan got behind the one he had targeted, he jumped when his proximity alarm went off. "Tek, what's got us?"

Gustan's new astromech put up a picture of a heavy rocket and explained that, when Gustan got behind the one he had targeted, he flew right in the path of another one. That one acquired him as a target.

That is not good, he thought. Rogue's voice boomed in his ear, "Evasive, Nine!"

Without thinking, Gustan pulled the stick hard, almost injuring himself in the crotch. He didn't have time to think about the stomach wrenching pain. He wouldn't even feel pain anymore if he didn't out fly the warhead closing in on him.

He put his ship in a series of loops and turns to no avail. The warhead was stuck to him like glue. In his desperation, he kept seeing the facility coming and going in his field of view. Then he got an idea. While not totally leveling off, he pointed his ship towards the facility. Mayb