Omega Sqadron Black Knights
Chapter 12

Lainy Kal’Ten scanned the area, willing the Fates that she had missed something; that they would find just one more person alive… But all she saw was debris: the twisted remains of the freighter and the cargo that had been ruptured into space.

She swore, anger beginning to build inside her. The Coral’s Captain was right: this had been no accident. The freighter had been destroyed in an Imperial attack. The tell tail signatures of TIE fighter engines hadn’t yet dissipated. They hadn’t found any evidence of a larger ship, but TIEs weren’t long-range fighters and as there were no Imperial bases within striking distance of here, that could only mean a carrier of some sort, most probably a Star Destroyer…

Concern for the rest of the squadron vied with her desperate hope that they would find more survivors. If the Imperials turned up again to check on their handiwork or to see if a rescue attempt had been made, the X-wings wouldn’t stand a chance. And the chances of them being able to buy time for Poom-Bar to get the rescue shuttle to safety weren’t that good. They had already been here for nearly two hours: she couldn’t afford to stay much longer. But at the back of her mind was the worry that she had overlooked something – that she had missed the flickering signs of someone’s fight to survive.

Yet another scan came up empty. And all the rescue pods had been found…

The anger built. There were some pieces of wreckage large enough to have supported air pockets… but there were no life signs. And of all the undamaged pods they had recovered, only two had been occupied. Four people from a crew of forty.

She swore, punching the edge of the dash with the palm of her hand. Damn you, Palpatine! Damn you to Eternity! Her thoughts swept back to the last conversation she remembered her mother having with Kaz’s father. It had stopped as soon as she had gone into the room, but as she had walked through the hall towards the voices she had heard her mother concur, "I totally agree, Darrik. Mon Mothma is right to be concerned. That man is going to destroy half the galaxy with his lust for power."

She had been right. Only she hadn’t lived to see it.

Tears threatened, burning the back of her eyes, but she took a deep breath, forcing them down. This was not the time or the place…

She pressed the transmit switch, "Shei, Hobbie, anything?"

Redav scanned the readouts again and shook her head sadly, answering, "There are no indications of life."

"Nothing here, Boss."

"Poom-Bar?"

"Nothing, Lainy. Looks like we got everyone."

"Anyone see anything else?"

The answer was a resounding negative. Lainy chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, checking the chronometer, "Catterin, how are your guests doing?"

"Scared and mostly in shock. One major leg wound that’s under control."

"Okay, give it another ten minutes, then we head back."

~ * ~

Ary swore as he checked the stress analysis readings from the left coolant coupling on Hawkspar’s fighter. "Flight?"

She ducked beneath the T-65 and walked towards him, knowing from the look on his face that the news wasn’t good. "Don’t tell me?"

He nodded, glancing across at her then squinted back into the innards of the fuselage, "Yup, we’ll need to replace this one too. Readings show a hairline fracture of the main flange."

"Same place?"

"Almost."

Lori muttered a curse under her breath, and looked at the data. A small voice began to worry at the back of her mind. It was entirely possible that this crack had been cause solely by Hawkspar overstressing the engines. And yet… "Ary?" she asked, "Were the couplings replaced on the last overhaul?"

He looked at her, shaking his head, "No. We checked them and there were no indications of these cracks… I dug out the records if you want to have a look."

She shook her head, slowly. Then asked, "How far over the limit did she say she pushed?"

"Full throttle all the way back."

Okay, she thought, so that might have done it... "Thanks," she told him, turning away and crossing the hanger towards Xen’s crew. They were sitting drinking kaffin at the side of the hanger.

Andi Sedalby frowned, pushing himself to his feet as the Flight walked across the hangar deck towards him, recognising the look on her face, knowing that it meant trouble. He glanced across at Hawkspar’s fighter, then across at Xen’s asking, "What’s up, Flight?"

"Can you check the coolant couplings on both sides for any indications of fractures. Ary just found a hairline on the other flange..."

Andi pulled a face, sitting the mug down on his chair, "On my way, Flight." Goddess, if they had to change the coolant couplings on all the X-wings… "Okay people," he ordered his crew, "move."

~ * ~

"Sir," the Home Two’s Tactical Officer warned, "Drop out point forming… point three two eight."

Notrahw nodded, turning to the Ops Officer, "Karis, advise the medical section that Omega are on their way back with possible survivors."

"Aye, Sir."

"Sir!" The strain in the tactical Officer’s voice brought Notrahw to his feet as she continued, "It’s not Omega!"

"Full Alert! All sections to battle readiness!" Notrahw ordered.

He heard the klaxon begin to whoop through the cruiser and then she was telling him, "Sir, it’s the Valiant Heart…"

"What?"

"It’s the Valiant Heart. And…" Her fingers flew across the console as she matched a second transponder code. "The Austen Marke, Sir."

Notrahw turned, "Get Maggs up here now!"

"Aye, Sir," Karis confirmed, toggling the coms switch.

A voice crackled over the speakers, "Home Two! Home Two! This is the Valiant Heart! Do you copy?"

"Valiant Heart, Home Two" Idjrea replied, "reading you loud and clear. Go ahead."

"Home Two, we were attacked at the rendezvous point. I repeat, we were attacked at the rendezvous point. Details are sketchy but when we dropped out, our fighter escort had already engaged with Imperial forces."

"Copied, Valiant, standby for docking instructions. Austen Marke, do you copy?"

Notrahw sank slowly back into the chair. Then he turned once more to the Ops Officer, "Karis, advise Doctor Soosaan. Remain at battle readiness." He looked across at the controller, "Idjrea, bring them in."

~ * ~

Kaz and Xen, had been sitting in debrief with Maggs Ronnoc, Rishard Bess and the Captain of the Coral Brekin. Now they were on their feet, automatically running for the hangar before the klaxon had begun its second warble. "Fates!" Xen hissed, as they both charged into the corridor, "What the hells is going on now?"

Kaz ran another few yards then slid to a halt, the reality of the situation suddenly reasserting itself. Reaching out she caught hold of Xen, pulling her to a stop. "Whatever it is, there’s nothing we can do."

Xen looked at her, realising that she was right. Kaz’s T-65 was still in bits and there was nothing that a single fighter could do. She glanced along the corridor towards the hangar as personnel ran past them, then back at Kaz.

Kaz looked at her. Hells, if this was an attack then Lainy and the others could arrive back right in the middle of it. Except… Xen could go after them and hopefully warn them. She started to smile, "But we can get you out. Come on!"

Xen quirked an eyebrow, opening her mouth to protest. But Kaz had already caught hold of her arm, dragging her along the corridor, towards the hangar.

~ * ~

In the medical section, Ettei Soosaan looked at the com box as if it had bitten her. "Say that again, Bridge."

"The freighters have had to return. You have incoming wounded."

"All of them?"

"Every one who went out, Doctor."

Ettei nodded slowly, not quite taking it all in. "Understood, Bridge. Soosaan out."

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. They were critically short of all sorts of medication. Unless they managed to get something soon…

The brief moment of apprehension was swept away as medical training kicked in. The future wasn’t important right now, the present was. Once the wounded were settled and made as comfortable as possible, then she could begin to worry about the lack of supplies. She took a deep breath, physically pulling herself together, shouting on the medical droids. There was a lot to be done in the few minutes they had left before the wounded started being brought in. "Threebeefive! Pull all the records on the personnel we just transferred to the Regimen Hope!"

"Yes, Doctor," the droid intoned, turning and shuffling away.

"Seetwobee, I need a full list of everything we have left in the medical store. The rest of you check all of the equipment we haven’t yet been able to…"

"They are being brought back?" Veefourdee asked.

"That’s what the man just told me." Soosaan sighed, looking round the droids, "We’re going to be busy."

~ * ~

Lainy checked the chronometer again, "Poom-Bar, your guests still doing okay?"

"They’re bearing up," Catterin told her, glancing back to check on her passengers again, "But I don’t want to push it any longer."

. "Roger that." She made the final decision to go. Staying here now, wasting their time looking for survivors who no longer existed wasn’t going to help the people in Poom-Bar’s ship. They needed medical attention. But part of her still wanted to stay – just on the off chance…

Stop it, Lainy! Get a grip! She pressed the mike switch. "All right people, that’s it. Lock in the jump co-ordinates and report ready. We jump in five."

Her Artoo unit burbled at her, dropping data onto the screen, telling her that the co-ordinates were already locked. She smiled, "Thanks, Goose." Then she scanned the area again, one final time – just on the off chance…

~ * ~

The lift doors opened and Maggs Ronnoc stepped onto the bridge, taking in the scene in one glance. Quietly she walked across to stand at Notrahw’s right hand side. "Admiral."

Notrahw looked at her then turned his attention back at the view screen, "The Valiant Heart and the Austen Marke have just dropped out of hyperspace. When they dropped out at the rendezvous point for the Regimen Hope, their X-wing escort was, apparently, already engaging enemy fighters."

Maggs looked at him aghast, looked forward at the screen, "Have the escort come back?"

Notrahw shook his head slowly, anger and frustration building up inside him. "Not yet," he told her, tersely.

Maggs took a step forward, her eyes riveted to the view screen as if it could give her all the information she desperately needed to know. Deep inside, at the core of her being she knew that the Regimen Hope was gone. She could feel it as strongly as if she had watched the ship being destroyed in front of her. But there was a little flicker of hope, a little voice in her head that told her she was being too pessimistic, that the medical frigate had jumped to safety…

"Sir! Another drop out point forming… exact the same co-ordinates as the freighters came through."

"Hold your fire!" Notrahw ordered, "It might be the X-wing escort!"

Almost on cue three X-wings shot into normal space, decelerating and turning towards the Home Two. Then Wedge Antilles’ voice filled the bridge, ""Condition Red! Condition Red! Condition Red! Home Two, this is Rogue Leader."

"Rogue Leader, Home Two, Condition Red acknowledged," the controller confirmed. "Go ahead!"

"Frigate down!" Wedge told them, "I say again, frigate down."

There was a short pause while Idjrea waited for Antilles to continue. Maggs had walked across to her. Now she placed a gentle hand on the controller’s shoulder, telling her softly, "Ask him to clarify."

Idjrea nodded once, then asked, "Rogue Leader, request clarification."

In the X-wing Wedge swallowed hard, fighting to stay in control, desperately trying to keep his voice calm. He forced himself to take two, deep breaths. "Home Two, the Regimen Hope is gone. And we’re one X-wing down."

The words punched through the bridge like a physical blow. Notrahw’s head jerked round towards his Intelligence Officer. Maggs closed her eyes, the small flicker of hope dying. The bridge officers looked at one another.

Then Wedge’s voice crackled over the speaker again, "The Hope was destroyed by enemy fire. Survivors unlikely…" There was another brief pause and when he spoke again the strength had gone, the bleak tone of his voice spurring the bridge crew back into action, "Home Two, Rogue squadron requesting docking instructions."

~ * ~

"Well, how are things progressing Apprentice?" asked the Emperor in his rasping voice. Once again, they were conversing through the medium of the holo-vid, and Martellon once again found himself kneeling before the foot-high image of his Master.

"It goes very well, Master. My plan appears to be working according to expectations, and more," replied Martellon.

"Good, good. Tell me, Apprentice, are your exercises progressing as well as your political aspirations?"

"My exercises are progressing almost as well, my Master." Not quite, but nearly.

"I sense that you have been doing well, yes. Are you hurting the Rebels?" He almost spat the last word, with a look of pure malevolence on his face that was diminished not one whit by the distance between them.

"I am hurting them beyond what they can recover from Master. I have seen several of their larger freighters destroyed, as well as at least one medical frigate. My new Zeta Flight is working quite splendidly, Master. The upgrades you sanctioned have made a huge contribution to their success." He paused a moment, gauging the mood. He decided to plunge ahead anyway.

"Master," he continued. "I must protest again at the decision to exclude me from flying with Zeta. I burn to see the destruction of the Rebels firsthand."

"No Apprentice. You must stay where you are most effective. Should a chance happening kill you, then this plan will not come to fruition, and you will not receive your just rewards."

Rewards? Now you’re talking, Martellon thought to himself.

The Emperor continued, "No Apprentice, you must bide your time, as do I. Time will tell if the fruits of my plans will ripen. Time will tell, time will tell. I require your presence here on Coruscant. I will be overseeing the Imperial Games, and so will be unable to deal with certain matters that require some consideration. You will attend me here in three days’ time." The Emperor paused, as if waiting for Martellon to protest.

Martellon, however, had known the Games were taking place, and had privately suspected such a request, but the nature of the ‘matters’ his Master alluded to piqued his curiosity. Aware the Emperor was waiting for some kind of response, Martellon bowed low in acquiescence, trying to hide his frustration at the delay in his plans.

"Good," continued Martellon’s teacher. "Then I shall await your arrival."

With that, the voice and image faded. As usual, a conversation with his Master left Martellon feeling strangely unfulfilled, as though there was so much he still did not know.

As he rose gracefully to his feet, Martellon considered his prior thoughts about luck, especially in connection with his current predicament concerning his sources of information. With the death of his active source, his information had dried up, but it was too soon to activate his new agent. His absence to attend the Imperial Games would give him the perfect cover to take Zeta off standby, and give them some leave. He never could understand the need for ‘R&R’ as his men put it, surely their duty was foremost in their minds?

It served his purposes anyway, so Martellon activated the communication console and gave orders for Flight Leader Templ to bring Zeta off active duty. He then gave orders to have his shuttle readied for his transport to Coruscant.

~ * ~

Kaz and Xen skidded to a halt inside the door of the hanger. Ground crews were rushing around, obvious readying themselves for inbound ships. The two Omega pilots looked at one another. "Lainy?" Xen asked.

Kaz checked the chronometer. "Maybe…" she ventured.

Orise Ymra rushed over to them. "Stand down, Ladies. There’s no immediate threat. Battle State has just been cancelled."

"Then what’s going on?" Kaz asked.

"Inbound X-wings," the Deck Officer told them. "Rogue Squadron."

Kaz opened her mouth, then shut it again. Rogue squadron? She looked at Xen. There were very few reason why Wedge and the rest of the squadron would be returning to the Home Two. And considering their last run in with the Empire…

Edraa’s thoughts had been running parallel to Hawkspar’s. If Antilles was coming back it meant that either they had been attacked or something had happened to one of the transport freighters. "How many inbound?" she asked Orise.

The expression on the Deck Officer’s face told them more than anything she could have said. "Only three," she confirmed.

The noise of three sets of T-65 engines prohibited any further talking. Kaz and Xen clamped hands over their ears, watching as the Rogue Squadron X-wings floated across the hanger, pirouetting under the supervision of the marshallers and then settled slowly onto the deck. The ground crews rushed in, the whine of the engines dying in a chromatic downward spiral. Then the canopies were snapping open, hissing upwards.

Kaz stepped forward, eyes riveted on the pilots as they pushed themselves to their feet, their body language confirming that something had gone drastically wrong. Their shoulders were slumped, their movements lethargic. She glanced across at Xen, seeing in her Second’s face that she had also read the situation. But neither of them were familiar enough with the Rogue fighters to recognise those who had made it.

Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that four pilots had gone out and only three had returned. Kaz closed her eyes. Please the Goddess, let it not be Wedge… Xen touched her arm and she opened her eyes, looking first at her Second and then across the hangar towards the pilots as they climbed from their fighters. The nearest pilot had removed his helmet, revealing the dark hair that she recognised immediately.

One of the others also pulled their helmet off and Kaz recognised Alissha.

For reasons they would never be able to explain, both Xen and Kaz exchanged looks that said they should leave the hangar. The Rogue pilots needed time for themselves; time to mourn the pilot who hadn’t made it; time to be alone.

"Deck," Kaz began, "if you need us we’ll be in the briefing areas."

Orise turned, looking at her. Then she nodded slowly, saying nothing, simply turning and walking towards her niche.

~ * ~

The door to the cell opened. Wolvdaater stood up but Alpelor stayed where he was, sitting on the edge of the cot. He looked at the Rebel officer as the man stepped through the door, asking, "What’s all the commotion?"

"I’m sorry, Commander Alpelor, I’m not at liberty to divulge that sort of information to you. You understand. But there’s nothing for you to worry about."

Jon harrumphed, leaning back against the wall. The officer glanced down, checking information on the datapad he held. "You were asking about Merkali Sentini and Dov Pirni."

Jon came to life again, "Yes…"

The officer looked at him, "I’m sorry, Commander, we have no details on Merkali Sentini. Dov Pirni, yes, but not from Corellia. Perhaps if you could tell me when they might have joined up…?"

Alpelor shook his head, the truth beginning to make itself more clear. Dov Pirni didn’t exist. It was a name he had made up to test them, just to see what they would do. It was Merkali he had really been interested in. The boy had been one of the squadron’s best – until he had simply disappeared one night after the destruction of Alderaan. Hard though it was for him to accept, it was becoming more and more credible that Merk was sitting in an Imperial detention cell somewhere. And that thought sat uncomfortably in his gut. The kid had never done anyone any harm.

"Of course, it’s also possible that they may not have given their real names…" the officer was continuing. "To protect family back home."

Mas watched the expressions play across his Commander’s. He didn’t know either of the men Alpelor had asked about but the news hadn’t brightened the Commander’s mood. He frowned, caught between asking Alpelor if he was okay and the possibility of embarrassing the man in front of this Rebel officer. He had served with Alpelor long enough to know that the Commander was an extremely private person. In truth, his tentative agreement to the possibility of joining the Rebel Alliance had astonished Mas, but helped get a few things sorted out in Mas’ head.

Masrya Wolvdaater had taken a vow as an Imperial Officer. And having been brought up to respect and fulfil any oath he gave, walking away from that vow was a hard thing for him to do. But he had sat here, cooling his heels and giving the whole thing a lot of thought. And, quite frankly, he had no wish to return to the Imperial Navy. He had gone to the Academy because he had wanted to fly. He had had no interest in Imperial politics – like that little twerp in his Academy class, Nylls "My father is a Captain on a Star Destroyer" Piet. And now the perfect chance to change his future had presented itself.

Surprisingly he found himself not caring that he might not be able to fly if he joined the Rebel Alliance. Even more surprising was how light hearted he felt. Somehow this felt right. Mas turned back to the officer. "So," he enquired, "how do we go about joining the Rebel Alliance?"

"And how about a change of clothes?" Jon asked, pushing himself to his feet. "We’ve been sitting around in this stuff since we arrived."

Mas turned to look at him and the two men gave each other a long, level look of understanding. Whatever their Imperial past, they were both the same now, on equal footing. They were both about to sign their own Imperial death warrants.

The officer smiled, "I’ll see what I can do – on both subjects."

~ * ~

Maggs hesitated for a moment outside of the briefing room, giving the Rogue pilots just a few more moments before she had to start bombarding them with questions. This was the part of her job that she hated the most, but it was essential that they get the details. Without it, more lives could be lost. She took a deep breath then stepped forward, the door sliding open.

Wedge Antilles looked up as she stepped into the briefing room, his face tired and pale, dark smudges standing out beneath too-bright eyes. The tears flowed silently but openly down Alissha Downhigher’s cheeks. Vaziilyi Garran’s face was blank, the grief held tightly in check behind a façade of formality.

They all needed some rest. Actually no, Maggs corrected, they all needed a large, stiff drink. She looked at them, her face solemn. "I won’t keep you any longer than necessary," she apologised softly. "But I need to know what happened."

"We dropped out of hyperspace into the debris of the Regimen Hope," Wedge told her. "A Star Destroyer was waiting just outside the debris area. The TIEs hadn’t even made it back on board. They saw us seconds before we saw them. We engaged and waited for the freighters to drop into normal space. When they did we were already warning them to turn tail and run. There was too much debris to get a lock on the TIEs. I think they had the same problem." He looked away, "There were so many of them that we should all be dead."

He paused, saying nothing more for a long moment. She waited quietly for him to continue. Finally he looked back at her, "Paco’s shields were already running low. He only took one hit…"

Maggs nodded then asked, "Do you have any idea of how soon before your arrival the Hope was destroyed?"

"It could only have been minutes," Vaziilyi told her. "Like the Commander said, the TIEs hadn’t even made it back on board the Destroyer."

Maggs ignored the sarcasm in the pilot’s voice but Wedge shot him a warning look. Vaziilyi shrugged, saying nothing, insolence still written on his face. But it was more than understandable to Maggs. She had seen it too many times already. "Was the Regimen Hope destroyed by the Star Destroyer," she clarified, gently, "or were they simply investigating the wreckage? How soon before your arrival was the Hope destroyed?"

Vaziilyi’s bravado disappeared. Wedge frowned, the idea not having occurred to him before Maggs had asked. "The readings were still hot," Alissha supplied. "The Hope could only have been taken out minutes before."

Maggs nodded again. "Thank you. That’s all I need to know for the moment." She turned away then stopped, turning back. "I’m sorry about Paco…" The three of them simply sat there, saying nothing. "Go get cleaned up," she told them. "I’ll buy the first round."