Omega Sqadron Black Knights





Chapter 1

Arfore trilled at her, dumping data on the screen - sixty seconds to the dropout point. Her stomach lurched, stabbing fear through her. She took a deep lung-full of air, letting it out slowly, breathing through the nausea and forcing herself to run through the checklist again.

It was always like this, every single time. The few moments when she thought she was going to throw up replaced by the slow, clear-minded calm of impending combat that had, more than once, given her a two/three clear-shot advantage when all hells had let loose. And by then she had no time to be afraid. There again, anyone who said they weren’t afraid was a liar – or stupid, and she’d met plenty of both in her time. Most of them were now scattered in bits across space and if they were really lucky they hadn’t taken their colleagues with them.

Thirty seconds.

She smiled, anticipation beginning to build. They’d taken a distress call from one of the Hoth stragglers. Engines damaged, her X-wing escort gone, she was being harassed by an Imperial Corvette. The Black Knights and Home Two, the Mon Calamari cruiser Omega Squadron had just left, were about to even the odds. Jumping in as close as they could to the freighter’s co-ordinates, the Knights would attack the Corvette, trying to stop her doing more harm to the already ravaged Rebel ship and buying the Home Two time to manoeuvre into position. The cruiser would be dropping out of hyperspace five minutes behind, further out, and use her heavy weaponry to take care of the Corvette... All they could hope for was that they’d made it in time.

Three… two… one…

The shimmering weave of the hyperspace corridor disintegrated into the black, starlit backdrop of normal space. The sensors went wild, her Artoo unit squealing at her from the back. She swore, punching through the data, "I see them!" she shouted at Arfore, "I see them!" Goddess, a Star Destroyer! Where the hells had that come from… And where was the Corvette... The freighter was still there - taking heavy fire, TIEs all over her, but still there. The Destroyer was moving in on her, not yet in range, but it was getting damned close. They didn’t have much time...

As she watched, a group of TIEs peeled off, heading towards them. This was going to be tough, but the freighter was still alive and from the tactical screen readout it looked as if she had managed to take care of some of the TIEs on her own. Kazlyn Hawkspar, Commander of Omega Squadron – the Black Knights – smiled coldly. They might just pull this off! She keyed the mike, ordering, "Lock S-foils in attack position! Standby for orders!" No time for the wings to check in… She flipped the frequency, pouring on power, feeling herself pressed into the seat as the fighter responded, "Richlo’s Rest, this is Knight Leader, do you copy?"

There was a burst of static, then, "Knight Leader, this is the Richlo’s Rest… thank the Fates…"

"What’s your status?" Kaz interrupted. There was no time for sentiment; the TIEs were closing too fast.

"Number three engine is gone," a different voice told her, "number two is damaged. My engineers are rigging enough power through one and four to make the jump. But the TIEs are adding to the problems and we can’t outrun that Destroyer for much longer."

Kaz grinned. Things were looking better and better. If the Richlo could jump into hyperspace and out of danger, the Home Two wouldn’t have to tempt the Fates by going up against a Star Destroyer. "Roger, Richlo . How long do you need?"

"Not long…"

"Roger, we’ll give you what we can. Just hang on…" Hawkspar cross-coupled the frequencies so that she could talk and listen to both the squadron and the Richlo , ordering, "Knight Leader to all wings, attack pattern serpentine! Attack pattern serpentine! The Richlo’s wounded but not crippled. We need to buy enough time for her to make the jump!"

"Copy that, Revered Leader," her Second told her.

"Copied," her Third acknowledged, "Breaking now!"

~ * ~

On the Star Destroyer, a cold voice cut across the eerie silence on the Command Bridge. "Will it work, Captain?" Martellon always used the same chilly, dispassionate tone of voice when addressing an underling.

"The engineers have assured me that it will Sir", responded Captain Drenn. "They tell me that the device is ready, should you care to make the order…." He left off, as an unholy gleam appeared in Martellon’s eyes as he looked up from the tactical display, which he had been studying intently the whole time.

The tactical display had been showing him the progress of the X-wing squadron, now identified as Omega squadron, and their battle to save the damaged freighter Richlo’s Rest. They seemed to be about ready to form into an attack pattern, which was all according to his plan. If the Glean device did work, then the second and third TIE squadrons that were held in reserve would have the added tactical knowledge of the layout of whatever attack formation the X-wings would take, as plucked from the collective brains of the Astromech droids on the fighters.

If the Glean could discern in advance what formation they would take, then the TIEs would be able to formulate an attack pattern around that, and destroy every last one of them, minus a few lucky ones who could be mopped up later.

"Activate the Glean device," he ordered. As he watched, the tactical display of the X-wings changed colour to indicate a projection of their movements.

"They are forming into some kind of coil pattern Sir," breathed the Captain.

~ * ~

Behind Hawkspar the Squadron began to peel away, breaking into two Flights, corkscrewing away in long, lazy loops – like a snake uncoiling from its afternoon doze – leaving her fighter as centre point with her wingman. And, with any luck, confusing the TIEs as to the squadron’s intent. She watched the TIE formation beginning to split to follow. Then her shields flared as the first of the TIEs’ blaster fire hit home. She stayed level, running head to head, her own guns spitting laser fire in answer. The TIE broke off, pulling up into her wingman’s line of fire. There was a brief flare of light against the hull, then the wing-strut sheared from the cockpit sending the fighter into a tight, uncontrollable spin. The wing panel flew off in the other direction, slamming into another TIE -which exploded spectacularly.

First kill.

Her wingman whooped in victory. Hawkspar flew straight though the space the TIE had just occupied; breaking through their line and heading for the enemy fighters that hounded the Richlo’s Rest. The Knights broke formation, one Flight pulling up with Lainy Kal’Ten – Hawkspar’s Second - to take care of their attackers, the other following their Leader through towards the freighter. Kaz checked her targeting computer, picking out the next unfortunate, locking on and firing. At her side, the rest of the Flight mirrored her actions.

Kaz watched the targeting screen as the TIEs were picked off one by one. But the remaining fighters continued to harry the Richlo , ignoring the oncoming X-wings. This isn’t right, she thought. This isn’t right. What are they up to? Lining up another TIE she keyed the mike, "Knight Two, fall to centre! Watch our six. Something’s not right here!"

"Copied!" Kal’Ten acknowledged, flipping her fighter into a turn, looping round and pouring on the power to sit between the two Flights, her wingman following.

"Knight Three, keep your eyes peeled!"

"Copied, Boss!" Edraa confirmed.

The Star Destroyer was closing. Any time soon it was going to start getting too close for comfort. "Richlo?" Kaz asked, "How long?"

"Five minutes, Knight Leader, maybe ten…"

By which time Home Two would be here and giving them more covering fire... "Roger, Richlo, jump when you’re ready. Don’t wait for us! Safe home!"

"Copied, Knight Leader. And you." On the bridge, Tully Baccart, the Richlo ’s First Officer turned to his Tactical Officer, "Keep your eyes on that Destroyer! Let me know the minute it gets into firing range!"

"Aye, Sir!"

Tully sat down, resisting the urge to pester the engineers again. They were doing everything they could, they just needed time - time that he had an awful suspicion they didn’t have. The Captain was dead, they were crowded out down below… He stopped the line of thought, concentrating on the positive. There was an X-wing squadron out there now, doing its damnedest to help them. They would pull through this! They would... they had to.

Riding safeguard position between the two Flights, Kal’Ten monitored the frequency and watched her targeting screen as both Flights took out the TIEs one by one. But the TIEs were taking their toll. The freighter was still taking damage and they had already lost two X-wings, a third calling that his shields were about to go. Someone answered, telling him to hold on, that she had the offending TIE lined up...

She checked her timepiece. Sixty seconds until the Home Two dropped in...

Some sixth sense pulled her attention back to the Star Destroyer. She had a sudden flash – an image of TIEs swarming out of the capital ship’s hangers. Fear stabbing at her she scanned the screen. But there was nothing there... And then, as she looked, they appeared. The breath froze in her lungs. Two squadrons, there were two more squadrons! She swore softly, still not quite believing what she was seeing. The Artoo unit was screaming at her, throwing tactical information onto the screen, breaking the spell. She shocked back to reality, keying the mike, yelling, "Boss! Incoming!"

Hawkspar cursed, checking the data. "All wings form up!" she ordered, "Incoming! Incoming!" But she could already see that it was too late. Omega squadron was split and the TIEs would reach them before they could reform...

~ * ~

"Squadron Two," commanded Martellon, "take one side of the coil shape, and split the two halves. Squadron Three, take the trailing coil, and attack from the rear, heading towards Two. Crush them between you." And I will be joining you soon, he added silently.

"Have my fighter made ready, Captain," he ordered. "I shall be taking part in the victory myself. I expect it to be ready by the time I arrive at the Bay." His tone of voice left no uncertainty.

As expected, Martellon’s TIE fighter was ready for takeoff when he arrived. He immediately climbed into the cockpit, and without pausing for any sort of clearance, he fired up the Twin Ion Engines, and screamed out of the Docking Area, eager to make his first kill of the day. After all, it could have been any squadron that turned up to help the bait out of supposed trouble, why not Omega? It mattered little to Martellon, he had his laboratory specimens.

An alarm clamoured for his attention. Technical data informed him that another ship had joined the fray... a Mon Calamari cruiser. He smiled. As if that would help them!

He scanned the instrument panel, checking that the Nav system was still spooling data from the Glean device. The projection was getting quite sketchy now, as the Astromech droids were being consulted less and less during the massacre. And a massacre it was. Omega squadron were being all but obliterated.

~ * ~

Tully watched in horror as the X-wings died one by one under the sheer weight of the TIEs. The Richlo’s gunners were doing what they could, but they were having little effect and the Rebel Cruiser was going to be no match for the Star Destroyer. If something wasn’t done quickly, the Black Knights and the cruiser were going to be wiped out...

"Sir?" Tully turned to Patnin, knowing by the terror on her face that the huge Imperial ship had finally caught up with them. "The Destroyer is in range!" Tully simply nodded, saying nothing, skin crawling as he waited to feel the Richlo to rock under the Destroyer’s fire. Instead, in growing disbelief, he saw the capital ship beginning to fire on the fighters. The T-65s were too small and too fast to allow for accurate targeting. The Destroyer was just as likely to hit the TIEs as the X-wings... Patnin had turned back to her tactical screen. "Sir..." she began again, fingers dancing across the console, "it’s turning away!"

Tully jumped to his feet, crossing the bridge in two strides, looking over her shoulder as she extrapolated the data, "Where?"

"It’s turning towards the cruiser..."

The moment of relief at the Destroyer’s sudden disinterest in the Richlo evaporated almost immediately into horror. The Mon Calamari vessel was no match for the Star Destroyer. If the Imperial ship started firing...

An idea hit him and he leapt for his console, toggling the intercom switch, "Clar, how’s it going?"

There was a slight pause, then the engineer’s voice told him, "We’re doing our best, Sir. But..."

"What sort of manoeuvring power can you give me?"

He could hear the distraction in his engineer’s voice as she asked, "How much do you need?"

"Ramming speed..."

Emmar The bridge officers turned as one, looking at him aghast. Then, as he returned their looks evenly, he watched their expressions change towards numb acceptance... then to the same nervous anticipation he felt at his decision. And, smiling, he knew they were with him.

"You’ll have it, Sir!" Clar Miklo assured him after a moment’s silence.

He had no idea if they had enough life pods for all the personnel who had been crammed aboard the ship on Hoth. It was going to be tight. But it was the only thing they could do. Too many had already died and too many had been left behind at Echo Base for him to sit back and watch another massacre when he could do something to stop it.

He flipped the switch, "Attention Watch Stations, this is the First Officer. An Imperial Star Destroyer has just overtaken us and I intend to do something about it! Fill the escape pods with as many people as you can. A Mon Calamari cruiser has just dropped out of hyperspace, she’ll pick you up. Safe home! It’s been an honour!" He stabbed a finger at another switch, taking a deep breath and announcing, "All hands, abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!"

~ * ~

Kal’Ten’s target blew apart and she yanked the X-wing up and round, searching the tactical screen, trying to find out who was still alive – knowing, a split second before the weapon’s-lock alarm sounded, that another TIE had her lined up. She dismissed the search, concentrating solely on staying alive. Somewhere along the line she’d lost her wingman, but she had no idea when or how. The Imperial fighters were everywhere...

"Knight Leader, this is the Richlo ..."

Laser fire skittered across Hawkspar’s shields, the power indicator moving from amber towards red. She pulled up hard, kicking in the rudder and pouring on the power, trying to throw the TIE that continued to pursue her, it’s guns blazing. She saw it follow her round and slammed in the power brakes. The TIE shot past her as the T-65 slowed abruptly. Kaz lined him up and fired. The TIE disintegrated into a flaming ball of debris. "Richlo," she answered, finally, "go!" Snapping the fighter into a turn she glanced at the freighter, doing a double take as tiny dots began dropping away from it.

"We’re lost here. I’m abandoning ship.... But we’ve still got a trick up our sleeves."

"Boss!" Edraa yelled, "One on your tail!"

Damn it! I don’t have time for this! "Where?" she demanded, "I can’t see him!"

Edraa frowned, checking the screen again, "Left on my mark, Boss, to... point three two eight! Ready… ready.... Mark!" She watched Hawkspar’s T-65 turn, crossing through her sights, leading the TIE straight into them. And fired. The TIE bucked sideways, right wing strut disintegrating. But it was still firing on Kaz. Edraa swore, following it round, blasting at it. Then whooped in joy as it exploded.

Hawkspar saw the blip disappear, her sights already set on another target. Then a voice crackled in her ear-piece, "Knight Leader, Home Two, do you copy?"

"Home Two, I copy. Go!"

"Abort. Abort. We are in position. Abort. Abort."

"Roger that, Home Two! I think the Richlo’s up to something!"

"Copied!" Then she heard the same voice on the other frequency, "Richlo’s Rest this is Home Two, do you copy? Richlo’s Rest, this is Home Two, acknowledge!"

Kaz knocked the cross coupling off, ordering, "All wings, fall back! All wings, fall back!" But it wasn’t going to be that easy. The TIEs refused to give up on their quarry. Three X-wings tried to pull out ahead of her, only to be picked off in quick succession by a TIE Interceptor that had joined the fray. Swearing, Kaz heard the weapons-lock starting to squeal and flipped the fighter sideways, pouring on power.

~ * ~

His mind focussed on the task at hand as the Tactical display showed him approaching enemy fighters. Perfect, they were facing the wrong way. He immediately went to guns on them, and within a few seconds, three more of Omega squadron were gone. A fourth was not to be so easy. This one saw him before he could lock, and slued away from his crosshairs. He concentrated on trying to get that fighter back in his sights. It was doing a good job of avoiding him, almost as if the pilot had had time in a TIE and knew all the dodges.

As he got closer, a smudge on the back of the fighter distracted him. Unbelievable, it was a target! The arrogance of these people - taunting the Empire’s finest pilots with such childish symbols. He would teach these fools a lesson…

But the X-wing continued to evade him. Finally he admitted temporary defeat, seeing a more palatable target. This one would wait - for now. After all, it wasn’t as if this fighter would be hard to identify… And then it would be his. He veered away, running in towards his next objective.

~ * ~

Tully had no idea whether or not the X-wing Commander had heard him. He sat down, watching the screen as the escape pods drifted slowly away...

"Engineering to the Bridge, you’ve got half light-speed, Sir!"

That was all he needed, "Thank you, Clar. Run the engines up then abandon ship."

"Aye, Sir!"

Tully looked round the Bridge Crew, ordering quietly, "Get to your escape pods."

Patnin glanced across to the helmsman. Slowly she and Grame stood up, "With all due respect, Sir," Grame told him, "we’ll stay." He grinned, "I’d like to know that the Richlo’s Rest actually hit the Destroyer."

Tully gave him a flat, level stare, "Are you questioning my ability as a pilot, Mr. Thoft?"

Grame shook his head, still grinning, "No, Sir, just your navigation..."

"If the Destroyer starts firing on us," Patnin pointed out, "you’ll need help."

"Sir, the Home Two is calling."

Tully looked across at the communications officer, "Answer them, Jed. Let them know what we’re going to do. Then get to the escape pod. That’s an order!"

"Yes, Sir!" Jed confirmed.

Tully glared at the two other crewmembers, "Well don’t just stand there! Plot a course! Pat, how many escape pods still to launch?"

She sat down, checking her display, "Twenty-two."

"Let me know when the last one’s away."

Jed stood up, throwing a look at Patnin and Grame, giving them a quick nod before walking away from his station past the First Officer, towards the hatch. He stopped, turning back as Tully called, "Mr Raacene?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Thank you. It’s been a pleasure. And a privilege."

Jed smiled. "Good luck, Sir." Then he turned, stepping through the hatch and disappeared down the corridor.

~ * ~

Xen Edraa heard the order to pull back. Easier said than done! The weapons-lock chimed incessantly as she twisted the fighter round, trying to break away from the TIEs behind her. The Imperial fighters remained stubbornly attached to her tail, following her every move. She noticed the nose of the freighter beginning to lift then discarded the information, her shield indicator darkening slowly from amber toward red as the TIEs fired on her again. Not good…Definitely not good! Damn it, get off my tail!

She keyed the mike, pushing her T-65 into a corkscrewing climb, "Boss! I’ve got problems here!"

"I see it!" Hawkspar told her, "Hold on!" She also saw the bow of the Richlo’s Rest swinging up, turning towards the Destroyer. The Imperial maintained its original course, turbolasers continuing to fire on the fighters and the Mon Calamari ship. Maybe the Richlo had been able to fix the hyperdrive after all…

"Knight Leader, Home Two, pull back now! Acknowledge! Pull back now!"

Yeh, yeh, in a minute! "Home Two, standby!" she answered, hauling her fighter round and down, pouring on the power, arrowing in towards Edraa. And where the hells had that Interceptor gone? "Xen, turn left on my mark, point three nine one!"

"Roger…"

Kal’Ten hesitated for a moment then, as she heard Kaz reply to Xen’s plea for help, continuing to fire on the TIE in her sights. The fighter disappeared in a ball of flame, main wing strut shearing and tumbling away from the disintegrating cockpit. She searched her targeting screen, part of her mind noting clinically that there were only three X-wings left alive. Pulling the T-65 round she headed for Edraa and Hawkspar, taking out another TIE who strayed into her path. There were too many… Despite what the Home Two wanted, the Imperials would slaughter them if they tried to pull back now… Her Artoo unit whistled at her, flashing a flag onto one of the targets on the display. Hells…

Steady, Kaz willed, Steady. Just keep coming in…

"Kaz! Watch your six!"

Hawkspar swore as the weapons-lock started screaming at her, Damn it, not now! Edraa was almost in position… "On my mark, Xen… steady… Now!" Xen pulled up through her sights, the TIEs following. Kaz fired, ignoring her own situation as she kept the lead TIE in her cross hairs. The Imperial fighter exploded spectacularly. The second TIE hit the wreckage and tumbled away from Edraa’s X-wing, obviously out of control. "Xen," Kaz ordered, "fall back!"

Her Third’s reply was lost as the T-65 juddered under the impact of blaster fire.

~ * ~

The Communications Officer looked round at the dark-haired man sitting in the command chair of the Home Two. "Should I try again, Sir?"

Vice-Admiral Daaven Notrahw shook his head, eyes ranging across the tactical screen, watching Kal’Ten’s fighter drop in behind a TIE Interceptor that was firing on Hawkspar, "They’re busy. Leave them to it."

"Sir, if they get caught in the explosion…" the Tactical Officer began.

Notrahw looked at him, the anger and sorrow in his eyes belaying the calm ease of his manner. "Their only hope of getting out of this alive is the destruction of the Star Destroyer. If they try to pull back to us, the Imperials will pick them off – a point that has been quite ably demonstrated. You can see that Commander Hawkspar has no intention of turning tail and running if it means leaving the X-wings open to attack."

"Should I warn them, Sir?" the Comms Officer asked.

Notrahw looked back at the screen then told her, "Too late."

As he watched, the Richlo’s Rest rammed the massive Star Destroyer amidships, crushing her bridge and upper decks, the impact almost snapping the Imperial ship in two. There was a brilliant flash of light as the Rebel freighter tore itself apart in a single catastrophic blast. The Destroyer slipped sideways small blossoms of fire rippling along its length. Notrahw stood up, taking a step forward, watching in horrified awe as the Destroyer slowly buckled along its axis and broke apart, explosions ruffling over the surface. The engines exploded, shorting out the tactical screen on the bridge, momentarily blinding everyone. The screen fuzzed back into existence then snapped into clarity as the shockwave flooded past the cruiser. The aft section of the Star Destroyer had disintegrated into fragments, the bow section tumbling lazily away into space.

The Vice-Admiral sat down, slapping at an intercom switch on the console, "All stations, alert status blue! Lets get the survivors onboard!"

~ * ~

The Interceptor was knocked spinning out of control, alarms howling and sparks flying. His ship had been struck by something - something very big, and very hard. He had seen the freighter move and had decided to ignore it assuming that Captain Drenn could prevent something as simple as a collision. Instead he had seen an opportunity and concentrated on trying to get that fighter with the target symbol back in his sights. It had proved disappointingly easy – the pilot’s attention being solely on helping another X-wing. Then the other surviving T-65 had dropped in behind him. And so he had missed the freighter’s final moments and the explosion had taken him by surprise…

Martellon took stock of his situation, in the cold, detached way that he observed everything. Through the smoke he could just see the readouts on the flight control panel. Life support – minimal, Weapons – gone, Flight Controls – almost completely useless. His only chance was to try and stop the spin, and at least level the TIE out. It may well mean using the last of the fuel before it all escaped the breach in the hull, but it was the only chance he had.

The controls resisted like never before, but he managed to wrestle them enough to halt the spinning motion of the Interceptor, and stop his motion away from the battlefield. With any luck the soft Rebel scum would realise that he was still alive and rescue him. He was certain that he could escape from wherever they took him, because he had an advantage that they didn’t know about. His Force abilities were a complete unknown. To them he would just be another TIE pilot, the only difference being that this one had survived. They were such suckers for the helpless, blind follower routine. "I’m sorry I shot at you, I was just following orders."

~ * ~

"All wings report in!"

Lainy grinned, coughing away the smoke, "Knight Two, standing by!" Just…

The seconds dragged passed and no one else in Omega answered. Hawkspar’s disbelief turned to horrified dread. "All wings report in!" she ordered a second time and once more found only silence. No! Goddess, please no! Not again! She began searching the targeting computer, desperately trying to find the others.

Kal’Ten closed her eyes. She had seen that there were only three of them left, but she had been praying that her targeting computer was malfunctioning. Even now, as the silence dragged passed, she refused to believe it, knowing that there had to be other voices out there… somewhere.

"Boss…" The word was choked, full of pain.

"Xen?"

Edraa didn’t reply.

"Lainy can you see her?"

"Negative," her Second replied, "No… wait… point four… six two!" Lainy had already turned her fighter towards Edraa’s position as she continued, "Looks like she’s drifting!"

"Home Two, this is Knight leader," Kaz called, heading for Xen, "Knight Three is in trouble and drifting!"

"Copied Knight leader. Do you have co-ordinates?"

"Point four six two," Lainy answered.

"Copied. Stand by!"

Kaz swore as she approached Xen’s T-65, worry settling leadenly in her stomach as she saw the extent of the damage to the fighter. Something had obviously hit it, buckling the S-foils, stripping away the upper engine, gouging a deep hole into the lower engine and sheering the dome from her Artoo unit. Sparks arced across the ruined debris, sizzling from broken wires. Flying alongside, matching the drift and the slight tumble, Kaz tried to find any further, more immediately life threatening structural damage. And swore in dismay as she saw the crack in the dermo-steel canopy. Even as she watched, the crack crept slowly upwards.

"Knight Leader, we have the fighter locked on and ready to tractor. Break off now."

Reluctantly Kaz pulled away, wanting to stay with Edraa but aware of the danger to both fighters if they were caught in the tractor beam together, "Roger, Home Two," she acknowledged, "Be advised, there’s a crack in the canopy. It could go at any time!"

The voice that answered was the Vice-Admiral’s, "We copied that, Kaz. Follow her in. We’ll bring her home gently."

"Aye, Sir. Lainy, did you copy?"

"Copied and breaking away now." Kal’Ten looped the fighter up and over, settling in on Hawkspar’s left wing.

On the bridge of the Home Two, Notrawh watched as the crippled fighter began to move slowly towards the cruiser, the two other T-65s falling in behind, either side, almost as if they didn’t trust the tractor’s ability. He smiled sadly, finally letting the situation sink in – they had rescued almost all the personnel from the Richlo’s Rest. But it had cost them the freighter and almost all of the Knights - again.

Closing his eyes he rubbed his face in his hands. From all accounts Rogue Squadron had been devastated at Hoth. Now the Knights had suffered them same fate. And yet for every person the Alliance lost another two sprang up to take their places, or so it seemed. But how many people was he going to have to lose before they even started making headway against the Empire? And how long was it going to be before Kaz Hawkspar’s luck ultimately ran out and he had to tell Mon Mothma that they had finally lost her?

~ * ~

The cold began to bite, the darkness stretching away into endless pinpoints of light. Finally, as the last of the energy reserves began to fail, the scanners showed that the Interceptor was being scanned. Good, they had noticed him then. Time to look injured. Using a trick from his studies, he concentrated and managed to slow his heartbeat to a fraction of its normal speed. All his internal processes slowed down, and made him appear unconscious. He wouldn't be able to do much, apart from watch, but it was better than the alternative – to die slowly in cold deep space.

As he predicted, the Rebels did indeed pick him up. A tractor beam from the large Mon Calamari cruiser pulled him in to the main hangar bay. From there, he was lifted out of the cockpit by some medical orderlies, and taken straight to the medi-bay. No one of any significance saw him. Not that anyone should recognise him, really. He feigned unconsciousness all the way to the medi-bay, and took careful note of the route they took. He would need to get back to the hangar as soon as possible in order for his escape to have the best chance of success.

~ * ~