Omega Sqadron Black Knights
Chapter 8

The X-wing settled onto the hangar floor with a gentle thump, ground crews already moving in as the pilot started the after landing checks, the pitch of the engines changing as they began their slow spool towards silence. The canopy clunked open, hissing upwards. A tech appeared at his side, reaching in and undoing his straps before disappearing along the top of the fighter to guide the lifting gear towards the little Artoo unit. Hobbie threw the tech a greeting. Glancing over the side to acknowledge the rest of the crew he pulled his helmet off, ruffling his fingers through light brown hair before pushing his long, slender frame onto his feet.

A tall woman in an orange flight suit, helmet crooked under an arm, was waiting for him as he reached the bottom of the ladder; her long red hair wound up into a silver clip. She smiled, holding out her hand, "I’ll take a guess… You’d be Ahab Gee-Em?"

Returning her grin he shook her hand, "The one and only."

"Kaz Hawkspar," she introduced, "And on behalf of the Rebel Alliance, Lieutenant, welcome to the Home Two." She quirked an eyebrow, finishing, "Nice little ship, as long as you steer clear of the Vice Admiral."

Hobbie looked at her for a moment, not quite sure if she was joking or not. But she was already looking away, running her gaze along the fuselage of his fighter. She stepped closer to inspect the sooty, black, carbon scoring of weapons fire that streaked along the hull, "You have some trouble?"

"Not this run..."

"Anything we should know about if we were going to borrow her for a while?"

He looked at her, then shook his head, "No. I had to make two jumps without shields. The engineers at the last stop managed to rig something to keep them going. They’ll need to be looked at, but they should hold until then."

Hawkspar’s smile returned, "I’ll have a word with an engineer I know. Now, grab your gear and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the guys before we leave. Baz is staying here, he can show you where you’re billeted. You must be knackered…" She turned, looking for the Flight but Sedalby walked round the nose of the fighter. "Chief," she called to him, "Hobbie had some problems on the way here. Can you get someone to take a look?"

"I lost my shields," Hobbie explained, slinging his kit bag over his shoulder, "and took some hits down the starboard fuselage… It’s a bit of a mess," he admitted. "The engineers at the last stop managed to rig something up for the shields and they’ve held so far…"

The Chief nodded, moving towards the ladder, "I’ll take a look while they’re refuelling." He scanned the hangar for the Flight, as the two pilots moved away, seeing her on the other side of the hangar, yelling up at a tech on top of one of the Rogue fighters.

"Get that Artoo unit loaded now! What the hells is taking you so long?"

"Sorry, Flight," he called back. "They had problems downloading the memory, they only just finished!"

"Okay," she replied, calming down slightly, "Fast as you can!"

"Aye, Flight."

"Flight?"

Lori turned, looking across at Andi Sedalby who was motioning her towards the newly arrived X-wing. She swore, racing across, "Problems?"

"We need to check the shields," he told her, reaching the top of the ladder and swinging his legs into the cockpit. "The last crew managed to patch them. The pilot thinks they should hold."

"Let’s take a look then," she muttered, clambering up the side of the X-wing.

"There’s not many of us at the moment," Hawkspar was telling Hobbie, "courtesy of a run in with a Star Destroyer."

He glanced at her in resigned agreement, "I know that feeling."

"Hmm," she conceded. Then began, "Which means that you’re going to be flying as wingman at first, despite your experience."

He laughed, "I’ve only ever flown as a wingman! There’s no problem."

They had reached a small group of pilots and Hobbie got the sudden, sinking feeling that this was all that was left of Omega Squadron. Five pilots… only five! Goddess!

"Hi, Boss!" a small woman with dark, shoulder-length curls greeted.

"Morning, everyone," Hawkspar returned and then began the introductions, "Ahab Gee-Em, our newest recruit…" She turned to the only other male pilot in the group, "Baz Ahtron." The other women muttered something about "rookie" which pulled a glare from the bearded man. But he said nothing, reaching out to shake Gee-Em’s hand.

"Hobbie," Ahab told them, "Everyone calls me Hobbie."

"Xen Edraa, my Second," Kaz introduced the woman who had called the greeting.

Xen tucked long black curls behind her ear, shaking Ahab’s hand, "Nice to meet you, Hobbie."

"Lainy Kal’Ten, my Third."

"Welcome to the madhouse, " Lainy greeted, grasping his hand and shaking it warmly.

"Shei Redav," the Commander continued, indicating the other pilot, "Originally an A-wing jockey with Amber Squadron, temporarily assigned to us. We’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to convert her…"

Shei smiled, her azure eyes changing colour to deepest green, startlingly bright against the paleness of her skin. Hobbie smiled, unable to place her species. "Nothing to do with the T-65," she told him, shaking her head, "just the people I am assigned to fly with!" She lifted three-fingered hands to her mouth in the ritual greeting of her people, eye-colour sweeping towards amused gold, "Don’t let them get to you!"

Hobbie laughed, "Can’t be any worse that flying with Antilles…"

"I heard that…" a voice said from behind him.

Hobbie turned and grinned in surprise and delight, "Wedge!" He pulled the smaller man into a hug, telling him, "Goddess, it’s good to see you!" After a moment he pulled away, asking, "Any news about Luke?"

Kaz traded a look with Lainy as Wedge shook his head, telling Gee-Em, "Nothing." He forced a smile, "But don’t they say no news is good news? And knowing Skywalker he’s probably being hidden by a dancer called Mimi who’s fallen for those baby-blues!" They both laughed but Kaz could see the pain beneath Antilles’ smirk.

There were the times when she found herself wondering just how many more would have to die before the Rebel Alliance finally defeated the Empire. She had a suspicious feeling that if she were to lose Lainy or Xen… She pushed the thoughts away, knowing that they would only bring the unwelcome, melancholy mood she always found so hard to shake.

"Hobbie," she interrupted. "Shei’s going to be flying your X-wing on this run."

"I will take very good care of her," Redav assured him.

"Baz, show Hobbie to his quarters and then make sure that he gets some breakfast…"

"Yes, Ma’am," Ahtron acknowledged.

"I’ll see you when you get back?" Gee-Em asked Wedge.

Antilles shook his head, "Sorry, Hobbie, we’re on our way out. Ali and the others should be…" Almost on cue the other Rogue pilots walked into the hangar, "here any moment…" Wedge finished.

Alissha Downhigher saw Hobbie and shrieked in delight, racing across the hangar and enveloping him in a hug before planting a kiss soundly on his lips. "Where the hells have you been?" she demanded, pulling away.

He grinned, "Hello, dear lady." Looking across at the others he greeted, "Paco, Vaziilyi, Linc." He shook hands with them all then laughed again as Linc pulled him into a hug.

"Are you going out now, or catching up?" Vaziilyi asked.

Hobbie shook his head, "Neither…"

"Hobbie’s been reassigned to Omega squadron," Wedge told them. "He’s staying here."

Kaz missed any reply from the Rogue pilots as a hand touched her arm. She turned. "All fighters locked, loaded and ready to fly," Lori Enilra told her. "And the shields on the new fighter will be fine."

Hawkspar nodded, "Thanks, Flight." She turned to the pilots, "All right people. Let’s move it out."

~ * ~

"So," Hobbie asked as he and Baz turned out of the hangar and into the corridors of the Home Two, "what happened with this run in with the Star Destroyer?"

Baz shook his head, "I’m not too sure, they haven’t really talked about it. But Xen, Lainy and the Commander were the only three who survived. And from what I can gather they were pretty surprised that Xen’s X-wing got her back at all. There are people here from the ship the Destroyer was attacking. From what I can gather it evacuated as many people as it could then rammed the Destroyer. Some of them are being shipped out on this run."

Hobbie hefted his kit bag onto his other shoulder, "So how long have you been with Omega?"

"Three days. Lainy’s fine as long as you give as good as you get. I think she and the Commander go way back. I’m not sure about Xen… but be warned, if Xen fixes those eyes on you and flutters her eyelashes – you’re lost!" He grinned, "Not that I’d mind."

Hobbie, laughed then asked, "How long has…" He stopped, realising that he couldn’t remember her name, "… the A-wing pilot…"

"Shei? Not sure. She was here before I arrived. But she’s certainly not as reserved as I’d thought Tridactrell were."

"Tridactrell," Hobbie repeated, the name dropping into place, "Aren’t they contact-telepaths? I didn’t think they liked leaving their home world?"

"Mmm," Baz agreed, "I’m not sure what brought her here… Have you seen her eyes go gold yet? It’s fabulous!"

Baz led him on through the corridors and Hobbie listened to his chat. He was tired, almost bone weary, he realised. But he couldn’t help smiling at Baz’s obvious enthusiasm for life and for everything around him – understanding, as Baz talked, why the others had called him a rookie. With a stab of sadness he recognised that he too felt so much older than this man. His smile faded. Baz certainly wasn’t a boy, he and Hobbie were probably the same age... But that enthusiasm, untainted by the horrors of fighting an enemy as vast and well equipped as the Imperial Navy, made him seem so much younger. "Was I like this, once?" he thought. "Did Wedge, Luke and the others think exactly the same thing about me?"

Probably, he admitted. Hoth had changed that – both the reality and the nightmares that had plagued his sleep since.

He almost walked into Baz as the other pilot stopped, "Well, here we are." He hit the door release and it slid back revealing the small lounge/bedroom area. Baz went in and Hobbie followed, lowering the kit bag from his shoulder. "Home sweet home," Baz quipped then moved towards the door, "I’ll let you settle in and come back to get you."

"Thanks," Hobbie told him, dredging up another smile. Baz nodded, disappearing out the door. Hobbie looked round the room, dumping the kit bag onto the floor and dropped into one of the seats. He slid down, resting his head on the back of the chair, propping his feet up on the low table. "Just a few minutes," he thought. "Then I’ll have a shower, change my clothes..."

The rest of the intent was lost as he fell asleep.

~ * ~

Canopies hissed down, locking forward, the hangar beginning to fill with the sound of engines spooling chromatically up as they warmed and settled. Xen took a deep breath, trying to stop her hands shaking as she worked through the rest of the checklist. Come on, girl, get a grip! But her hands continued to shake, the blood pounding in her ears as she punched in the last sequence and gave the thumbs-up to her ground crew who disappeared to the edge of the hangar.

"Control, this is the Valiant Heart. We’re ready to disengage at your command."

"Valiant Heart, control, standby."

Xen took another deep breath, letting it out slowly as she heard Hawkspar’s voice in her earpiece, "Control, this is Alpha Leader requesting check-in."

"Alpha Leader, go ahead."

"Roger that Control. Alpha Escort, all wings check in!" Kaz ordered.

Please don’t let my voice crack, Xen thought, hearing Wedge Antilles make his call. Please don’t let my voice crack. She pressed her mike switch, "Alpha Three, standing by." Relief flowed in as she heard her own voice in the earpiece, strong, calm and steady. Then she realised that her hands had stopped shaking, the familiar flutter of anticipation beginning to settle in her stomach. Piece of cake... I hope.

Hawkspar grinned as the last pilot checked in. "Copied," she acknowledged. "Hangar Control, Alpha Escort ready to lift."

"Control, this is the Troubadour Aayirdree, we’re ready to lift at your command."

"Roger Troubadour. Alpha Escort stand by. Valiant, docking clamps are disengaged. Set course at your discretion. The Troubadour and Alpha lifting shortly from hangar bay 5."

"Copied, control. Pulling away now."

"Roger that, Valiant. Troubadour, clear lift."

At the observation window above the hangar, Daaven Notrahw and Maggs Ronnoc both watched as an alarm klaxon sounded, the Deck Officer’s voice warning, "Freighter lifting in section Two. All personnel remain clear of section Two."

On cue, the Troubadour rose gently off the hangar floor, pirouetting gracefully in mid-air and drifted towards the hangar mouth. The klaxon warbled again. "All ground crew evacuate Section One!" the Deck Officer ordered, "All ground crew evacuate Section One!" Notrahw watched as the engineers scattered towards the edge of the hangar, leaving only the marshallers standing in front of the fighters.

"Alpha Escort, clear lift. Force be with you."

Kaz grinned again, "Alpha lifting now. Thanks, control."

Following the marshaller’s instructions she eased the X-wing off the deck, hearing the gentle triple thwump as the landing gear retracted. The three green lights on the console turned to amber for a moment before flickering into darkness. "Gear locked," she muttered to herself, "Revs still in the green. Ready to go."

The marshaller held the pads above his head, swinging them backwards, indicating that she was clear of the other fighters, with an open path to the hangar mouth. Then he gave her a thumbs-up and bolted for the edge of the hangar. Kaz pushed the controls forward and the X-wing moved towards the starlit blackness beyond the bright lighting of the hangar.

~ * ~

Zeta Flight dropped out of hyperspace almost on top of their target. Flight Leader Reeve Templ smiled at what he saw – just as the Fleet Commander had outlined at the briefing, one freighter, unarmed, and heavy with supplies. "Just like in the sims boys," Templ ordered. "Lock on target."

All the pilots soon checked in to confirm their ready status.

"Fire!"

Fourteen Interceptors fired their two Proton torpedoes each, all perfectly synchronised with the others. The shielding on the freighter could not withstand twenty-eight simultaneous hits, and collapsed, rocking the ship. No chance for a distress signal was allowed. By the time the first wave of torpedoes were half way to the target, the second wave had been fired and were already on their way.

Within moments of arriving at the designated co-ordinates, Zeta Flight took its first kill. They paused very briefly to watch the spectacular explosion, and then with clinical detachment returned to hyperspace.

~ * ~