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“Sir?” Jinkcs offered, “The Star Destroyer has jumped into hyperspace…”

Rishard Bess dragged his attention from the scene in front of him, asking, “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Sir, “Jinkcs confirmed. “She’s just rounded Pryatt and jumped…”

“Running away to bring back re-enforcements,” Rishard muttered bitterly, dropping into his seat and massaging his bad knee, knowing that he couldn’t put this off any longer. Now the Destroyer had turned tail, Omega Squadron and the rest of the ships would start heading towards the Home Two. He hit his transmit switch, “Knight Leader, this is the Troubadour…”

“Troubadour,” Xen’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker, “This is Knight Leader, go ahead…”

“Xen,” Rishard began. He stumbled, suddenly, for words, unwilling to tell her over the radio that the Command Deck of the Home Two was ripped apart and lying open to space…

“The… Ummm…. The Home Two has sustained some damage…” he continued after a moment. Some damage... That was an understatement if ever there was one. Deep in his heart he knew that there was no way Admiral Notrahw or the other bridge personnel could have survived.

“I suggest the ships still in Pryatt’s atmosphere return to the surface,” he went on. “It would be better than them hanging around until we can find out the full extent of Home Two’s damage…”

“Roger that, Troubadour,” Xen acknowledged. One by one the transports and freighters also acknowledged, descending back through the atmosphere to the sand dunes around Aryad Base.

Lieutenant Catterin Poom-Bar listened to the radio messages but didn’t answer, her attention focussed on the tactical screen as the shuttle swept across the sandy, rocky surface of the desert toward the co-ordinates Lainy had given her. She frowned, half her attention on flying, the other on the readouts. Then she swore softly, pushing the throttles forward a little more.

There was a sandstorm coming in, but with any luck she’d get to Chezz before the storm did. She keyed the mike, warning, “All stations, this is the Omega SAR. There’s a sandstorm heading in from the north west… Looks like it will hit Aryad base within the next half hour.”

Sha Aegis hit the transmit switch, warning, “Knight Leader, the last place you want to be is out in the open when one of those storms hits. It stripped the outer layer off an X-wing when we first arrived. And it took us two days to dig it out. Letting the ships head back to Aryad is not a good idea…”

Since when did I get put in charge of this? Xen thought miserably. Muttering under her breath she was starting to formulate a plan when another voice cut through.

“Knight Leader, we’ve got it covered. Our tactical officer’s been watching the storm for the last ten minutes. We’ve got a safe location worked out…”

Xen smiled, “Roger that! Transmit the co-ordinates to the other ships then head to the surface.”

She waited for the acknowledgment, then continued, “Okay, Omega, gather round! Who are the pilots joining us from Aryad?”

“Lieutenant Sha Aegis…” the voice that had warned her about the storms introduced.

Kirix keyed her mike, “Lieutenant Kirixchi Kenobi, Ma’am…”

“Pilot Officer Darius Ravenclaw, Ma’am,” the third pilot introduced.

“Welcome aboard,” Xen greeted.

She did some quick thinking then finally ordered, “Lieutenant Kenobi, take my wingman. Did you copy, Treena?”

“Copied, Boss,” Treena told her, swinging her X-wing round and manoeuvring in behind the Aryad pilot’s fighter.

“Dav, pair up with Lieutenant Aegis!”

“Roger, that,” Dav confirmed, glancing across at his wife’s X-wing as he started to swing his own round.

“Pilot Officer Ravenclaw, ride wingman for Knight Seven…”

She gave up on trying to use the rest of the callsigns, “Jon, pair up with Mas as your wingman. Hobbie, take Keeve! Knight Two, you’re with me! Hobbie, you’re in charge here while Lainy and I check out the Home Two. Keep your eyes open for trouble…”

“Copied, Knight Leader,” Hobbie confirmed, then ordered, “All right, Everybody! Listen up!! Stay in your pairings and spread out…”

Only half listening to Hobbie as he allocated positions to the X-wings and formed a defence perimeter, Lainy followed Xen as she swung her X-wing round and headed back towards the Home Two. Off on the port side, the carcass of the Imperial Star Destroyer still burned, the laser fire finally having fallen silent. Lainy watched it for a long, mesmerising moment, then dragged her eyes away as Goose mewled at her. “Okay, okay,” she muttered. “Keep your hat on….”

Far below them, on the surface of Pryatt, Chezz Traykar had found a pitiful excuse for a bush and thrown the lightweight blanket from the emergency pack over it. Lying in the shade it offered, hands behind his head, he hummed quietly to himself, waiting patiently for the SAR to pick him up. His knee throbbed painfully and his back was beginning to get uncomfortable.

He had a nasty suspicion that he had wrenched it when he landed and that the adrenalin had covered the pain…

Finally he heard the sound he had been waiting for: the soft whine of engines.

Pushing himself up, he climbed unsteadily to his feet, thumbing the switch on the communicator. “Rescue One, Rescue One this is Knight Five, do you copy?”

Shielding his eyes with his hands as he searched the horizon for the sound, he waited for a reply. “Rescue One, Rescue One, this is Knight Five, do you copy?”

“Knight Five,” Poom-Bar’s voice replied, through a hiss of static, “Rescue One copies and is heading for your position… ETA thirty seconds… You should be just the other side of this rise…”

Chezz grinned, lifting his hand in acknowledgement and waving as, right on cue, the SAR’s shuttle appeared over the top of a far dune, heading toward him.

Catterin saw the downed pilot and grinned, setting the shuttle as close to him as she dared, not wanting to engulf him in the mini sandstorm the shuttle would make when it landed. She had already briefed two of her passengers and they were jumping out of the shuttle before the ramp had fully deployed, running over to Chezzie.

Chezzie saw them running for him and hobbled towards them.

“Sandstorms coming in,” one of the men warned as they reached him. “We need to move!”

Catterin watched as the two men bodily lifted Chezzie and all but ran with him back towards the shuttle. Checking the data screens again, she swore softly, seeing that the storm had picked up speed. The winds ahead of it were already picking up the blanket Chezzie had left behind, trying to rip it off the bush.

They weren’t going to get caught in the sandstorm itself, but it was going to be a bumpy ride…

Martellon walked across the floor, kneeling in obeisance in front of the shrouded form of the Emperor Palpatine. For a long moment the Emperor refused to acknowledge the boy’s presence, his attention on the view beyond the shaded windows of the Imperial Palace.

Martellon remained on the floor, not daring to move until given leave to do so.

“Your report,” Palpatine began finally, his attention still on the view from the window, “states that you were successful in your attempt to prevent the Endor plans being handed over by the traitor…”

“I was, my Master,” Martellon confirmed.

Palpatine made a small sound of approval then went on, “You appear to have omitted many of the pertinent details from your report, such as the death of the traitor who was to hand over the plans, and the capture of his Rebel contact…”

Palpatine sensed the surge of emotion that flowed from Martellon before being brought quickly back into reign. The boy’s feelings had been unclear since his return from the debacle with the Home Two; confused and contradictory: a wash of anger, desire, irritation and longing.

When he had sensed Martellon’s feelings intensify only a few days before and had then discovered that Martellon knew the captured Rebel agent, had known her before the dissolution of the Senate, Palpatine had wondered, idly, if Martellon was infatuated with the woman - especially when the boy had subsequently failed to inform him of the Rebel’s arrest and interrogation.

Now, with Martellon here before him, it was more than apparent that his pupil was hiding something…

“Master,” Martellon began, “it was an oversight…”

“One that shall now be rectified,” Palpatine interrupted.

Martellon looked up at the Emperor, assuring him, “I wished to let you know of the success of the operation as quickly as possible. I planned to interrogate the Rebel agent before giving you a more complete report… I was in the process of questioning her when you summoned me, my Master.”

That at least, Palpatine sensed, was the truth…

“How did the traitor die?” he demanded, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Martellon’s own lips.

“He was executed... He did not know the identity of the man who had provided him with the plans and was therefore of no more use to the investigation.”

Again, Palpatine sensed only the truth. Therefore, whatever the boy was hiding was most definitely associated with Hawkspar. Palpatine nodded, steepling his fingers in front of him, commanding, “And the Rebel Agent…?”

The short burst of quickly concealed emotion confirmed his suspicions. He watched Martellon closely as he announced, “The Rebel agent is Commander Kazlyn Hawkspar…”

Palpatine considered this, now aware that this Hawkspar meant a great deal to the boy. He turned, walking across the carpet, mounting the few steps to the dais and settled himself on his throne before continuing “And what have you learned from her, Fleet Commander?”

Martellon rose, walking slowly toward the Emperor as he admitted, “She has been particularly reticent despite my persuasion, Master…”

“She has been in your possession for quite some considerable time, Fleet Commander…” Palpatine interrupted, the threat hanging heavily in the air.

Martellon took a breath, forcing himself to remain calm, “I was close to breaking her when I was summoned to you, my Master.”

“Indeed…” Palpatine smirked. “Then tell me what little you know of her, Fleet Commander. Perhaps I can enlighten you about what you have, so far, failed to find out.”

Martellon swallowed, taking another deep breath before continuing, “Commander Kazlyn Hawkspar; current Commanding Officer of Omega Squadron, an X-wing squadron based aboard the Mon Calamari Cruiser Home Two; daughter of Darrik Hawkspar, chief aide to Mon Mothma…”

“You recognised her, perhaps,” Palpatine interrupted, quietly, “during your time aboard the Home Two? She was, perhaps, one of the crew in the hangar where you acquired your escape vehicle?”

Martellon’s fight for composure showed him that he had hit closer to the mark than he had anticipated. Intriguing…

“You need say nothing, Fleet Commander,” he derided as Martellon opened his mouth to speak. “Your emotion betrays you!”

Palpatine considered him for a long moment, assessing him, unable to completely see what was going on in the boy’s mind. Martellon was gifted and strong in the Dark Side of the Force, but if he was infatuated with Hawkspar then that could prove dangerous… “And she resists your efforts to loosen her tongue?” he demanded finally.

Martellon nodded, assuring him, “She will have broken by the end of the day...”

“Indeed,” Palpatine declared, smiling coldly at the boy. “And perhaps there is a way we can aid you in ensuring her cooperation…”

~*~

Wingman following close behind her, Shei pushed the power on, soaring away, taking up position along the outer security perimeter that Omega Squadron and the Aryad pilots were forming around Pryatt and the Home Two. They were stretching themselves a little thin, she knew, but Hobbie had been right: early warning was, in this case, a more correct decision than a defensive one, especially now that they had been charged with watching Lainy and Xen’s backs…

Riding just off Shei’s stern, Ahtron swallowed hard, trying to fight the urge to be sick. He was shaking so violently he could hardly fly the X-wing. It had all been so easy in the simulators, even the ones at the Academy…

It had never been like this…

It had been happening too fast. Too much had been going on. His reflexes hadn’t been fast enough. He had been too terrified to even think, following tight on Shei’s tail, taking shots at whatever he could…

He couldn’t do this… He couldn’t…

Jon Alpelor slowed up his X-wing ahead of Mas, taking up position along the perimeter. Adrenalin still surging, Jon’s mind was running fast, his senses more alert than he could ever remember them being. He wasn’t sure if it was the rush of this being his first, proper engagement of Imperial Forces as a Rebel Pilot, or if it was something that lay far deeper than that, but for the first time in his life things felt right. Any doubts that had lingered about the morality of his decision to jump ship and join the Rebel Alliance had been swept away. Grinning like an idiot, he realised, finally, that he was “home.”

On the opposite side of the out-flung perimeter, Hobbie checked his tactical screens. The Star Destroyer turning tail and running had been the last thing he had expected it to do. Of course it was possible that it was just heading out to regroup with other ships, reinforcements heading this way because one Destroyer had been destroyed.

He glanced out of the cockpit to check that Keeve was okay, his gaze lingering on the burning hull of the first Star Destroyer; then he returned his attention to the tactical screen. It was also possible that they had seen their sister ship destroyed and had chickened out… He who turns and runs away and all that…

Still, there was something about it that didn’t sit easily with him.

Lieutenant Commander Lainy Kal’Ten swallowed hard, trying to shake the sudden feeling that something had happened to Kaz Hawkspar. She’d had a brief impression of foreboding, a fleeting image of Kaz lying injured somewhere… but the more she tried to grasp hold of the feeling, the more it eluded her.

Swearing, dragging herself back to the here and now, she snapped an acknowledgement at Goose’s burblings then checked her tactical screen. She blinked, reading the data again; unable to believe what the sensors were showing her. The Home Two had taken a direct hit to her Command Deck. It was ripped apart and lying open to space…

Desperation clawing at her, Kaz Hawkspar forgotten, her fingers danced across the console as she searched for any more damage, feeling suddenly sick. Ary was still aboard the Home Two…

Please let him be okay, she prayed to whatever deity happened to be listening. Please…

In the other X-wing, Xen was also spooling through the data that the sensors were showing up. Swallowing hard, closing her eyes for a moment, wondering if the Admiral or any of the Command staff had made it off the bridge alive… Only one way to find out.

She keyed the mike, “Home Two, Home Two, this is Knight Leader. Acknowledge!”

Silence.

“Home Two, this is Knight Leader. Do you copy?”

Silence.

“Knight Leader,” Rishard Bess’ voice informed her. “We’ve tried contacting the Home Two on all channels and so far there’s been nothing.”

Fighting down the curl of panic that was beginning in the pit of her stomach, Xen replied, “Roger that, Troubadour. Stand by.”

If the main bridge was gone the cruiser would be blind and deaf until the auxiliary bridge was up and running. That would take time, especially if they were only just realising that the bridge had been hit…

“Knight Three from Knight Leader, the Home Two’s communication relay is down. Lainy and I are going in for a closer look….”

Shei nodded, acknowledging, “Copied, Knight Leader. We will shout at the first sign of any trouble….”

There was a rush of static then another voice burst through. “Knight Leader, this is Home Two, do you copy?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Xen keyed her mike, “Home Two, you’re loud and clear…”

“Roger, Knight Leader…” the voice acknowledged. “We’ve lost ship sensors to the for’ard upper decks and can’t contact the Command Deck. We’re in the auxiliary bridge…”

Xen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, telling them, “Home Two, the Command Deck has gone. Looks like it took a direct hit…”

There was a moment’s silence then the voice replied, “Copied, Knight Leader. We have emergency teams on the way there just in case. The rest of the sensors appear to be serviceable. Can you confirm that there’s no other damage to the ship’s hull?”

“Home Two, this is the Troubadour Aayirdree. We’ve done a full sensor sweep of the ship and the Command Deck appears to be the only damage…” Rishard Bess confirmed.

“Roger, Troubadour.”

“Home Two, we’ll do a full length sweep of the ship and scan for any damage,” Xen told him, seeing Lainy’s fighter peel away unprompted and head towards the far side of the cruiser. “And we have ships that need to dock with wounded and medical supplies,” she continued.

“Negative, Knight Leader,” the voice told her. “We’re losing power through the for’ard end of the ship. We need to lock down the problem and rig some repairs before we can accept anything. We might still have to evacuate personnel…”

Lainy Kal’Ten swore, closing her eyes briefly before turning her attention back to the Home Two, setting herself up for the sensor sweep of the ship. They had won the battle, but only because the Star Destroyer had turned and run. Now the full price they had had to pay for the victory was beginning to become apparent. Omega Squadron and the other ships were stuck out here while Ary and the rest of the Omega ground crews were stuck on the ship… for the moment.

~*~

Aryes Drake jumped as the loudspeaker beside him burst into life and a voice began announcing, “Attention! Attention! All personnel to Emergency Response Stations! All personnel to Emergency Response Stations!”

Behind him, the Omega Squadron grounds crews began emerging from the escape pods, most faces reflecting the same concerned curiosity he felt as his mind ticked over the situation. They had all felt the Home Two shudder under the impact of Imperial fire, but they hadn’t had to abandon the ship. That meant that the Home Two wasn’t too badly damaged.

The Emergency Response call meant that the next few hours would be long and hard ones as the uninjured crew rescued those in need of it and also tried to repair the damage to the ship. Until they were informed of the extent of that damage, however, anything else would be supposition.

Ahead of him, in the crowd of engineers, he saw Zoi and Allanya Yels disappearing toward the door, deep in conversation. Pushing his way through his colleagues, Ary put his arms round their shoulders, deftly regaining custody of the bottles of Glid wine they were carrying.

Allanya turned, pouting at him, “Hey! No fair!”
|
“What won’t be fair,” Andi Sedalby warned Ary, suddenly appearing beside Zoi, “is the Flight confiscating those because this Bantha brained son of a gartwag went back for them!” he finished, nudging Ary in the ribs.

“Good point…” Ary considered. “We’ll stow them first chance we get…”

“No need,” Andi grinned, grabbing Ary’s elbow and dragging him into an alcove. “See you later, ladies!”

Neither as tall or as strong as their male counterparts, Zoi and Alannya could only protest as the press of personnel moved them down the corridor. Ary grinned at his colleague, “I knew there was a reason I kept you around…”

Andi grinned back at him, producing a small screwdriver and starting to undo a wall plate at his hip. “I was in here looking for the circuit breakers for the escape pods,” he explained. Pulling it back just far enough to let Ary slip the wine bottles into the duct, he waited until the two bottles were snug and secure then let the plate snap back into place and screwed it back up.

Ary slapped him on the back, “Thanks, me old mate. Knew I could count on you.”

“No worries,” Andi assured him, ‘but one of them is mine!”

“Deal,” Ary assured him, offering his hand.

Andi shook on it, then the two of them took off along the corridor after their colleagues. By the time they reached the hangar, the Deck officer had already begun the briefing. The mood was sombre and Ary wondered what he had missed as he and Andi slipped in along the wall.

“So we’re alive for the moment, but still not out of the woods,” Orise was telling the assembled personnel. “We have no idea of the extent of the damage to the hull, we just know that the Command Deck has been hit and we’re losing power to all the for’ard sections, including the medical deck. Knights One and Two are doing a sensor sweep of the hull as we speak so we should know more soon.”

Relief surged through Ary and he had to swallow down the emotion that rose in his throat. Knight Two… That meant Lainy was okay…

“The good news,” Orise continued, “is that the supply ships have turned up…”

A muted cheer went up and Ymra smiled then put up her hands to quiet the murmur of conversation that had also sprung up. “However… We can’t let the ships dock until the Home Two is secure. The for’ard deck crews are trying to get to the personnel trapped on the upper levels. I’ll need volunteers to help them. I’ll also need people to help the sparkies trying to restore the power to the for’ard decks. The medical section has the priority there, even if it means rigging some sort of generator.”

Another murmur swept through the crowd. This time Orise ignored it, talking over the top of it, “Right now, I need all the X-wing Chiefs and Deck Chiefs to check their crews and report any injuries to the Flight. Once we’ve compiled an injury list I want all rescue volunteers to assemble by the main exit.”

Ary was already looking for his techs, but in the crowd it was difficult to see them.

“So,” Orise went on, “all X-wings crews assemble at their bays. Hangar crews assemble at your stations. Then we’ll go from there…”

~*~

“Ma’am?”

Soosaan turned, looking at the young officer. He walked across to her, telling her, “We’ve taken a direct hit to the Command Deck. We’re unsure of the number of injured… And we’re losing power to the forward sections, so we may have to move you…”

“Out of the question,” Soosaan told him flatly. “We have patients in here that cannot be moved.”

Bluesky appeared at Soosaan’s side, listening as the young man offered, “We may be able to rig something up, Ma’am, but we can’t promise anything…”

“How long,” Bluesky asked, “until we lose power completely?”

The young officer sighed, telling her, “We have no idea, Ma’am. It could be hours; it could be minutes. We’ve lost the forward sensors, so it’s difficult to assess the damage…”

Bluesky watched her human colleague bristle and draw herself up to argue with the young man. Humans, Bluesky knew, needed more sleep than her own species, and Ettei had been on the go long enough, and was tired enough, not to tolerate anything that might affect her patients.

Bluesky took her arm gently, attempting to defuse the growing situation, smiling at the officer, telling him, “Give us a few moments…”

He nodded, turning away slightly and Bluesky drew Ettei into one of the side corridors.

“Outrageous!” Soosaan seethed quietly. “Move half these patients and we could kill them!”

“My feelings are as yours,” Bluesky began gently, “but if the ship is damaged the choice has been taken from us. Perhaps… Perhaps we could begin an…” She paused, searching for the right word before continuing, “evacuation… Of those who are in good enough health not to be placed at risk if they are moved…”

She paused for a moment, letting Ettie take that information in before continuing, “If the power does then fail completely, we can evacuate the remaining patients. If the power remains then those who have been moved can be returned to us…”

She saw Ettei open her mouth to protest and continued softly, “If we lose life support and gravity on this deck…”

She let the rest of the sentence hang, making Ettei to think about the possibilities. The other Doctor wilted, her anger washing away as quickly as it had risen. She nodded, giving Bluesky a wan smile, “Thank you. You’re right. That sounds like a good plan…”

Squeezing Soosaan’s arm, Bluesky went back to the young officer. “There are some we may be able to evacuate,” she told him. “It will take time for us to assess the patients, but we will move those we can…”

The young man smiled, clearly relieved. “Moving who ever you can would be a big help, especially if that means cutting the power usage here,” he told her. “It might give us more time…”

“Then we shall begin now,” Bluesky assured him.

He nodded, heading back towards the door. Then he stopped, turning back, “Oh, Ma’am? I almost forgot. We’ve had some supply ships rendezvous with us. They’re carrying medical supplies. Once the Home Two is secure they’ll be able to dock…”

Doctor Ettei Soosaan fought down the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her at the news. They had been so desperately short; she had been so scared that she would lose more patients…

Except that they weren’t quite out of the woods yet. The Home Two had been damaged, more people had been injured and it might take time for the ship to be made safe for the supply ships to dock. She let Bluesky answer the young officer, not trusting her own voice. Then she turned, looking for the medical droids, her mind already working out a system for moving all those who could be moved.

~*~

It was dark.

Lieutenant Maggs Ronnoc moaned softly, coughing and turning her head as her eyes fluttered open. Through the darkness she could see small green and red lights blinking on and off in the far corner. There was a sound too, a dull, high-pitched whine…

Closing her eyes, Maggs dropped her head back onto the cool surface, trying to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t exactly sure of where she was, she realised, or what she was doing here.

She lay still, irked by the high-pitched alarm, wondering if she had been drinking with the Admiral and Kaz Hawkspar again. She dredged her memory, still unable to remember. Speculating about whether or not it was a good idea to try to get up, she waited for the hangover that she was sure was about to hit her. The seconds dragged into minutes with no headache appearing and finally she decided that it must be safe to move.

“Lights…” she ordered, bracing herself for the brightness.

It stayed dark.

“Lights!’ she ordered again, realising that her voice sounded muted and flat.

When it stubbornly remained dark, she opened her eyes again, lying still for a moment, peering across the room at the blinking lights. This, she realised suddenly, wasn’t her quarters…

This was her office… And she was lying on the floor…

“Lights!” she tried again. A dim glow flickered into existence, giving her enough illumination to see by. The office was a mess…

She pushed herself up on her arms, trying to turn round to sit up. Sharp agony stabbed through her leg and her hip and she cried out, dropping back into the floor, jaw clenched against the pain.

Jumbled images rambled through her head and she began to remember. There had been a Star Destroyer… No… Two Star Destroyers. One of them had been targeting the Home Two… Admiral Notrahw had asked her to send a message…

She’d done that then come here to send details to Major Anders on the Home One…

The shields, she realised, must have failed under the Imperial barrage. The Home Two must have taken a direct hit. The whine wasn’t an alarm, it was noise damage to her ears, obviously caused by the blast. And she was trapped under something.

She lay still for a long moment, listening, but the Imperial ship had obviously stopped firing at them. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. It meant that either they had driven off the Imperial ships, or the Star Destroyers had defeated them and the Home Two was being boarded. Either way, she had to get out of here.

Twisting round as far as she dared, not wanting to increase the now nagging throb along her leg and into her hip, she looked behind her, trying to see what was lying on top of her. The desk had toppled over onto her. And it was wedged in position by a beam that had sheared through the roof.

“Brilliant,” she muttered. “Bloody brilliant…”

Resting her head back on the floor, she tried to think. There had been a com link on her desk. If she could find that then she might be able to contact someone…

She turned carefully again, looking at the position of the desk, trying to work out where the com link might have fallen and rolled to. She searched the floor with her eyes, trying to see the link. It was a long shot. Something as small as a com link could have rolled anywhere and in this dim light she might not even see it…

Her eyes swept over a datapad. Stopping, looking back at it, Maggs smiled slowly. She might not be able to talk to anyone, but if the datapad would still work she might be able to get a written message out to someone…

Reaching beneath her, she unfastened her belt, carefully taking it off. Holding the two ends in her hand, she threw the loop of the belt out across the floor, hoping that it would be long enough to reach the pad. The belt fell to one side of it, but it was long enough to reach it.

Maggs tried again, smiling as the belt fell around the pad. Slowly, she pulled it towards her. She opened it, trying not to get too excited. It could still be broken…

The screen flickered into life. It was cracked and distorted, but it was still working. Grinning, Maggs punched in a message then methodically began to send it through to every workstation she could think of on every part of the ship.

Objective complete, Maggs rested her head back down on the deck. As long as she didn’t move, the pain wasn’t too bad. And she could still move her toes, so there wasn’t any immediate risk of her losing her leg…

On the floor at her side, the datapad warbled drunkenly at her. Heart in her mouth, Maggs lifted her head, drawing the pad over. Incoming message, it told her. The screen flickered and wavered, the writing distorted but readable.

Stay put, Lieutenant, the message read. Help is on its way. Rest and conserve your strength, it might take a little time. One Destroyer disabled and burning, the other has run away. Are you injured?

Trapped beneath beam, Maggs replied, unable to rid herself of the little smirk at the thought of a Star Destroyer running from them. Leg and hip bust but otherwise seem okay.

There was silence for a few minutes, then the pad warbled again, the message telling her, Copied, Lieutenant. Help is on its way. Force be with you.

Smiling, Maggs dropped her head onto the floor again, closing her eyes. The Home Two was damaged, but she was safe. And there were people trying to rescue her. Life, Maggs reflected as the lights flickered and went out again, wasn’t all that bad, really.

Or wouldn’t be that bad if she could rid herself of the feeling that something terrible had happened. It had been lurking in the depths of her subconscious for a few days now, a niggling feeling that all wasn’t right in her particular little part of the Universe.

She had thought, when she saw the two Imperial ships orbiting Pryatt that it had been a foreboding of the battle, but it was still there… Like an echo of grief…

Sighing, she pushed the thoughts away. She was alive, she was safe and they were trying to rescue her… and that was all that mattered.

~*~

Hobbie swore as his Artoo unit dumped data onto the screen, mewling at him in warning. Fingers of one hand dancing across the console, he keyed the mike, warning, “Incoming! Incoming!”

Shei had already plotted it and was turning her fighter, “Point four two six!”

Her wingman moaned softly, turning his own fighter clumsily, the tremor in his hands getting worse.

Kirixchi Kenobi swore and pulled her fighter round as she realised the dropout point was now behind her. Triona Elyob matched her move, fear stabbing a strange calm through her. “Damn it!” she muttered angrily. “Hasn’t there been enough angst today? Don’t they ever give up?”

Riding off Sha Aegis’ starboard wing, Dav Elyob cursed, bringing his fighter in a little closer to Aegis. If this was Imperial reinforcements, the Home Two was finished… The Squadron could provide cover for the other ships to escape, but there was nothing they could do to protect the crippled Mon Cal cruiser, or the people still aboard her.

The bounty hunter in him told him to turn and run. Surprisingly, he found himself listening to the husband and Rebel Alliance Officer in him, telling him to stay where he damned well was and watch Lieutenant Aegis’ back…

Attention on the tactical screen, Hobbie ordered, “Protect the supply ships and freighters! Give them time to jump! Knight Leader, we’ve got trouble!”

“Roger that,” Xen confirmed, “Lainy and I will cover the Home Two…”

The dropout point formed, an identification signal stabbing through ahead of the incoming ship. Hobbie grinned, relief flooding through him. “It’s the Home One! Hold your fire! It’s the Home One!”

In the bridge of the Troubadour, Rishard Bess grinned as a cheer went up from the rest of the bridge crew. He pushed himself to his feet, watching as the Mon Cal cruiser dropped into normal space and slid gracefully towards them.

A voice cracked over the speakers, “Home Two, Home Two, this is the Home One. Do you copy?”

“Home One! Home Two reads you loud and clear,” the voice confirmed. “Boy are we glad to see you…”

~*~

The door sliced open, booted feet marching down the few steps into the cell.

Desperation clawing at her, she fought the two guards as they dragged her off the floor, almost unaware of the pain from the burns that lanced through her arms and across her chest. No! Not yet! Not yet!

“Rebel Bitch!” one of the guards spat at her as she twisted out of his grip. He backhanded her across the face. Her head snapped back, lights exploded behind her eyes. Stunned, she still struggled weakly against them as they manhandled her to her feet.

From the top of the steps, Martellon watched the little scene, smiling as Hawkspar’s fear and desperation flowed toward him in waves. He embraced it, relishing the feel of this power over another human being. That it was Kazlyn Hawkspar only added to the delight.

He walked carefully down into the cell, eyes never leaving the Rebel Commander as the two officers secured her wrists in front her. Martellon walked towards her slowly. Held tightly by the two officers, she was standing under her own power, but only just.

Martellon reached out, gently touching the already discolouring skin on her cheek where the officer had hit her. She tried to flinch away, crying out softly, but the guards held her fast. Her despair washed towards him and his smile widened. Close… So very, very close… Only one more distraction to overcome and then you will be mine…

“Come now, my dear,” he purred. “Your little show of bravery did nothing but cause you more pain…”

He smiled, “I have a surprise for you… Bring her!” he ordered, turning and walking across the cell, relishing the feel of her fear and despair.

Behind him, the two guards escorted Hawkspar out of the cell, bodily dragging her up the steps into the corridor. She stumbled along between them, held upright in their grip, her jaw clenched against the pain. She knew it was useless to fight them. All she would do was waste strength that she was going to need.

They led her towards an elevator, walking through the opening doors and manoeuvring her inside. Kaz swayed slightly, almost losing her balance as the elevator began to move. The guards dragged her upright, their grip tight around her arms. Swallowing hard, knowing that Martellon was scrutinising her, she refused to lift her head to meet his gaze.

Kaz’s mind wandered, wondering where they were taking her. Were they going back to the scene of her capture? Had they discovered the identity of the ship that was supposed to have taken her and Tinnan off-world?

Another thought occurred to her and she clenched her jaw against a moan of dismay. Was her image about to be plastered across the Imperial news vids?

The possibility horrified her and she vowed that no matter how much it cost her, she would ensure that she appeared strong and dignified. She wouldn’t let her Father or the Squadron see anything less…

The elevator stopped. She watched Martellon’s smartly polished boots step out of the doors and then she was being pushed through. She kept her head down, absently noting the quality of the marble on the sun-drenched floors as she stumbled along the corridor.

They slowed briefly as a huge set of wooden doors swung silently open at their approach. The white marble changed to rich grey and red carpeting.

Another, smaller, door swung open and she was pushed through before finally being dragged to a halt. Behind her she heard the soft click of the doors closing. The grip on her arms disappeared, the two guards each taking a step backwards.

There was a rustle of cloth, then a coldly familiar voice sneered, “Welcome, Commander Hawkspar…”

Kaz gasped, eyes going wide, her head snapping up. Of all the places she had expected to be taken, this was the last…

The Emperor Palpatine stepped down from the dais, walking slowly across the floor towards her, his robes a sinister shadow trailing after him. Darkness emanated from him, wrapping tendrils around her. He gazed at her, scrutinising her, as he would have any specimen in a jar.

The weight of his attention drove her back a step and she had to lock her knees to keep from sliding to the floor. Caught in his gaze, she trembled with the effort of simply remaining upright.

So this was the Rebel female his young apprentice was obsessed with owning. This was the woman who had haunted his young apprentice’s thoughts since his escape from the Rebel ship…

Now that he had both Martellon and Hawkspar before him, the situation became blindingly clear. Martellon’s control in the presence of the woman was even less practiced than it had been before. The emotion seeped from him, telling Palpatine everything he needed to know. Hawkspar had stood in the boy’s way. She had deprived him of the person he had been infatuated with, the woman he believed he was in love with…

Palpatine smiled... The boy was jealous, not in lust: he was vengeful, not desirous.

That would only strengthen the lure of the Dark Side of the Force… It would make him stronger…

He would give Martellon some rein; allow him to be the one to break Hawkspar. The Rebel had information that would be useful; information that even she did not realise was valuable. Troop positioning and numbers were important, but information that would allow him even greater personal insight into the thought processes of Mon Mothma and her advisers was even more valuable.

And once Hawkspar had given him everything he wished to know, he would make further use of her. Her very public death would prey upon the Rebel terrorists’ sentimentality and turn it against them.

Vader had been hunting down his son, intent on turning him to the Dark Side. Skywalker was strong with the Force. His potential far outstripped Martellon’s but Martellon already walked down the Dark path. The boy’s hunger for dominance and his single-minded pursuit of the power and supremacy offered to him by the Dark Side of the Force more than balanced Skywalker’s aptitude…

Palpatine’s memories slipped back to the days before Anakin Skywalker had embraced the Dark Side. Obi Wan Kenobi’s padawan had been easily manipulated. It had required only the conveying of reassurance, the counselling of patience and serenity, and the silent encouragement of insurrection…

With Skywalker turned and Vader and Martellon by his side, quashing the irritation of the Rebel Alliance would take no more effort than it had taken to destroy the Jedi Masters and their precious Order…

First, however, there was the matter of Hawkspar. He had no memory of her, or of her father, but he had known her name since she had aided Mothma’s flight from Coruscant. His incompetent aides had arrived only minutes too late. They had paid for their mistake.

Kaz couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped her throat as the weight of his scrutiny was suddenly lifted. She staggered to stay upright, drained of strength.

The Emperor turned, settling slowly onto his throne. Turning his attention back to Hawkspar, he smiled, “Your return is not unexpected…”

“Oh,” he continued as he saw the Rebel react to his words. His voice dripped with sarcasm, mocking her, “Did you think we were unaware of the traitor in our midst? Did you think that we had no suspicion about the attempt to provide your Rebel associates with information? Did you believe we would allow such sensitive information to leave here?”

He paused, watching her fight to keep the emotion from her face, but the terror and confusion wrapped around her. Voice threateningly calm, he told her, “Mon Mothma and your father were foolish to allow you to return to us…”

Palpatine’s mood darkened as, surprisingly, he sensed the comment bringing a surge of pride and strength to the surface. A small smile tugged at the woman’s lips. “As foolish as you were to let her slip from your grasp?” she asked softly. “Or was that not as expected as my return?”

A small voice in the back of her head screamed at her that she was committing suicide. Another voice told her that she didn’t really care. She anticipated another blow from the guards or from Martellon, but it never fell. Instead the Emperor simply smiled.

It chilled her, stealing the breath from her lungs and pushing her back another step. The guards caught her, pushing her forward again, forcing her down onto her knees.

“You see, Fleet Commander?” Palpatine oozed, skilfully turning the Rebel’s strength back to despair as he continued, “The Commander can be enticed to say more than just her name, rank and service number…”