Omega Sqadron Black Knights
Chapter 10

Kaz Hawkspar checked the chronometer again, chewing on the inside of her lip. Ten minutes, ten more minutes then they were out of here. She couldn’t risk any more time, as much as she may like to. She searched the data readouts again, willing them to show her the tell-tale signs of a ship about to drop out of hyperspace. But the screens remained oppressively blank.

"Boss?"

"Yup?"

There was a moment’s silence, then Xen asked quietly, "When’s she arriving?"

Kaz sighed softly, knowing exactly whom her Second was talking about. She had been waiting for some sort of question over the last few days, ever since she had told Xen that her sister was joining them. A wash of emotion that Kaz hadn’t been able to identify had brushed across Xen’s face – and then her expression had switched to neutral disinterest, leaving Kaz with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had sounded Lainy out about it. Kal’Ten’s first reaction had been much like her own, Xen has a sister? Then she had shrugged, telling Kaz there was nothing she could do about it until Emaar arrived. Only, in true Lainy form, she’d finished with a grin, "And if she causes any problems we kick her out the squadron! Ha-ha!"

Glancing across at the X-wing riding on her starboard side, Kaz told her Second, "Probably sometime this evening…" She waited for a moment, then asked, "Xen, is this going to be a problem? She doesn’t have to join the Knights…"

"I don’t know, Boss," Xen admitted. A trace of coldness crept into her voice, "But if it is, it’s her problem, not mine. She can deal with it. My place is here."

Hawkspar frowned, "You want to talk about this?" When Xen said nothing, she pushed, "If I know what’s going on Xen, I can help."

"I…" Xen began. And then the droids warbled a warning, dumping data onto the screens and she shouted, "Jump point forming!"

Adrenaline crashing through her, Kaz confirmed, "I see it! Point three nine five"

Almost in unison they swung their fighters round to face the area. Heart hammering in her chest, Xen watched as the stars erupted into a flash of light, throwing the ship out into normal space before disappearing behind it. She swallowed hard. It didn’t look familiar and the transponder wasn’t…

And then a voice crackled in her ear-piece, "Alpha escort, Alpha escort, this is the Coral Brekin, do you copy? Alpha escort, Alpha escort, this is the Coral Brekin. Do you copy?"

"Coral Brekin," Kaz grinned, "this is Alpha Leader, reading you loud and clear."

"Alpha Leader, thank the Goddess! We were worried you couldn’t wait for us! We’ve got serious problems! The ship we were to rendezvous with before coming here was hit, completely destroyed! There are survivors, our sensors picked them up, but we have no facilities for a rescue! We had to leave them!"

Kaz swore, the images of the Richlo’s Rest ramming the Star Destroyer returning, unbidden to her mind. A cold, determined calm stole through her, one part of her mind beginning to run through the possibilities open to her as another part dealt with sorting the Coral out, getting the ship safely to the Home Two. "Arfore," she told her droid, "send them the Home Two co-ordinates." She flipped the mike switch, "Roger that Coral, transmitting your jump co-ordinates now. Lock them in and report ready. And send across the survivors’ position!"

~ # ~

Mon Mothma stood at the observation window, watching the ship that would take Elhen Anders to the Home Two slide gracefully from beneath the docking corridor, pirouette and accelerate away. For a long moment after it disappeared she continued to stand at the window, gazing out at the stars.

Another Death Star… It was so obvious a possibility that it was ridiculous to think that she had never considered it. And yet she hadn’t. The whole idea was so monstrous that she had never even entertained the thought that Palpatine would build another one. An oversight that was, once again, going to cost peoples’ lives…

She sighed, softly, unable to stop the wash of dismay. She was a diplomat – a politician. She was not a war general…

Darrik Hawkspar, sensing her mood, dropped a reassuring hand onto her shoulder. "She’ll bring him out," he told her.

Mothma turned, smiling sadly up at him, saying nothing as she moved away. But she stopped, turning back when he asked, "Do you know why she wanted to call Omega the Black Knights?"

Puzzled at the sudden change of topic, but knowing Darrik of old and therefore knowing that whatever he had to say would have some bearing on what was going on, Mothma walked back towards him, "No…"

"My wife was from the Preth province of Tureinch," he began. "There’s a folk-tale from there that she used to tell Kazlyn, of an ancient time when people still believed the world to be flat and the land was split into different nations. The King of Preth was much loved by his people - a wise and beneficent ruler. But he was old and the time came for him to pass on. And first the people grieved for their beloved King. And then they rejoiced as his son took the throne."

Mothma watched his eyes take on a distant focus as he continued, "But their joy was short-lived. The son proved to be a tyrant, signing new and unfair decrees, bringing in taxes that bled the people dry. So while he grew fat and rich, the people suffered."

"Finally, one of the noble families defied the new King. Refusing to bring in any more taxes from the people living on his land, the noble Lord warned the King that winter was approaching. There was already little enough grain in the barns, few enough animals in the field and that to bring in any more would leave the people starving. The King flew into a rage. He had the noble Lord killed, the Lord’s castle raised to the ground, the barns set alight, the animals slaughtered and the noble family thrown into the King’s dungeons."

"Snow was beginning to fall as the fires in the ruined castle slowly burned themselves out. A young farmhand who had played as a child with the Lord’s son, picked through the wreckage, looking for food. Instead he found a charred, blackened suit of armour. And he realised that in his twenty years of life he had never ever seen the Lord wearing it. There had been no need in the happier times of the old King."

"And so he vowed, there and then, that he would avenge his Lord’s death – King or no King – and set his friend and the family free. He took the armour, hiding it in the forest then went to an old man in the village who had once been a soldier. Throughout the harsh winter he trained with the old man, learning the art of soldiery."

"Spring came and stories started to fly through Preth of a Black Knight who raided the King’s stock and left feasts at the doors of starving families. Some whispered that it was the spirit of the Old King, others that it was the ghost of the murdered Lord. All through the land, small bands of men and women formed, using the Black Knight as their war cry, stopping and plundering Sovereign wagons as they rolled towards the King’s Castle."

"Then, one night, the unthinkable happened. The farmhand was caught. With great delight the King ordered him executed. And so, dressed in the black armour, the young farmhand was hung, his body left dangling outside the Sovereign Castle as a warning to all who would defy the King."

"But the old soldier told all the villagers of the farmhand’s vow and the word spread like wild fire. A plot was hatched to free the noble family - that even in death the Black Knight’s pledge could be kept. But only the Lord’s son could be smuggled out of the dungeons. And when he heard of his friend’s vow and sacrifice he made his own promise."

"In a daring raid, the body of the Black Knight was cut down from the battlements and spirited into the countryside. Finally, it came to this – the people rose up against the tyrant King. A great army stormed the Sovereign Castle, lead by the young Lord in his father’s blackened armour. And at his back, at the head of each rank there stood a man or woman also in armour, the metal smeared black with soot and dirt…"

He paused, his eyes focussing back into the room. Looking at Mothma he laughed softly, "As with all faerie-tales, there’s a happy ending. The Black Knights routed the castle, the King was killed and the Noble families of the land set the young Lord as King, where he ruled wisely, happily and long – and had many children. And the land of Preth flourished once again."

He stepped forward, taking her hands in his, "But that’s why Kazlyn called the squadron The Black Knights. And it’s you who are standing there, right in front of that army."

Mothma considered him for a moment, then asked, "Are you suggesting that I should wear charred armour, Darrik, or are you suggesting I learn the art of soldiery?"

The spark in her eyes belied the serious tone of her voice and Darrik smiled. "Neither. What I’m saying is that the fight has already begun. No matter what happens, it will go on."

She looked at him, her eyes melancholy once more, "No matter how many die…"

He grunted in exasperation and turned away from her, "Oh, give me strength!"

"Darrik…" she began.

But he turned back, cutting her off, "You are not personally responsible for the lives of the people who have followed you and joined the Alliance, woman! You are not personally responsible for the death of the Kal’Ten family or any of the other friends we lost on Coruscant – or Alderaan! You are not personally responsible for sending Kazlyn into…"

His voice broke and he swallowed back the emotion. She stood watching him, saying nothing, terrified that anything she did would cause his tears to flow. And that would only make her break down and weep.

He shook his head, taking hold of her hands again, "You are at the head of the Alliance to restore the Republic. But if it wasn’t you, it would be someone else – and the Rebellion wouldn’t be half as organised or half as powerful as it’s become. You cannot continue to take the full weight of the Alliance, of every death on your shoulders! You are not super-human! You are the kindest, gentlest, most caring person it has ever been my privilege to know. That has always been your advantage, even in the Senate! People supported you because you genuinely care…"

He shook his head, "But if you go on like this… you’ll destroy yourself."

She looked up at him, trying to explain, trying to make him understand, attempting finally, "I should have realised before this that he would build another Death Star…"

He nodded, countering, "So should I. So should Larsa. So should… so should our Intelligence people. But we didn’t! And as far as we are aware, it could all be rumour. Until we bring that man out of Coruscant or infiltrate the Bothan Naval Yards we won’t know for sure. It’s a huge, a horrendously huge undertaking to build another one of those things. And it’s horrifying to think that he may already be building it without our knowledge."

"Moff Tarkin’s plans," she reminded him gently, "were only that – or so we thought – on the day the Death Star destroyed Alderaan."

"That was almost four years ago…"

She opened her mouth to saying something else and he held up a hand to stop her, "Look. All I’m asking is that you stop worrying about it until we at least have it confirmed. Then we can all worry about."

~ # ~

Arm still round Wil’s waist, Catterin walked across to the three other pilots. She had already rummaged in her pocket for the data pad and was keying through the pages, looking for the names of the pilots. However she had a suspicion that the names on the list would not match the pilots who had arrived – Wil’s name hadn’t been on it. And all three of them looked human at this distance. At least one of the pilots she was expecting was an Iridonian Zabrak…

She grinned as she stopped in front of them, glancing at the pad again, "I don’t suppose that any of you are Thierr Keei?"

The taller of the two men returned her grin, drawling, "No, Ma’am." Then he stuck out his hand, glancing at Wil and announcing, "Pete Rindu at your service."

"Hands off, buddy!" Wil warned good-naturedly, as Catterin took the proffered hand, intending to shake it - only to have Pete lift her hand to his mouth and plant a kiss on her fingers. "I have first call on the…" Wil glanced at Catterin’s rank pin, then continued, "…Lieutenant here."

Rindu’s grin widened, his eyes sparking mischief, Catterin’s hand still caught in his grip. "And what’s yer wife gonna say?"

"Pete, my old buddy, meet Catterin Poom-Bar. My wife. Catterin, this is my ferry piloting, womanising buddy. Watch him. He’s Corellian."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," Catterin grinned, removing her hand as Rindu swore and pulled a face. She patted him gently on the cheek in a "there-there" gesture, then turned to the other pilots, ignoring the low growl from her husband.

"Dalhanyo Grandeen," the second man introduced himself, nervous despite the smile he gave her, "Joining the Knights."

"Dal… han.. yo.. Grand… een…" Catterin repeated, punching his name into the pad. She looked back up, giving him a reassuring smile then turned to the woman. There was something familiar about her that Catterin couldn’t quite place - even when she told Catterin her name. It wasn’t until she was keying the name into the data pad that it suddenly hit her. And then the dark eyes and the dark curls fell into place, although the shape of her mouth was different, her nose slightly longer.

Xen Emaar.

~ # ~

"Got that, Goose!" Lainy acknowledged as her Artoo droid burbled at her warning that they were almost at the drop-out point for the Home Two. Frowning slightly, she ran over the events one more time in her head, just to check that she was about to make the right decision. Goose mewled at her and she braced herself for the sudden deceleration as the X-wing dropped out of the hyperspace corridor and into normal space. Giving a cursory check to make sure that Shei and the Troubadour were still with her, she toggled the comms switch.

"Home Two, Home Two, this is Alpha Three! We need immediate refuel for Alphas Three and Four. Alpha One and Two still awaiting the arrival of the other freighter!"

"Roger that, Alpha Three. Standby. Troubadour, route direct to Docking Bay Six."

Bess glanced across at his pilot who was already nodding affirmation, fingers dancing across the console. Rishard slapped the switch, "Copied, Home Two, routing to Dock Six."

The repulsor lift door opened and Daav Notrahw stepped onto the bridge of the Home Two, walking softly across to stand by the Command Chair and watch the data readouts on the screens. The traffic controller turned as an ops officer shouted that the Omega crews were readying for the refuel. She gave him the thumbs up, "Alpha Three, route direct to your hangar."

"About time!" Lainy muttered to herself, then toggled the switch, "Roger, Home Two, routing in. Alpha Four did you copy?"

"Confirmed," Shei replied. "Right behind you."

Notrahw slid into the chair, "Report."

The Ops Officer turned, "Alphas One and Two have stayed at the rendezvous point. The Coral Brekin was late. Alphas Three and Four are requesting immediate refuel ."

"They’re going back out…" It was a statement, not a question, more to himself than anything else.

But the Ops Officer answered. "I’m not sure, Sir. Kal’Ten didn’t state her intentions."

Notrahw gave him a quick nod, then turned his attention back to the data screens. The repulsor lift door opened again and Maggs Ronnoc stepped out, walking across to stand by his elbow. "Problems, Sir?"

Daav turned, "Possibly. One of the freighters was late. The Troubadour’s come back with an escort but Hawkspar and Edraa have stayed at the rendezvous. Kal’Ten’s requested immediate refuel. Looks like she wants to go back out…"

Maggs looked across at the Ops Officer, "Where’s the Troubadour going?"

"Docking bay Six."

"Tell the Captain not to leave the ship until I’ve talked to him!" she ordered. Then she turned back to Notrahw, "Do you want to sit in on Kal’Ten’s debrief, Sir?"

Notrahw shook his head, keeping his attention on the screens in front of him. "No. I’ll leave that firmly in your capable hands, Lieutenant."

~ # ~

Once again, Zeta Flight approached the co-ordinates. This time the target was a surprise to them all. Even with the propaganda surrounding the Rebel terrorists, they all balked a little at the idea of taking out a Medical Frigate.

The problem, however, was taken out of their hands as the Star Destroyer that they used as a base also dropped out of hyperspace. Flight Leader Templ considered the implications of this even as he ordered his men to get ready. The Frigate quite obviously had not spotted them as yet, as the six strong fighter escort of A-wings had not strayed from their course.

Fleet Commander Martellon had been a little vague about the plan with this target, as Zeta had done a running refuel and left again in short order. The reason for the brevity of the orders had become apparent as they dropped out of hyperspace, as the target was far too large for Zeta themselves to take out.

There was a sound form the Comm unit, as Templ’s orders came through.

Zeta was to concentrate on the fighters, and allow the Star Destroyer Domination to take on the Frigate, now identified as the Regimen Hope. The Flight Leader considered his options, and quickly decided to allow his pilots a little leeway this time. Six A-wings were no match for fourteen heavily-upgraded TIE Interceptors. Templ activated the ship-to-ship Comm and gave his orders, "Zeta Flight, this is Zeta Leader, attack pattern Delta. Report readiness."

"Zeta two confirmed, pattern Delta," came the voice of Lieutenant Naagen, shortly followed by all the others.

"Okay boys, let’s go before they see us first." Templ banked his fighter and led the way to battle as the Domination turned to engage the Regimen Hope.

The Rebel A-wings responded shortly after the TIEs commenced the attack run, and managed to put up a token defence of the Regimen Hope before they were all annihilated. Zeta had suffered only slight damage to one ship, still with all systems go.

Templ turned his attention to the struggle between the Domination and the Regimen Hope, shuddering slightly as he witnessed the terrible damage that the Rebel ship was taking. Being only lightly armed itself, the Regimen Hope was evidently no match for the weaponry of the Imperial ship.

With no further orders forthcoming from the Domination, Templ decided to take the initiative and assist the destruction of the Rebel terrorists who seemed so damned stubbornly bent on overthrowing the only stable government that this part of the Galaxy had known.

Templ ordered his men to attack the Frigate with all force available. Upon his order a stream of proton torpedoes was launched towards the ailing ship, striking true and causing horrific explosions to erupt from the surface of the ship. As soon as the weapon systems were ready, another stream of torpedoes were launched, and again struck the Regimen Hope with deadly accuracy and force. It appeared that the Domination had stepped up its attack, with the flurry of Turbolasers fire and torpedoes. Templ took this as a sign that the crew of the Imperial ship had some sort of readout as to the situation of its target.

"It must be about to blow, guys," observed Templ into the Comm unit. "Let’s get out of here, and get some sleep."

"Copy that, Zeta Leader," came the subdued voice of Zeta three. "I feel as though I need a shower."

With that, the TIE’s were rocked by a chain of massive explosions as the Regimen Hope finally succumbed to the hail of laser fire from the Star Destroyer, and ripped itself apart. Templ ordered swift action from the pilots, "Take evasive action. Get back to the Domination."

~ # ~

Lainy’s eyes widened as she saw newly arrived X-wings lined up along the hanger wall. Quickly, she revised her plans. This was going to be even better! Of course, it depended on how fast Flight Enilra could ready them to fly… But she couldn’t stop the grin that slowly spread itself across her face.

Excitement growing, she followed the marshallers instructions, setting the X-wing down, running through the shutdown checks. The canopy snapped back, hissing upwards and Lori Enilra appeared at her side at the top of the ladder.

"We’ll do a running refuel!" the Flight yelled over the noise of the engines. "They’re hooking up the pumps now!"

Lainy undid the chinstrap of her helmet, pulling it off, "Brilliant!" She indicated the line of T-65s, "When did the others arrive?"

Lori glanced round at the fighters then looked back, yelling, "Not long after you left!"

"Are they fit to fly?"

Lori looked at her for a moment. Then swore, realising what Lainy was asking. "I’ll find the pilots!" she assured her.

"I’ll need to brief them!"

"I’ll warn the Deck Officer." Then she slid back down the ladder to the hangar floor, running towards Ymra’s niche.

Aryes Drayke stood beside Shei Redav’s Chief. "Ready the other X-wings!" Lori yelled at them. Ary opened his mouth to say something but Lori yelled at them again, cutting them off, "NOW!"

They both turned, running towards the milling crews. Ymra grinned at her, asking, "What do you need?"

"All of the Omega pilots here! On the double! And the nearest free briefing room."

~ # ~

Hobbie was awake and running before the second warble of the alarm had sounded, momentary confusion forgotten as he remembered he was on the Home Two. He ran along the corridor, heading back the way he thought he had come with Baz, hoping that the rest of the route would fall into place.

The initial adrenaline rush faded, leaving an uneasy feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. Omega wasn’t a full squadron. Hells, the only fighters Omega had were out on escort duty. If this was an attack by Imperial forces there was nothing they could do but pray that the Home Two’s laser batteries would be enough to repel the attack. But with fighters as fast and manoeuvrable as TIEs…

He pushed away the memories of Imperial fighters flooding in towards them on the scrambled escape for Hoth, the transport he was trying to defend taking hit after hit after hit before finally escaping into hyperspace.

Enough! Get over it!

But he had lost too many friends, lost too many people he cared about. Including…

He shoved her memory abruptly back behind his defences.

Reaching a junction in the corridor he skidded to a stop, looking first in one direction, then the other. Then finally admitted that he was lost. Choosing a direction he headed along the corridor, knowing that he should at some point find a repulsor lift and that he could at least get to the right deck!

~ # ~

Two sectors away Martellon watched the Tactical display as it showed Zeta Flight head back towards the Domination. Soon they would be back in hyperspace, readying themselves to take out more of the Rebel supply ships. Maybe even another medical frigate. This last mission – finding the Rebel frigate so soon after the first freighter had been hit - had been a stroke of luck Martellon hadn’t counted on.

His teachings in the Dark Side of the Force had shown him that to trust to luck was foolish. Luck was for those too weak to make their own destiny. The Force was the controlling influence, but few realised just how much their own actions and intentions mould their future. His musings were disrupted, however.

All fourteen of the fighters that made up Zeta Flight were on final approach to the Imperial Destroyer, the pilots intending to dock and finally get to bed. But just as Templ was about to execute his final turn, some new information presented itself on the Tactical display. More ships arriving.

Acting on a hunch, Templ ordered his men to abort their approach to the Domination, and to check out the new signals with all speed. They all wheeled and shot off back towards the shattered Frigate.

"What the…?"

Wedge Antilles swore, yanking the X-wing round the debris that flared against his shields the moment he dropped out of hyperspace. His Artoo unit was screaming at him, dumping data onto the screens faster than he could read it as he tried to dodge huge chunks of metal…

Metal…

Horror wrapping itself round his stomach, he corkscrewed round another piece of debris and checked quickly through the data. Then hit the com switch, knowing that he wasn’t going to get a reply but praying he was wrong. "Regimen Hope? Regimen Hope? This is Rogue leader, do you copy?"

Off to his left, Alissha yelled, "Boss! Star Destroyer! Bearing point… three two eight!"

At almost the same moment Antilles’ tactical screen went wild, his sensors picking out the bulk of the Imperial ship from the surrounding wreckage. And then TIEs began to appear from the Destroyer’s shadow… Eight… ten… no… fourteen. For a brief moment he floundered in the enormity of the situation.

And then his battle-trained instincts kicked in. "Steady, guys. Keep it calm. We need to buy the transports time to make it back into hyperspace." He switched the tactical screen. Ninety seconds now until the freighters dropped in. Only eighty until the TIEs were in firing range.

"Boss, my shields are almost gone," Paco warned. "Got side swiped by wreckage as I dropped in. They’re not going to last."

~ # ~

Maggs Ronnoc reached the hangar, stopping for a moment at the door to watch all the activity going on and realising almost immediately that this was more than simply two fighters returning. She scanned the area, finally seeing Lainy Kal’Ten as the Lieutenant finished speaking with Ymra and turned to the small group of pilots behind her. Poom-Bar appeared to be introducing two of them, Lainy shaking their hands. Then she turned, saying something to Baz Ahtron, who saluted and took off out of the far door at a run. Then Lainy said something to Poom-Bar. They were close enough for Maggs to see the change in Poom-Bar's attitude: from light-heartedness to attentive professionalism. Then she nodded and turned, moving quickly across the hanger towards the Omage rescue shuttle. The others turned, following Kal'Ten as she walked across the hanger.

Maggs moved, intercepting them, calling, "Lieutenant, I need a quick word."

Lainy knew better than to argue with her. Maggs Ronnoc may pose as the Vice Admiral’s Aide, but right from the moment they had arrived on the Home Two, Kaz had warned her that when Maggs asked questions, you gave Maggs answers. Kaz had never qualified the statement, but Lainy was pretty damned sure that Lieutenant Maggs Ronnoc was not only Alliance Intelligence but probably Notrahw’s personal bodyguard as well. So she nodded, telling the others, "Briefing Room Eight! Five minutes. Let Baz and Hobbie know."

"So, Lieutenant," she continued, Maggs dropping into step beside her as she started towards the exit again, "what can I do for you?"

"The Admiral would like to know what happened?" Ronnoc asked simply.

"Admiral, my ass!" Lainy thought, glancing down at her. But she bit back a smart retort, beginning, "The Coral Brekin was late for the rendezvous. By the time the transfer had been made from the Troubadour to the Austen Marke the freighter still hadn’t appeared. Kaz sent Shei and me back to cover the Troubadour and stayed at the rendezvous with Xen."

Maggs frowned, "So why are you scrambling the rest of the squadron?"

"I got the idea," Lainy told her dryly, "that Kaz was going to wait for the ship no matter how long it took. My CO and the squadron Second are out there on their own. If the Imperial Navy has taken the Brekin…"

"If the Imperial Navy has taken the Coral Brekin," Maggs interrupted, "Hawkspar and Edraa are already dead. Or in Imperial hands, in which case we need you here, defending the Home Two."

Lainy swallowed down a flash of anger, forcing her voice to remain calm, "I’m not leaving Kaz and Xen out there on their own."

"Lieutenant Kal’Ten…" Maggs tried to interrupt.

But Lainy stopped dead, forcing the other woman to a halt. "Lieutenant Ronnoc," she began, drawing herself up to her full height, her voice low and dangerous. Anger and worry burned in the pit of her belly, but a small voice at the back of her mind was warning her to stay in control, not to lose her head. "The last time my CO was left out at a rendezvous with no back-up, she spent the following three days in a Bacta tank and the next four weeks learning to walk again."

Maggs opened her mouth, but Lainy silenced her with a look, her voice still low and measured as she continued, "My squadron Second is only just out of a Bacta tank and if we weren’t so short of pilots she wouldn’t even have been on today’s mission. So with all due respect, Lieutenant, you can take your manipulating, scheming, Intelligence mind set and shove it where the suns don’t shine!"

Maggs gave her a long, hard, appraising look, seeing the worry and the anger behind her eyes. And also seeing the self-control it had taken for her to remain so calm. This was not the joker - the Ell Mo - that she had seen so often. This was a young woman who had suddenly done a lot of growing up and found her place in the universe. For a brief moment Maggs wondered just how well she would fare as an intelligence agent…

Then she grinned, watching Lainy take a step back at the unexpected reaction. "Keep talking like that, Kal’Ten," Maggs warned, "and Lieutenant Commander Edraa won’t be the only one just out of a Bacta tank." She let the threat hang for a moment then started to turn towards the hangar exit. "And now that we’ve got the insults out of the way and we both know exactly where we stand, you’d better let me know your plans for the Knights after you launch."

~ # ~

On the bridge of the Domination, Fleet Commander Martellon ordered the scan of communications frequencies that would allow him to listen in on the broadcasts from the X-wings. The patch was completed just in time for him to hear only one sentence.

"…..Regimen Hope, this is Rogue Leader, do you copy?"

Martellon only smiled. He would allow Templ to take care of it.

He rose gracefully from his chair, and strode from the Command Centre in the direction of his chambers. He needed to gather his thoughts and commune with his spirit for a while, before speaking to his Master. For the first time, Martellon was actually looking forward to telling the Emperor of his successful plan, and about just how much it was hurting the Rebel Alliance.

His planted contact within the crew of the Home Two would soon be active. It had been unfortunate that his previous source of information within the Rebel forces had been killed during an accident. Surely they must realise that they are letting information slip. That obviously was not the case, as they certainly weren’t feeding him false information to draw out his source, they were taking far too many losses for that to be the case. His new plant was well placed, and should remain hidden from suspicion for quite some time.

The one thing that marred the success was that he still could not find out the location of the gathering of the Rebel Fleet. It was only a matter of time before they found the location of the second Death Star. He reached the door to his chamber, and prodded the release button hard, in frustration. If only he could find out where they were to gather, he could pre-empt the whole issue and destroy them before the Death Star was in any danger.

As he stalked to his meditation chamber, Martellon realised that he could sense a climax approaching. Still far enough off to not be of immediate concern, but a climax nonetheless. Martellon needed no contact on the Home Two to tell him that supplies were getting short. They would have to rendezvous with some other ships soon, or major problems would ensue. And we don’t want that do we? No, it wouldn’t be a fair fight if Omega and Zeta were to meet up and the Knights were all fatigued and hungry.

Martellon sat cross-legged on the floor in the centre of his meditation circle. As his eyes closed he felt the familiar tug of the Dark side on his consciousness. This time it would not distract him. His mind was too clear, and too much his own this time. His exercises would go well today.

~ # ~

"Why the hells is that refuel pipe still attached to that T-65?" Lori Enilra yelled at Lainy Kal’Ten’s crew.

Jag Maritz appeared from beneath the fighter, pushing himself to his feet, "We had problems getting the outer safety ring locked, Flight," he told her. "We’ve only just begun to refuel."

She swore again, beginning to get that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, "Hells! How long before she’s ready?"

Maritz grinned, "Kal’Ten brought her in more than half full. It shouldn’t be too long."

Lori almost grinned back at him, but remembered herself just in time. She pulled her face into a frown, ordering, "Quick as you can!" Then she turned, walking round the hanger, checking the other crews’ progress and allowing herself a little spark of pride as she glanced at the chronometer. Fifteen minutes. Just under fifteen minutes since Kal’Ten had asked for the other fighters to be readied. And apart from Kal’Ten’s T-65, the squadron’s fighters were ready and waiting for their pilots.

Damn it, lads, but we’re good!

~ # ~

"Paco, stay close. But if it gets too hot, get the hells out! Don’t take any chances!"

"Roger that, Boss."

"No-one take any chances! We buy the transports the time they need to recalculate and escape into hyperspace. Then we all get the hells out of here! Retrace the jump to the rendezvous. Don’t wait for my order, once the transports go, we go! And set your artoo units to transmit continuous distress. The transports will need as much warning as we can give them."

In short order, Zeta Flight had closed on what turned out to be a group of four X-wings. Templ couldn’t help smiling as he realised that the fighters were having difficulty dodging the debris from the Regimen Hope. His smile widened to a predatory grin as he spotted the tell tale signs of more ships approaching from hyperspace.

"Zetas Eight to Fourteen," ordered Templ, thinking quickly, "Split off and check out the new signals approaching. Zetas Two to Seven, follow me."

"Copy that Zeta Leader," Zeta Eight’s voice confirmed.

Templ barely managed to check his orders had been carried out as a hail of blaster fire erupted around him. The Rebels evidently had spotted them. Templ decided that they would pay and opened fire with his own blasters, but did not target the fighter that had attacked him. He fired at the fighter’s wingman. Surprisingly the ship burst almost immediately into flame and exploded as Templ’s blasters took the X-wing on the top, just behind the Astromech droid. Obviously its shields must have been damaged.

More blaster fire tracked Templ’s flight path as he spiralled around another chunk of metal. None of the fighters, Rebel or Imperial were able to score any more hits as they were too busy dodging debris to get a full lock with the targeting systems.

The Imperial Flight Leader was just able to split his attention enough to spot that the new signals had developed into freighters. Unfortunately, the remaining ships of Zeta Flight were still not within range before the X-wings managed to warn them off, and they returned to hyperspace.

With the freighters safe, the remaining X-wings backed off and turned tail, spiralling away and disappearing into hyperspace after the larger ships they were to protect.

~ # ~

Lainy had outlined the plan, such as it was, and Maggs had grudgingly agreed with the strategy, even down to taking the Rescue shuttle along. Lainy hadn't been able to qualify her reasoning, saying simply that she had a hunch they might need it. Now Maggs sat at the back of the briefing room, watching as the other pilots filed in, sliding into their seats, the air of expectancy tangible in the small room.

Lainy waited until Hobbie and Baz - the last to arrive - sat down then began, "Okay, people, this is the situation. The Coral Brekin failed to rendezvous with us. Commander Hawkspar stayed at the jump point with Xen, leaving Shei and myself to ride escort to the Troubadour. Now I may be wrong, but I have a feeling that the Commander is planning to wait for the Coral to arrive. So we're going out to back her up."

She looked at Emaar and Grandeen, "Are you joining us from other squadrons or are you being thrown in at the deep end?"

"I did some simulator time, but that's about all," Dalhanyo told her.

"I've flown fighters," Emaar offered. "But the first time I sat in a T-65 outside of a sim was on the way here."

Oh boy, Lainy thought. Then she grinned, "Baptism by fire, then. Emaar, you pair up with me. Dalhanyo, you ride wingman to Shei. Baz you're with Hobbie."

They all murmured agreement. "The mission itself is quite simple," Lainy continued. "The jump co-ordinates are already being fed into your Artoo units, and it's a single jump to the rendezvous." She looked across at the Tridactrell and the Supply, "Shei, you and Dalhanyo will shadow Catterin in the rescue shuttle." The pilots nodded in acknowledgement and Lainy turned to the others, "Emaar and I will take point, Hobbie and Baz you'll follow. If we arrive and there's no sign of the Commander or Xen, then we know that we've missed them and we reverse course, jumping back to the Home Two. If they're still there when we arrive, then we do as Commander Hawkspar directs. Now that may mean changing the pairings, but as you won't have had time to get used to flying with one another, that shouldn't create too much of a problem."

She gripped the lectern, giving them all a flat, level stare. "In the event that anything goes wrong I don't want any heroics. Do exactly as you're ordered, even if that means leaving for the Home Two on your own. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" they chorused.

Lainy stepped back, grinning, "Fine. We don't anticipate any trouble, but you can never be sure. And we have no idea why the Coral was late for the rendezvous." She scanned their faces, "Any questions?"

They shook their heads, Hobbie stifling a yawn. Lainy grinned, her excitement beginning to build. "All right then, people, get to your fighters."


~ * ~