PARTIAL CAST: SILVER SABERS Lead: Commander Ortic Madiol (Mad(man)) Male Duro Two: Captain Cloyce Hajan (Ice) Male Human Three: Lieutenant Tyr Myndu (Ace) Male Human Four: Flight Officer Zveta Tavish (Shiv) Female Human Five: Lieutenant Siel Vdren (Soarer) Male Lafrarian Six: Lieutenant Wyril Cermak (Bosh) Male Human Seven: Lieutenant Novi Kazais (Diver) Male Human Eight: Flight Officer Lian Henyl (Zoomie) Female Human Nine: Lieutenant Giana Rhiescu (Dart) Female Human Ten: Lieutenant Neridon (Bonehead) Male Calamari Eleven: Lieutenant Gan Ilissk (Snapper) Male Quarren Twelve: Flight Officer Tynr Oryb (Gunny) Male Sullustan INTRUDERS Lead: Cdr. Naris Aison (Boss) Male Human Two: Cpt. Keilyn Skye (Serpent) Female Human Three: Lt. Jenne (Trey) Male Human Four: Lt. Rakid Habu (Axe) Male Iotran Five: Lt. Den Beldrin (Tops) Male Human Six: Lt. Keifr (Chopper) Male Human Seven: Lt. Srisav (Frosty) Female Sluissi Eight: F.O. Taria Veniz Female Human Nine: Lt. Paret D'ors (Shiny) Male Human Ten: F.O. Noub (Ears) Female Sullustan Eleven: Lt. Khoral Voyre Male Human Twelve: Lt. Griv Male Nikto KALIDORS (partial list out of 24 pilots and gunners) Lead: Cdr. Tyris (TC) Male Human/ Cpt. Lobazyn Male Human Two: Cpt. Evan Carik (Crow) Male Human Three: Lt. Jarai Ikela Five: Cpt. Taimi Rhiescu Female Human/ Cpt. Arik Rhiescu Male Human Six: Lt. Turlan Seven: Cpt. Kobrin (Papa) Male Human/ Lt. Orvei Male Duro Nine: Cpt. Wyl Oose Ten: Lt. Djanka Twelve: Cpt. Taree Sixteen: Lt. Sal'sk/ Lt. Zeya Twenty: Lt. Dras Nasrani Copyright disclaimer: Star Wars, its related entities and situations are the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. No real copyright infringement intended. This writing venture is, as always, non-profit. Simon's unique characters belong to Simon H. Lee (me). Thanks to: George Lucas for the universe, Stackpole for setting the standard, Morgan & Wong for the show, rec.aviation.military for the answers, and my readers for reading. ENDOR: Part One MON CALAMARI CRUISER _VORTEX_ ALLIANCE FLEET STAGING AREA SULLUST "Uh, my team's ready, but I don't have a command crew for the shuttle." "Who's that guy?" "General Solo? He helped Skywalker blow up the first Death Star." "*That's* him?" "Yes." "Hmm." Commander Madiol eclipsed Lieutenant Henyl's view of Han Solo and turned down the volume on the briefing being transmit- ted from the _Headquarters Frigate_. "And that's the story from on high. There is not a good estimate of what we'll be up against, but there will undoubtedly be a number of capital-class escorts in typical Imperial ship- yard fashion around this Death Star, and whatever ships the Em- peror likes to take along when he goes on a cruise. I for one don't buy Command's assessment that the station is 'relatively unprotected,' but that's why they're sending the whole fleet. "So, there's really not much for me to tell you... we just have to be ready to handle whatever all-around threats throw themselves at us. Rack up some sim time in the next thirty-odd hours, and we'll have our usual meeting in the mess tomorrow." "Comments?" "Will we know when the shield's down?" asked Flight Officer Oryb. "The strike team will probably be under comm silence, but I think our sensors will be able to tell us either way. It's not a small thing. Next?" "Yeah, what'll we do if the war's over?" Lieutenant Cermak asked half-jokingly. "I am not going to try answering that," Madiol answered soberly. "No doubt this will be a turning point--but I want all of you to survive to see whatever is coming up ahead. See you in the tanks...dismissed." Madiol picked up his datapad and headed for the door. "I will be back after the Fleet briefing, silly ranks version..." The remainder of the Sabers stared briefly at their com- mander's departure. "You heard the Madman," Captain Hajan put in, passing around his own pad for the others to log in for simulator time. The squadron was unusually quiet as they punched their names in, even Cermak taking on a grim expression. "Well..." Hajan murmured as he retrieved the datapad. "See you in a couple hours, Siel." The Lafrarian nodded in response, and the squadron slowly dispersed from the briefing room. Lieutenant Rhiescu held up a hand as she stood, indicating for her flight to remain a moment. Her Calamari wingman, Neri- don, and Saber Ten, Gan Ilissk, slid slightly further apart in the pause before she spoke, eliciting a slightly raised eyebrow from the diminutive officer. "I think we should put in a little extra sim time next sh- ift, more of the usual at least. Gunny, you and Gan need to work on your spacing." "No problem, sir," the Sullustan replied. "We need to work on our overall coordination too. Take a break for now." Her mouth worked for an additional second before she turned and left, closely followed by Neridon. "You too, sir," Oryb called after her. * * * MON CALAMARI CRUISER _MOON RISING_ *Lieutenant Venak Pryn, 439th Recon Squadron, KIA 10-02-25.* Captain Skye paused, stylus in left hand, scrap of dropcloth in right, over her writing as she checked the dryness of the new re- con TIE silhouette. The paint was dry to the touch, so she sprayed on a layer of fixative and started cleaning up. The neat rows of silhouettes--TIE fighters, bombers, inter- ceptors, and several other ship types arrayed below her X-wing's cockpit--caught and held Skye's attention. *That's a lot of Imperials you've shot down, Keilyn, and you could just as easily be a marker on someone's X-wing. Seems that in the end we're all pilots, and we're all very mortal.* With effort, Skye turned her back on the kill markings and leaned ag- ainst the boarding ladder, but the silhouette of Pryn's craft remained fixed in her mind's eye. *He was in my training group at the Academy. Not one of the defectors, just one of the bunch. I might have met him once or twice and not known it--and I spla- shed him three days ago without knowing it either.* Skye pounded her left fist into her right palm. *Why is this stopping you _now_, Keilyn? Killing Pryn pales next to de- stroying that liner four years ago, or even having to shoot Muida when you tried to get the unit out. *Probably just tired of all this, Keilyn. This war might get a little shorter after Endor, one way or the other, but it's not going to be over that easily. *Ex-Imperials killing Imperials. Can't say the civil war isn't turning out the way it should. SO WHY IS IT DEPRESSING YOU SO MUCH, KEILYN!?* She rammed her fist hollowly against the side of her fighter. *Can't talk to Aison about it, _brother_ on the other side or not. Never have been able to, he just refuses to think about the issue. I can't get away from it. *You've got about two days.* "Have you found the towels yet?" "No, but I did find the, uh, silly trinkets--why you insis- ted on bringing those along is beyond me, but... we *only* have five bags." As Arik and Taimi Rhiescu continued unpacking the small quantity of baggage that they had brought with them for their temporary assignment to the fleet, there was a chime at the hatch. "Enter," Arik spoke in the direction of the door. Giana smiled and stepped into the room. "Buna ziua." "Giana!" Her parents stopped what they were doing and en- folded their daughter in a hug. "It's good to see you," the younger Rhiescu declared. "There's always time," Arik replied. Giana scanned her parent's temporary quarters. "Where's Mari?" she asked tentatively. *I haven't seen my sister in such a long time.* Taimi looked at her daughter's face, now that of a young wo- man rather than the teen that Giana had been when she had left to join her A-wing squadron. *We give so much to this war--even our children, sometimes.* She cleared her throat gently. "She had to head down to Engineering--she'll be back soon." Giana nodded. *My sister, the techie. Well, what's a few minutes on top of a few years?* Despite the fact that the Rhiescus and their squadron had been on the run for years, they had fulfilled their eldest daugh- ter's desire for a university education, though it had required fabricating an alternate identity for Maricica and not being in contact with her for the past six years. And now she was back, trained by the Empire so she could help the Alliance... *Will she be the same person I remembered?* Giana wondered. It occurred to her that she had not had much contact with her parents lately either. "Is she...um..." "A little older, maybe, but just the same," Arik reassured her, patting Giana's head as the hug broke up. "So...how have you been doing?" asked Taimi. "Uh..." "Captain?" "Yes sir." Skye carefully set aside the control leads of her ejection seat and turned to face Commander Aison. The Intruders' CO looked up at his executive officer. "I wanted to get your read on how the others look--I'm planning some sim runs." Skye momentarily bit down on her lower lip while she consid- ered Aison's question. "I don't see too many problems...though I still don't know that much about the greenies." "Well, that's what the simulators are for, aren't they?" Aison nodded. "Thanks." Skye glanced at her maintenance work, then returned her at- tention to Aison, who was fidgeting. "Anything else, sir?" Aison folded his hands together and stared somewhere beyond Skye for a moment. "Everyone is asking 'what will you do... later?' around here. Can't blame them, this is the biggest thing the Rebellion's ever done. But for me... I think, no matter what, that I'm ready to pack it in, retire to Training Command... or just find some place to settle down. So...I'm planning to re- sign from the squadron after we get through with this--and I've recommended you to take over." Skye's eyes widened in surprise. "Sir..." *He's only a few years older than I am--but we don't get much of a chance to get old in this job anyway. *Command? For me?* "Sir, I... I don't feel that *ready *. Fact, I don't feel that clear about all this myself." Aison reached up and rubbed the taller officer's shoulders. "I didn't either, when I got this job. I'm not sure I've ever sorted everything out. But what seems to matter more is that when we're in the furball you're clearer and sharper than anyone else I've seen. You've made the right choices, and saved our lives quite a few times." *And ended quite a few others.* "Uh...thank you, sir." Aison gave Skye a wry grin. "You'll be fine, Captain. One way or another, I'm getting out of this right here, but I'm leav- ing the unit in good hands." "I'll do my best, sir." * * * "How did you get out of that?" "I told him, calmly, that I was a Rebel agent." "You WHAT?" "Well, he didn't believe me." The Rhiescus, all four of them, sat in the _Moon Rising's_ galley around a meal of stewed vegetables and chiftele, a few cuts above regular Rebel fare. *Last meal?* Giana had thought. But it was all very much like home, an ambience none of the Rhiescus had experienced for a very long time. "There's reverse psychology for you," Taimi declared, smi- ling at Maricica. "Where did you get this meat?" asked Giana. Now the parents shared a smile. "Traded a couple of PD-4s to the 331st for it...seemed like a good deal. I don't know where they got it from, though," Arik explained. "It's good," said Maricica. Giana nodded her assent while struggling to down the forkful of food that she had just brought to her mouth, triggering laugh- ter from the others. Maricica rubbed her younger sibling's head. "Remember what Mother and Father said about talking with your mouth--" There was a short, insistent beeping. She groaned and reached for her comlink. "Rhiescu." "Sorry to bother you...please report to Engineering, um, im- mediately," requested the voice on the other end of the channel. "Can't it wait?" "Chief says now." Maricica nodded. "Okay, I'm coming." She replaced the com- link at her belt and turned to her family. "Sorry about this." There was a microsecond's knowing glance between the elder Rhiescus. "We can walk you down," suggested Taimi. Maricica shook her head. "Don't let the food get cold-- I know how long it's been. I'll see you later." She grasped her mother's hand for a moment, then turned and left. Giana watched her sister leave, then stared at her fork for the next few seconds' uneasy silence. "Um..." "We'll see her later," Arik mumbled absentmindedly in Gi- ana's direction, his gaze on Maricica's empty seat. Giana looked up. "I had something else I wanted to ask you about..." "What is it?" Taimi asked, nudging her plate a few milli- meters away. "I..." Giana folded her hands on the table. "Two weeks ago there was supposed to be a major Alliance strike..." She trailed off, partly to remind herself of numerous briefings on operation- al security, but also as another opportunity to steel herself for what she wanted to say. "On Ulfizi," Arik confirmed. "We'd heard rumors." "Yes...well, I was thinking then... I was thinking that I would almost certainly die--that nothing I could do would help me survive against those odds. And now--" "You're still worried," finished Taimi. Giana moved closer to her parents, but her eyes wandered away. "I don't know how you deal with it." Arik's expression softened. "We don't, I think. Giana, ev- ery pilot, every warrior has, at some time, felt that death is inevitable. But the ones who *do* survive don't let the thought hold them back. Death... death can just happen, when no one's expecting it, but you can't let it distract you from your duty. Later, after we've returned, we can think about how close we've come, and we deal with it then." Giana nodded. "Can I deal with it now, a little?" Her parents accepted her questing hands with their own and the family let the galley, the ship, the war, the universe go for a moment, to share in one moment of togetherness. Hajan strode through the hangar bay at a brisk pace, match- ing his step to the flashes of welding torches and caution lights that strobed across the interior of the cavernous space. "Ice!" Hajan spotted Vdren sitting atop the cockpit of his A-wing, apparently working on the jammer pod with the assistance of the squadron's chief tech, Dorne. As Hajan drew alongside the fighter, Dorne took a discarded component in his calloused hands and walked off. "I hope he can find a spare," Vdren griped, pointing toward the short boarding ladder alongside his ship. Hajan hopped up in two steps. "Yeah, it's getting a little busy around here--but look on the bright side: we could be flying B-wings and have no fun *or* parts." Vdren shrugged, knowing that the A-wing's maintenance-to- readiness ratio was not much higher than that of the much more com- plex B-wing--and that deficiency occurred despite the fact that A- wing's design and parts were much simpler and readily available. "Maybe we should have stayed in X-wings." "Hmm. Now you sound like Ortic after an eight-hour sortie and five Timbiqui Darks." Vdren birdlike head nodded up and down. "I could use a beer right now." "Yeah, and I could use a week's leave on Pantolomin. But at least you have a day to work on that situation." "Hours. Remember that the bottle-to-throttle rule is a lit- tle longer for my kind." "Ensla." "Just because he always flew like he was tanked doesn't mean that he was." "Just an example." They paused a moment to remember Baridn "Ethyl" Ensla. "So how's your greenie?" Hajan inquired. Vdren made a passing gesture towards Henyl's ship, which was parked next to his. "Not bad. Still calls me, and for that mat- ter just about everyone else in the flight, 'sir,' even in the sim tank, but not bad in the chair. Give her a few more months' flight time and she'll be up there with Dart." "And me," Hajan added. "And Madman," retorted Vdren. "Talking about me, sirs?" called a voice from behind them. A swirl of copper hair briefly popped into sight next to the A- wing's cannon mount, then Henyl hauled herself up onto the fi- ghter's side. "Nicely, I hope." She smiled at them and folded her legs beneath her. "Yes..." murmured Hajan, who was lost somewhere in Henyl's broad smile. Vdren poked the human in the side. "He was just commenting on, um, how good a pilot you are." Henyl nodded to Hajan. "Thank you, Captain." Hajan managed to nod. "You're welcome." "So what brings you out here?" Vdren asked. "I thought most of the others were singing ditties or something." "Oh, they are," Henyl confirmed. "That's why I left. I thought a stroll would be nice after dinner." She dipped her head in Hajan's direction. "I didn't see you in the mess, sir." "Um, I was reviewing the simulator results from the run we did earlier." "I thought we were good." "'Train as you fight and fight as you train,'" Hajan quoted. "We should be okay out there...but there's a lot to worry about." Henyl lightly brushed his hand. "And you can't plan for everything." "Right on that." Dorne returned. "There is a spare," he announced. "If I have a chance, I'll have to warn everyone *not* to fool around with their jammer settings since there aren't any parts left." He passed the shiny, anti-static-wrapped device up to Vdren. "Time to finish the job, Siel." "Now or never...or tomorrow. All right." "We'll get out of your way," Henyl said. She locked eyes with Hajan. "Would you like to finish my walk with me, sir?" "Er..." * * * Skye writhed and sat up several inches from her cot. *It never changes,* she thought. *Always the same ending. I shoot.* Wearily the captain drew herself to a fully-seated position. Her R2 droid, "Tootie," rolled over beside her, chirping a short interrogative. "I'm fine," she told it. *Of course, most people would won- der why you're sleeping under your X-wing in the hangar bay with all this noise around you.* "Captain?" *There's one now.* "Good morning, sir." *Morning...damn.* "Same to you, Mister Noub." Skye worked her neck around to get out the kinks. "Did you get to go planet- side?" The Sullustan pilot smiled. "Yes I did, sir." "That's good." Skye stood and rubbed Tootie's domed silver head. "I was wondering, sir, whether you'd had a chance to see your family lately." Noub shuffled her feet. Skye examined the leading edge of one s-foil. "No, not for a long time. Probably won't be for a long time either." Noub caught the edge in the Captain's tone. "I hope it's soon, sir." Skye nodded. "Yeah." Rhiescu tossed down her headset and stormed out of the simu- lator pod. *Why do I have to be in command? What the hell were they doing?* The answers clicked into place as she stepped in front of the other simulator pods. *The Quarren and Calamari don't get along perfectly, even less so since they blame each other for the Imperial occupation. *Of course, reminding them about that isn't going to help...* Ilissk stood to her left, Neridon to her right, with Oryb forming an unfortunate buffer in the middle. Rhiescu folded her arms across her chest and remembered the dozens of times she had been described as unemotional. *If there's a time to externalize, now would be it.* "Please, could you tell me if I've done something wrong? Am I too quiet for you? Maybe you didn't hear my orders, and that's why I didn't get any support out there--I'll make sure to speak louder next time." "Uh...nothing of the sort, sir," sputtered Oryb, sneaking a glance at Ilissk. "That's good. So I'm sure you can hear this: out there, when we fly against the Imperials, we're a team. We have to stick to- gether and help each other out--or we will all die. What happens out there has nothing--" *well, actually, it does have a lot--* "to do with what you do when you are not in your cockpit. The past has become dust and memory--but the present is this unit. If you truly believe that the situation between you is extreme enough to affect how we will function as a unit in combat, if what you have seen suggests that there is a real problem with any- one's flying, tell me now. But make sure you know what you will be talking about, because we don't have time for it otherwise. The Imperials are *our* problem." She squared her shoulders, met everyone's stare. "Is there a problem?" Neridon and Ilissk regarded each other for a second... then two, then five, then ten. Finally, Rhiescu's wingman spoke. "Let's try that run again, sir." "Excuse me..." Kobrin got up from the table and accepted a datapad from the yeoman at the hatch. The other six Kalidors present continued their dissection of the simulator run they had just completed. They didn't get far, as Kobrin whooped and ran back to them a moment later with a huge smile. "What is it?" Arik asked, arching an eyebrow at the older pilot. "I--I've got grandchildren!" "Whoo..." Taimi breathed. "Twins! Two girls! They were born about a week ago but I don't know their names yet, the message just got here, here's a holo--" The squadron's oldest pilot joyously passed around the datapad, still beaming and hopping up and down. Sal'sk got up and hugged him in congratulations, and to slow him down a bit. "Awwww..." After the picture had made its rounds, Kobrin clasped it to his chest and, eyes toward the ceiling, whispered a prayer. "Congratulations again, Kobe." Captain Carik nodded som- berly. "Mai'an would be proud." Taimi held Arik's hand. Kobrin's wife had been dead for the past five years, leaving the fifty-six-year-old pilot alone and far from the rest of his family. *We're getting there too,* they both thought. "I'll take that as a sign of good luck," commented Oose. "Yeah... I'll buy a round later," Carik declared. "But more importantly, let's make sure we live long enough to have any more grandchildren." He gestured toward the flight data. Soberly, the Kalidors returned to their preparations. * * * Rhiescu entered the galley and spotted Hajan sitting at a table on the other side. The captain was staring into space, ignoring his lunch. Well, not necessarily staring into space...across the room from Hajan, a female officer was talking to the cook, her back to Hajan. While Hajan wasn't staring at anything that might have of- fended Rhiescu's delicate sensibilities, his enraptured expres- sion was enough to attract the lieutenant's interest. Rhiescu stepped in front of him, eclipsing his view. "Cap- tain, I, um, I heard that you were supposed to be, how should I put it, 'flying recce' over Henyl?" Hajan cocked his head to peer around Rhiescu's body. "I never know what's going to show up on my scopes," he answered. Rhiescu gracefully tipped back the chair opposite Hajan and dropped herself into it, resting her elbows on the table and lac- ing her hands together. She placed her chin atop her knuckles, supporting her head lightly. "Hmm. Dating... what a concept." "It's overrated." Hajan picked at his meal. "Oh." She frowned. "Why?" "Everything you gain, you can lose. Some things hurt more to lose than others..." "So you're watching and looking and hoping to...?" Rhiescu knew what she hoped he wouldn't say. "Things that might have been but won't." "And Henyl?" Hajan's head came up sharply. "Nothing different there than any other time." "Would you prefer it to be different?" "I think I liked you better when I thought you were stonier and kept your mouth shut." Anger flickered in Rhiescu's eyes. "It's your life, sir. Don't blame me if you don't want to let anyone into it." She got up and walked away. Hajan sighed. *I don't want to be in here. *If any proof is needed to remind anyone that the _Moon Ri- sing_ was once a cruise ship, it's this galley--it's still got floor-to-ceiling transparisteel (with nice shutters of ten- centimeter plate now), pretty tacky decor (who did the Cals sell this beast to the first time?), and an audio system that still plays annoying mood music between intercom messages. But that's not the problem, purple seats or not.* Skye listened without interest as Keifr and Jenne argued. "If we're gonna have any legitimacy with the populace, we *can't* just blow the Emperor to bits with the Death Star--some- one's got to arrest him, bring him to trial for what he's done." Keifr's drink sloshed in his hand as he held it a meter behind his head, which was, as usual, leaning into his conversational victim's. *Bite his nose, Jenne.* "And where're you planning t'find an impartial court?" Jen- ne riposted after a moment. Keifr sipped his drink while waving it in the air. "The Alliance could do it." "Sure, man. Then we'll look just like the Empire when it set itself up--sweep out the old crew, try 'em, and shoot 'em." "I didn't say anything about shooting--" Skye picked up her mug of Obsidian Stout and walked to the windows, which currently faced the pearlescent orb of Sullust, eclipsed behind the left echelon of the fleet. *I don't want to hear the chatter, and I don't want to spend what might be the last few hours of my life arguing about whether we're doing the slave labor that's probably building that Death Star any favors by blowing the thing up around their ears. I don't want to be distracted--but the urge to join the group re- mains--as a human, the desire to group up and spill my thoughts before certain death is probably irresistible. *I'm fighting.* A short time later Skye found herself in the simulator bay, looking through a long list of possible scenarios. "Captain?" Skye took a moment to identify the voice behind her. *Ven- iz, the new kid in Eight.* "Yes?" "If I'm not interrupting anything... could you give me some with the mission I'm trying to run?" Skye put down her datapad. "Sure." "Yes, but I have the whole ship between me and space--not just one pane of glass." "Which is a good reason for me to stay fully aware and in control of the situation." "Well..." Maricica stopped walking and grinned. "We're tal- king too much about work." Giana glanced down, then met her sister's gaze. "You're right about that," she conceded. "But, honestly, I feel... it seems weird sometimes, talking to you, Mother or Father. We've been apart too long, I think." "Yeah. But we still have one thing... when we're together, I don't even feel like talking sometimes. It still feels like we're a family, and that doesn't need explanation." "I know. I wish that we had more time for it." * * * Chatter in the _Vortex's_ galley died down as Madiol tapped a fork against his glass to get everyone's attention. "Okay! Hang on to your dinners, because we're at T-minus twelve hours and it only goes downhill from here on out. "Everyone's sim runs looked good. I know that some of you are new, but I definitely see real cohesion. Remember that, be- cause it's easy to get cut out and killed if you're not situa- tionally aware. "On the other hand, there's some work to be done on how we approach capital ships. Sure, we're fast enough to not have to worry about their guns--too much--but you've probably noticed that we don't pack enough firepower to do a lot of damage to the sys- tems that you've all been going after. So, unless the strike is called for, I'd recommend sticking to counter-battery work and picking off smaller areas rather than trying to sink the things by yourselves. Leave that to the big boys." "I suggest staying within the recommended attack envelope-- the seeker heads are built for ruggedness over sensitivity, and poof! there goes your lock." "Damn, and I thought I had a new idea. Now I know I'm get- ting old." "It's okay, Grandpa," joked Orvei, Kobrin's gunner. Tyris leaned against his new B-wing/E's cockpit pod and sur- veyed his pilots, from Kobrin's worn but enthusiastic face, to the seasoned middle age of the Rhiescus, to the new faces of Tur- lan and Ikela. "We've been together a long time. It's been an honor flying with all of you--and I do not doubt that in the end, we will win this battle, and the war. But, for the birth of Kob- rin's new granddaughters, and all of our other children, let's remember that we're not just fighting to win this war for our- selves, or our cause, but for our families, children and the fu- ture. Dismissed." Hajan finally left the mess hall, only to discover Rhiescu waiting for him. "Sir, I'm sorry," she declared immediately. "I didn't mean to push you so hard." Hajan opened his mouth, then reconsidered what he wanted to say. "Apology accepted. I... I don't want to talk about that too much, still, but I shouldn't have snapped like that." Rhiescu bowed her head. "So..." "I'm going back to my quarters," Hajan told her. "But I'll make sure to share the table with you for breakfast." "Sounds good, sir. See you then." *And now I've got to see some other people...* Rhiescu was running the launch through its short preflight checklist when the hatch chimed. *Who could that be?* She safed three controls and moved aft to identify the visitor. Commander Madiol stood outside. "Hello, Lieutenant. Head- ing to the _Moon Rising_?" "Er... yes, sir." "Good. I'm coming along." Rhiescu swept an arm around the passenger cabin. "Sit any- where, sir." With Madiol aboard, Rhiescu finished the checklist, got lift clearance, and jetted out of the _Vortex's_ hangar. "Going to see your family?" Madiol asked. "Why... yes sir. If I may ask, how did you--" "I've known Tyris for a long time, since the Academy--the Republic's Academy. We used to give each other things before our missions--luck, if you believe in that. In this case, it even predates the sabacc game I have with Hajan and Vdren." "Sounds fine with me, sir." "Don't stay out too late, Lieutenant--going out early tomor- row." "I've got a lot of parents, Commander." Rhiescu smiled. "As promised." Tyris waved Madiol into his quarters. The Duro felt at home in the carefully minimalistic quarters, a set of datacards and a few holos the only subtle indications that Tyris was a pilot and warrior. "Haven't had the chance to do this in a while," Tyris noted. "It's a big galaxy. Speaking of which, here's what I br- ought." Madiol handed Tyris a datacard set. "'Great Battles of'--where is this?" "Pretty out of the way region, way back when the Republic was new. Internal conflict, which is why no one has ever heard of it, but interesting nonetheless." "Thank you." Tyris looked at the set again. "Might get through a few of these while we jump." "It's a long read." Tyris nodded. "And for you..." Madiol took the datacard. "Btelv's Triad. I've heard of Btelv, but never heard this." "It was originally commissioned for the occasion of Palpy's declaration of Empire, but...the tune changed, so to speak. That cost him some popularity in certain environs. I think Btelv is still in prison somewhere, so that's it for him..." "For now. We'll have to see about that. Thanks, Ty." "No problem. Good luck out there--maybe we'll run into each other." "Catch a couple of eyeballs in between. I'll dedicate one to you--clear skies, Commander." * * * The hangar was quiet. Scant hours remained before the at- tack, but the major repairs and preparations had been completed, giving the overworked engineers and techs time to rest before the work would begin again, with considerably higher risks. Skye slowly walked around her X-wing, fingertips trailing across its light-gray skin, feeling every scar and remembering the battles that accompanied them. There was one untouched section, a long strip of the fuse- lage under the cockpit and her kill markers. *Wonder if the sil- houettes will be there before something hits that--and how many more battles it will take.* She thought aboug Aison's pending retirement. *And who will be with me.* * * * 0455 GST Rhiescu sat up sharply in her bunk, nearly catching her head on the low ceiling above her. *It's time already?* Yawning, she blinked at her surroundings in the dimly-lit temporary quarters and stared joylessly at the glowing red digits of the clock on the wall. *Argh.* Swinging her legs over the side, she dropped a meter and a half to the floor, falling past Henyl and Tavish and landing lightly on the balls of her bare feet. *Stupid of you,* she told herself. *Don't get hurt now.* She pulled some essentials from the locker at the head of the triple bunk and padded off. 0522 GST "Sleep well?" Hajan asked, grabbing steak--it looked like nerf--and eggs to go with his selection of orange-colored mystery drink. "Rested and ready," Rhiescu confirmed. She inspected his choice of breakfast. "That's 'low maintenance'?" "It's fine for me. What are you having?" "Bread, milk, fruit if I can find any..." "Good luck." 0545 GST Arik had done it so many times that the process had been elevated to the status of ritual. Stripping out of his fatigues, he sat down on the locker room bench and pulled out a thin khaki garment. He put on the legs of the garment first, adjusted the straps at his waist, and then shrugged on the rest of the suit, zipping it up in front and pulling out the leads. The underlayer would keep him cool and also provided waste collection, should it be required. Next came his well-worn green flight suit. He checked the seals at neck, wrists, and lower leg, then released them, and ran a little air into the g-force bladders. Reaching further into the locker, he took out a ribbed white vest with a square box on the front, his life-support unit. The vest buckled on over his flight suit, and he threaded the loose control leads accumulating at his waist through loops in the unit. Bending over, Arik retrieved his boots, and felt the slight aches of age in his back as he did so. Ignoring the feeling, he stepped into the heavy black boots and secured the leg seals of his flight suit. Plugging into a small bench in the center of the locker room, Arik tested the life-support unit and got a reassuringly green board. Taimi then handed him his helmet. "Ready?" "Let's go." 0550 GST "Try it now!" Kazais thumbed the controls that swiveled the A-wing's laser cannons and watched nothing happen. Dorne's lips puckered as he checked the data flowing across his diagnostic terminal. "Oh. There it is." He plunged his hands back into the depths of the starboard cannon mounting, and after a minute of silently fiddling, nodded to Kazais. This time, the guns rotated smoothly. "Sure it'll last?" Kazais demanded. "Should be fine," Dorne assured him. 0555 GST Skye walked down the line of parked X-wings, nodding to the other Intruders and exchanging greetings, a smile fixed to her face. She performed a quick walkaround inspection of her X-wing, where techs were lowering Tootie into the astromech droid socket. "Ready?" Aison called. "As I'll ever be." 0556 GST As a unit, the Kalidors walked up to their fighters as other last-minute checks were run throughout the hangar. Im- mediately behind them, a holocam issued its characteristic hiss- click as it recorded the members of the 253rd Bomber Squadron for whatever posterity they were leaving behind. Taimi started her walkaround while Arik watched Mohb, the Kalidors' huge Herglic weapons tech, free a two-meter-long, squat KAB-750 anti-ship bomb from its loading cradle, then connect it to the big yellow hydraulic lift sitting beneath the Y-wing's en- gine pylon. "Got a handle on that?" Mohb smiled, revealing a frightening set of conical teeth. "Last thing." He nudged the bomb firmly against the carrier with a heave of his massive shoulders. The device began elevating the heavy ordnance up under the pylon, where a moment later the auto- matic latches caught it and secured it into place. After the machinery had swung clear, Arik took a peek at the bomb's underside. "HERE'S A GIFT" was scrawled on it in silver grease pencil. "It'll fly," the gunner quipped. Tyris settled into the gunner's cockpit of his B-wing. The Kalidors had obtained four of the rare modified B-wings to sup- plement their firepower. As the ships retained the pilot/gunner dual seating of the old Y-wings, the crews were relatively at home, and could inflict phenomenal damage in the heavy assault fighters. His ship had been further modified, as Lobayzn perfor- med much of the fire control duties in addition to flying, leaving Tyris free in the rear seat to direct operations from a command console that had been installed over the gunner's boards. He also had a sophisticated and hideously expensive suite of target designation equipment at his disposal. "Hope it all works." 0605 GST Skye sat in her cockpit and waited for the go signal, count- ing down the time left on her fingers, endlessly clenching and unclenching her hands. The hard-edged ejection seat felt oddly comfortable for once. The hangar bay doors began to slide open. Doubts vanished from Skye's mind as black, star-studded space became visible be- yond. *There is one thing I do know. This cockpit is where I belong.* Fighters roared from the launch bays of dozens of ships, arraying themselves in the formations they would strike in once they exited hyperspace, darting around and ahead of the bulky forms of the Rebel capital ships. Giana flexed her fingers and turned in her cockpit to eye- ball the rest of her flight. Ilissk saluted her from his cockpit and Neridon waggled his ship left and right, while Oryb flashed his formation lights. "We're good to go," she told Madiol. An announcement flooded Tac One. "Admiral, we're in position. All fighters accounted for." Admiral Ackbar swiveled in his command chair. "Proceed with the countdown. All groups assume attack coordinates." Space sparkled with the flare of thousands of thrusters. "All craft: Prepare to jump into hyperspace on my mark." Hands dropped onto hyperdrive levers and computers synchron- ized as the fleet took a collective breath-- And shot away into the void of hyperspace. The Battle of Endor had begun. ENDOR: Part Two Roiling hyperspace spun itself into the black, star-studded void of realspace. A partially-shadowed green world took posi- tion in the center of thousands of viewports, screens, and cano- pies. In front of that planet was the Death Star. "That thing is *big*," Kazais commented to no one in par- ticular. "Check in," Madiol ordered as the Rebel fighter squadrons flew beyond of the protective bulk of their cruisers. "And *don't* run into anybody if you can avoid it." The entire comm net lit up as pilots checked in with their squadron leaders. After a few moments, General Calrissian's voice cut across the chatter. "All wings report in." "Red Leader standing by." Skye frowned at the sensor readouts. *That's funny--no ships in sight. Is this construction by telepathy?* "Gray Leader standing by." Taimi looked around at the fleet, wondering if she could spot her daughter's fighter in the swarm of ships. "Green Leader standing by." "Lock S-foils in attack positions." Madiol did a roll as the X- and B-wings around him went to battle readiness. "Showoff," Hajan joked without hitting the transmit switch. "Check your servos," he told the Sabers. The squadron quickly checked the operational status of their cannon swivel mounts, testing their operation one more time before it really counted. Admiral Ackbar's voice filled the main comm frequency. "May the Force be with us." The Rebel fighters continued their charge toward the Death Star. Surface details began to appear, huge trenches and struc- tures the size of cities. Traffic on the comm channels intensi- fied once again. It was one detail that Skye couldn't make out that was puz- zling her. Her finger stabbed at the Transmit switch, but as it turned out, she did not need to say anything. "Break off the attack! The shield is still up!" *Oh no.* Aison checked his sensors as General Antilles echoed his sentiments. "I get no reading. Are you sure?" "Pull up! All craft pull up!" Skye observed the disk-shaped freighter veer off to port and instinctively followed it, nearly clipping Seven in the pro- cess. As she craned her head to look back, a searing flash made her snap her eyes shut. Without even a scream on the comm net, Intruders Nine, Ten, and Eleven plowed into the invisible but very solid deflector shield. Other Rebels didn't go as quietly, however, skipping across the shield surface until their fighters were torn apart. Madiol turned away from the dozen wrecks he finally counted. When he opened a link to the squadron, his voice was hard. "This is it, everyone." The sensor system started screaming a moment later. It was not hard to determine why. The Rebel fleet was no longer alone. "Star Destroyers coming over planetary horizon!" Tyris cal- led. He added to the chorus of panicked voices: "It's a trap!" A flood of contacts, stretched like the tentacles of some huge sea creature, swamped the fighters' sensor screens. The huge gray wedges of Star Destroyers were visible first, followed by smaller capital ships, and finally the enormous, diffuse cloud of TIE fighters. Skye winced. Millennia of naval doctrine typically arranged fleets in layers of increasing tonnage, with fighters and light pickets at the edges, heavier escorts further inward, and primary capital ships in the center. In this case, the "pickets" were full-size Imperial-II class SDs, the centerpiece was at least one Super Star Destroyer, and the remaining light cruisers, Interdic- tors, and fighter carriers the Imperials had were buried so deep- ly in the metal wave that they were tiny specks. *Forget the ships, watch those fighters!* "Stick with your wingman," Madiol, Tyris, and Aison ordered simultaneously, and unnecessarily. "Mark your targets, and be ready to regroup after the first pass," Skye added as the fighter hordes roared toward each other. Alarms began eeping as the Rebel fighters felt the deadly touch of the TIEs' active sensors. Vdren studied a blue-lit dis- play above his throttles and finally punched two of the buttons under it, starting a high-pitched whine which was audible even over the shrieking of the massive Novaldex engines behind him. "Engage ECM systems." With the A-wings now pouring out megawatts of interference, Skye left her targeting system alone and boresighted the first two--three--two dozen TIEs rushing toward her ship. "Fighters coming in!" An ear-splitting "Yee-haa!" reverberated across the comm frequencies. And suddenly, the space between opposing fighter fleets was linked by a bright, flashing curtain of energy. Shots bursting around her, Skye set her quad lasers on single fire and walked a line of shots across the nearest TIEs. In a moment they were be- hind her; she banked hard and started pursuit, mirrored on both sides by X- and A-wings. Madiol adjusted his forward shield and quickly swept the sky to check the positioning of his squadron. "Regroup! Lots to shoot, but stay together!" "Detecting TIE bomber groups in third wave," reported a con- troller into his left ear. "Gray Group Y-wings reporting many TIEs on intercept, re- questing assistance," issued from his right earpiece. "There's too many of them!" someone shouted. "No kidding," Saber Leader muttered sourly. "Green Group units, fall back to escort heavy fighters," came another order from higher up the command chain. "Let's go," Madiol commanded. "Eyeball time." Calrissian: "Accelerate to attack speed! Draw their fire away from the cruisers." Battle was joined. Arik spun the ion cannon around and pumped a double burst of azure-cyan energy into the eyeball that was nearest. Wrapped in coils of blue light, the ship rolled away, sparking beautifully as it tumbled into Endor's gravity well. The old gunner didn't linger over his work, twisting the gun controls to pop another shot into another TIE. *And boy, there are a lot of them.* Arik particularly hated the rear-facing view he had from the Y-wing's cockpit in these situations, with green bolts passing no further than an arm-span from his head. "Goin' down!" Taimi called from the front. Arik fought to hold the grips steady and fire as his wife dove the ship and sent his stomach toward his brain. That wasn't that much fun either. He still hit the third TIE, though. With the Rebel assault blunted under the horde of TIEs, the Alliance heavy fighters--the Y- and B-wings--were pulling back to the protective umbrella of the cruisers' batteries, pursued by the ubiquitous eyeballs which would be murder on the slower ships. Still-- "Get us targets," Tyris was growling into the comm channel. "We're not going to be wasting our AS ordnance on TIEs." "The enemy is superior," replied a harried controller. "Command orders defensive deployment until fighter threat suffi- ciently diminished to allow offensive strikes." Taimi fried a TIE with a parallel pulse from the forward la- sers, then stamped on the rudder pedals to help Three catch an- other in a crossfire. "Diminish two," she piped cheerily into the comm channel. "I need some help down here!" shouted Nasrani. A second group of TIEs was closing on them from below. Nas- rani and his wingman had rolled to get their ion cannons a bead on them, but there were too many-- "I'm hit!" Fire trailed from his port engine nacelle. "Get clear!" Tyris ordered as Lobazyn looped the B-wing. "Yahhh!" The crippled Y-wing's engine exploded, taking the nearest TIE with it. "Damn!" "Cross and break!" The Kalidors swung around, exchanging position and direction and taking the TIEs head-on. Closing sp- eed was so high that each side would only have one shot. Taimi squinted into the emerald streaks of destruction as cannonfire slapped against her fighter's forward shields, and then fired back. The Kalidors crippled fifteen TIEs in their pass, shields making the difference. As the remaining TIEs passed behind them, more ion fire from the Y-wings knocked out another three. Arik shunted power from the ion cannons into his fighter's shields, and they prepared to face the onslaught again. "Squints coming in," someone warned. "A lot of 'em!" Tyris watched the rush or red blips on his display. "L- circle, now!" The Kalidors arrayed themselves in a mutually- supportive circle, hopefully forcing any attacking fighters to expose themselves to constant fire from the ship behind their target. *Let's hope they don't have missiles.* And no for- mation could last forever-- "Here they come," growled Carik. An orange streak speared into the lead interceptor, utterly destroying it. Tyris smiled in surprise as an A-wing squadron shot over the bulk of the nearest Calamari cruiser and blasted their way through the lead ships of the interceptor formation, scattering blasts and debris in their wake. "Sabers to Kalidors--lending a hand," declared the gravelly voice of Commander Madiol. "Welcome to the party, Madman." Relaxing their formation, the Kalidors unfolded like a deadly flower--or, a spider's web-- that the Sabers drove the interceptors into. "Two from below!" "Got 'im!" "Check six, Ace!" "Break! I'm coming in!" "Argh--got me!" "Eyeballs blinded," Tyris reported as the short, brutal bat- tle wound down. "Thanks for the assist." "No problem," Madiol replied. A message scrolled across his tactical display. "Got a Gunship coming in to cover us, and dupes vectoring on it. Moving to intercept." "We'll keep the back clear." "Sabers, two up, one back, attack speed." Racing past the Gunship, the A-wings tried to close the gap before the T/Bs could get their firing solutions. "He took a chunk out of me there," Myndu reported, glancing at the plate-sized holes in his rudder fins. Madiol ignored the muttering on the open comm and let loose another precious CM-4 on the bombers. As the missile zoomed into a fatal meeting with its target, an X-wing looped behind it, then continued on. "What the hell?" Hajan blurted as he launched his own mis- siles. He fumbled at the tactical screen, trying to touch the wayward X-wing's icon and open a channel, but missed. "Not now," Madiol warned. Green fire sprayed from the bomb- ers, then the formation broke as the A-wings slashed into it. "Wait..." Rhiescu cautioned as her flight, bringing up the rear, watched the other eight A-wings scramble the neatly-arrayed bombers. *Some get through.* Three of the double-hulled TIEs dipped beneath the battle enveloping their fellows and continued on course for the Gunship. "Take them, now! Free fire!" All four A-wings opened up with their cannons, punching through metal and ceramic and exploding the weapons pod of the leftmost TIE. Return fire slammed into Neridon's fighter, but he held it on course. "Two squints below!" Oryb warned. "Snapper, hold them until we're done," Rhiescu ordered as she tracked the remaining bomber, which was driving on regard- less of the damage they had dealt it. "Aye," Ilissk answered, rolling into a split-S with Oryb following. Madiol's head swiveled around to check the interceptor thr- eat, then his attention returned to the bombers. "Diver--check six!" Kazais pulled away from a bomber which had slipped into pur- suit. "Eight--" A salvo of laser fire sheared the TIE in two. "Sorry, sir." "What--" An X-wing--*the same one as before?* careened down from above the fray, spewing laser fire as fast as the guns could cycle. Hajan managed to open a channel this time. All he heard was screaming. "Watch yourselves!" The X-wing staggered through their for- mation, still firing at everything that moved-- A brief, strangled sound issued from Oryb's fighter as the X-wing vaporized it. Ilissk cursed, reflexively targeting the Rebel fighter--and then it crashed into a TIE bomber, the two ships meshing together in a horrible jumble of parts before the X-wing's torpedo rack blew, wiping the ships from existence. "Come back here!" Ilissk screamed at no one. "Trey, watch your left!" "I see it--" Jenne grunted from the g-press as he wrenched the X-wing's nose ninety degrees and opened fire on the charging TIE fighter, which spiraled in with cannons blazing. Jenne corrected his aim with microscopic nudges on the st- ick, swinging the nearly-continuous stream of shots higher...to the left...cutting up through the bottom of the TIE's cockpit pod like a knife into fruit. "Splashed!" Skye pulled up to avoid the scything remnants of one solar panel. "What now, Boss?" Aison frowned at one of the myriad icons on his tactical display. "_Liberty's_ calling for fighter support." "Form up, crew," Skye ordered the rest of the 88th. The graceful, sweeping shape of the _Liberty_ was spotlit by heavy turbolaser fire as it exchanged long-range barrages with the dis- tant Imperial fleet, putting every gun to use. Skye briefly won- dered why the Imperial capital ships were still sitting in block- ade position. Those thoughts were swept away as Aison's fighter abruptly peeled off and charged at one of the TIE interceptors. "Com--" *Huh?* Mirroring Aison's fighter, one of the interceptors broke from its squadronmates and approached Aison head-on. "Commander, what are you doing?" "This is personal," Aison replied. Skye's eyes widened in surprise when she realized that two people had spoken, on an open channel. "Just me and my brother." "Sir!" Skye struggled with her response. *This is just what you were afraid of, Keilyn--facing someone you know, and knowing it. And that's his brother--how do you think he feels?* "Let me handle this," Aison replied, his voice cold. The radio went dead, but Skye's sensors caught a reflection from a short-range comm laser. "We should have done this before you left," replied Pietr Aison over the open channel. The Rebel and the Imperial closed to weapons range. Habu's fighter locked on to one of the TIEs circling beyond the Aisons. Skye cut across his line of fire. "They're not hit- ting us or the cruiser either. Let this go." The X-wing and the TIE slipped into a duet of short bursts of fire and frantic maneuvering. Pietr had the better infighter, but Naris's accuracy and his willingness to get close in with the interceptor negated the TIE's advantages. Pietr firewalled his engines and looped away to pounce; Naris cut into the turn and stayed behind the TIE. Pietr yawed his ship around, chewing up the X-wing's forward shields and sending the fighter into a spin. Naris's hurried counterfire sheared off the top of one solar pan- el, and the ships returned to stalemate. Naris's X-wing roared toward Pietr's TIE, shield power di- verted into his engines, matching the TIE move for move, chopping at its tail with linked laser fire. Pietr broke, and the X-wing, inertia-heavy, rocketed past it. Pietr reversed, sliding onto Naris's tail as Naris also reversed. "Dammit, you'll lose a scissors fight," Skye cautioned. No one heard her. A reversal, a response, and the scissors continued, neither ship at an angle to hit the other one. The turns were getting tighter-- Naris turned hard across Pietr's path, catching his brother square in his sights even as he did the same to himself. They fired simultaneously--and both missed. Then they slammed into one another. Skye turned away, not watching as the TIE's cockpit speared itself on the X-wing's nose, enveloping both ships in shrapnel as the X-wing's nose telescoped. The X-wing's reactor burst a second later, rocket- ing debris from the collision on tails of flame. "They killed the Commander! Kill 'em!" shouted Keifr. "Stand down!" Skye roared. "They're pulling out, and they aren't targeting us." "Yes, *Boss.*" Keifr's words cut into the haze that was starting to en- velop Skye's mind. *You're in command. And Aison... you did get out of it,* added a dark sliver of her mind. The TIEs retreated, Pietr Aison's XO remaining a moment lon- ger, allowing Skye to read the name stenciled under the canopy hatch. *Yelan. He was always nice to me,* Skye thought. She rai- sed a hand in farewell, which was returned. Then Yelan spun the fighter around and raced off after his unit. "If the moment of chivalry is over," interjected someone ab- oard the _Liberty_, "there's a group of bombers approaching, ten o'clock low. Range in thirty seconds." "Be there in twenty," Skye replied. "Form up." "With you, sir," Beldrin declared. Something flashed behind her. Skye's eyes blinked shut as the canopy went white, then black as the phototropic layer shiel- ded her eyes from the blast. Then the shockwave hit. "Aaahhh!" Skye flew forward against the restraints and felt her head bounce off the canopy as a blast flipped her fighter end over end. Tootie screeched in pain and surprise behind her. The _Liberty_ was gone, reduced to a shell and a huge cloud of expanding gas. *Only one thing that could have done that--* "The Death Star fired!" shouted Jenne. *Keep control.* "Check in!" "All craft prepare to retreat," ordered Admiral Ackbar on Tac One. General Calrissian replied on the open channel, his voice tight. "You won't get another chance at this, Admiral." "We have no choice, General Calrissian. Our cruisers can't repel firepower of that magnitude!" "Han will have that shield down. We've got to give him more time!" "Eight here." "Trey standing by." "I'm ready." "Thanks, Five." Skye shook her head. "Chopper, on your three." "This is Sri--" Her fighter disintegrated. *We're all gonna die. But it won't be alone.* "The TIEs are breaking off." "Think they know something we don't?" Cermak bit off. Fighters from both sides were rushing away from the Rebel capital ships like blast fragments from an explosion--which was everyone feared would happen and did not want to be a part of. "Doesn't seem like anyone told the Imp drivers in advance," Vdren commented. Rhiescu shot down a fleeing TIE fighter. "Sirs, now is not the time for idle chatter." "You heard her," Madiol rumbled. He looked around. Their capital ships were scattering, trying to escape the reach of the Death Star's superlaser. The comm channels were flooded with conflicting reports, arguments, and chaos. "We're not through with this yet. Status, Ace?" "Holding together, Lead." Myndu waved once from his scor- ched fighter. "What's taking the ground team so long?" Tavish wondered. "Have you noticed the interdiction field?" Neridon asked. Madiol observed that the hyperdrive status board was blink- ing red. *That'll slow down Ackbar's retreat.* He stared for- ward at the Imperial fleet. "Only one way to go, people." The remnants of 88th Fleet Squadron bore down on the Imper- ial fleet, gradually reaching the milling border of fighter bat- tles that roughly divided the two fleets. Skye watched Calris- sian's Corellian freighter and the bulk of Red Group continue charging toward the Star Destroyers as the flak intensified. Behind her, the Death Star blasted another Rebel cruiser to vapor and memory. *About one minute between shots.* "Sal'sk and Zeya didn't make it out of the blast, TC," re- ported Fifteen. Cruiser fragments soared past the bulk of Kalidor squadron. "We're going ship-busting," Tyris told the others, keeping his voice even. *Staying back here will only get us chopped to bits--and we're losing good people.* Evidently someone agreed with him. The remaining Rebel cap- ital ships lit their engines en masse and accelerated toward the waiting Imperials. "There they go," commented a pilot. "45th Bombardment with you, Kalidors." "Hammers coming up on your three and nine." "What're we waiting for?" The Kalidors were joined by a growing mass of Rebel star- fighters, mostly the bombers that had been held back from the heaviest dogfights along with assorted escorts and stragglers. Tyris tagged one of the lead Star Destroyers with a targeting laser. "We'll start there." "Got a pair of eyeballs on our four," Keifr warned. "Uh..." answered Beldrin. Skye craned her head and spotted the incoming fighters. *I think we've all moved the TIEs further down our priority list.* She glanced forward and watched the enormous Star Destroyer fill a little more of her view. "Break left, we'll come around to clear your six. Keep 'em guessing." A tree-trunk-sized spoke of turbolaser energy shot past her cockpit. "Tootie, feed more into the engines." The droid chir- ped an affirmative. "Go, now!" Beldrin ordered. Beldrin and Keifr peeled off to the left as Skye, Jenne, and Veniz rolled right and reversed direction. The TIEs managed to sting Beldrin's fighter with a burst, stimulating a yelp, then Skye's group was upon them. A quad-linked burst melted holes into the front edge of one TIE's left solar panel and the rear of the right. As the pilot pulled up sharply, the weakened support strut gave way, collap- sing the port solar panel and spinning the TIE out of control. Jenne's paired salvos flew over and under the second TIE's cockpit pod. "Missed!" Veniz pulled up alongside. "Firing, sir!" Rolling slightly to track the TIE, she fired four shots in quick succession, per- forating the eyeball from solar panel to solar panel. "Thanks for the cover, Serpent," said Beldrin. "Pull up, Boss!" Keifr warned. Skye's threat detection system pinged, too late, but she was already hauling her fighter through a half-loop. Tracks of green fire zipped by beneath her, then there was another flash. "You're clear, Boss." Skye rolled and brought her fighter back to an even keel. "Thanks, Chopper." "Much obliged." A near-miss turbolaser shot made Skye flinch. "Let's get a little altitude here." "Yes, let's," mumbled Veniz. "88th, this is 312th--requesting cover for our attack run." *Yeah, you and everybody else.* Skye found the unit icon on her monitor and observed that they were lining up on the SD which the Intruders were just passing. "We copy. Stay on course and we'll be there in a moment." The five X-wings turned and flew down across the gray bulk of the Star Destroyer, too close for the turbolasers to track the accurately. Skye felt an antenna snap as her craft roared past it. "88th, another TIE squadron's dropping now! Be careful-- and hurry." "Acknowledged. Group, we're going right over the side... now!" Inverting and pulling up, the Intruders flipped over the Star Destroyer's sharply-edged bow and continued skimming just below the belly of the huge vessel. Light from multiple view- ports blended into streaks as they raced toward the mouth of the hangar bay. "Targets in sight," Jenne reported. "We'll lose cover once we pull out, so loosen up. Break on my mark--now!" G-forces slammed her into her seat and Skye heard her pulse pound as she rammed the ship into a ninety-degree turn and dove after the TIEs. There was a BANG! behind her and indicators flashed from green to yellow and red across her readouts. "Sir!" Skye wrestled with the controls, keeping her fighter on cour- se. "Just grazed me. Tootie, see what you can do." She spent a tenth of a second to make sure that no vital systems were compro- mised, then opened up on the TIEs below her, which were only now splitting up to engage the 312th's Y-wings and the new threat be- hind them. Keifr and Beldrin charged ahead, catching two TIEs with mul- tiple hits before they could change course, and further scatter- ing the others. "Trey, Eight, take the right pair. I've got the left." As the other two pursued their targets, Skye stood her fighter on its port s-foils and set her cannons to right pair/left pair- linked. Clenching her jaw, she pulled the trigger once, sawing the hatch off of her first target and spilling the pilot into space, and with a sharp twist of the controls she lined up ano- ther TIE. Ruby darts peppered the hull and the TIE careened out of the fight. "Five, break right!" Beldrin's mouth opened in surprise, then snapped shut as his turn shoved him into the corner of his seat. A green bolt slapped at his upper-left s-foil, severing the linkages to the laser cannon. "Help!" "I'm on it--keep jinking!" The TIE which had hit Beldrin had killed speed by pitching over and applying thrust, then rol- ling again to line up the X-wing. Unfortunately the TIE was now virtually motionless in space. Skye, still turning, goosed the TIE with a full salvo, blasting the cockpit pod out of existence and spinning the solar panels off in opposite directions. *Amateur.* "Thanks, sir." The Star Destroyer's anti-fighter batteries opened up. "Don't thank me yet! Three-one-two, what's your sit?" "Torpedoes away!" "I got him!" Veniz interjected as her fire found a target. Skye followed the tracks of the torpedoes to Veniz's fight- er. "You've picked up a tail!" "I'm on it," Jenne reassured her. "More eyeballs dropped!" A group of four TIEs were catapulted out of the Star De- stroyer's hangar. "Sharps," Skye mumbled. The fire-control TIEs were not heavily armed, being used primarily for target desig- nation and gunnery spotting. They were, however, faster and more maneuverable than the standard eyeballs that the Intruders were mixed up with. Her sensors detected a beam painting Jenne's fighter. *!* "Trey! They're trying to lock on you! Go evasive! I've got the TIE." Jenne flung the ship into a tight circle as two concussion missiles converged in the spot where he'd just been. Lighter but not less lethal fire nibbled at Veniz's tail. "Get me out of here!" "Veniz! Keep it together!" Skye lined up the eyeball and cut loose with deflection fire as she flew past, three rounds connecting with the hull and savaging it. "I'm--" Another fusillade swatted Keifr away. Jenne des- troyed the TIE/fc that had been sighting the now-dead X-wing a moment later. "No..." the lieutenant whispered. Torpedo hits blossomed spheres of destructive energy across the Star Destroyer's hull, incinerating several gun turrets and the troublesome missile launcher. "Going for the rest, thanks for the assist, 88th." Skye shook her head, watching Keifr's remains slam into the Destroyer's hull. Jenne made a twisting, spiraling dive toward the ISD's hull. "I'm gon' help 'em!" he shouted, loosing a pair of torpedoes at one of the numerous intact portside batteries. "Get clear of the ship!" Skye ordered. "I don't think the big 'uns can track us this close--" A heavy turbolaser blast blotted Three from the sky. Its energy unspent, the rest of the beam continued on toward the Escort Frigate that it had been directed at. "Oh..." gasped Veniz. A sharp crossed Beldrin's flight path. "You're mine!!" He pushed the throttles to the stops and raced after the TIE, firing all three remaining cannons simultaneously, swatting at the re- treating fighter. Another TIE slid in behind him. "Five, watch your back!" In reply, Skye heard a slowly building scream as Beldrin ran down the TIE/fc. "Stay with me, Five!" Grimacing, Skye foc- used on the TIE pursuing Beldrin. "Shoot, sir!" urged Veniz. "Beldrin's in the line of fire!" Skye hauled back on the stick. *Got to take him from high--not much time.* "Get a de- flection shot, any way you can. Beldrin, WAKE UP!" Beldrin shouted in triumph as his fire tore the TIE to shreds. The TIE pilot opened fire a moment later. Shots blasted away the remnants of the damaged s-foil, punctured the engine cowling and exploded the entire portside fuel system, and blew the head off the R2 unit, but the X-wing flew on. The pilot held fire and corrected his aim, settling the crosshairs dead- center on the X-wing-- A red laser bolt screamed down from above, coring the TIE's fuselage. Skye watched an internal explosion spray shrapnel from the dying craft, then pulled behind Beldrin, whose shriek of pain seared the same feeling into Skye. "Beldrin!" The reply was slow and slurred. "I got 'im, Boss." "Are you all right?" Veniz interrupted. Inside the shattered remains of his cockpit, Beldrin stared blankly at his blood-soaked flightsuit and felt shrapnel digging further into his arm as he adjusted his throttles. "Been better." *Got to save them,* Skye suddenly thought, searching her screens for friendly ships and consciously ignoring the TIE thr- eat for the moment. "The _Svivren_ is coming up on our eight o' clock. We'll take you in." Her comm crackled with static for a moment. Skye watched the obsolescent Bulk Cruiser sail closer, cannons pounding. *Hold together, you hunk of junk.* "Ack...nowledged, Cap." Beldrin's fighter turned with ago- nizing slowness. "Stay with us." Skye pitched down and blasted an approach- ing TIE. "88th to _Svivren_, request emergency recovery and med- ical support--injured pilot coming in!" "We copy, 88th. Pick any bay--your man won't be alone." *Damn triage docs.* "Thanks." She turned to inspect Bel- drin's X-wing-- "Steady out!" Skye kicked her fighter up five meters as Beldrin's ship drifted beneath her. "Sorry, sir," Beldrin hissed. "Uh...I've got ten seconds to tractor acquisition." "Captain! Three--" "Yeah. Stay with Tops!" Skye flipped her fighter onto its back, punching the throttles to maximum. The TIEs opened fire. Gray trimmed the edge of Skye's vision as she barrel-rolled tightly around the incoming laser bolts. *Come and take it...* Mashing her thumb down on the trigger, she launched a pro- ton torpedo. The round covered the distance between X-wing and TIE in a heartbeat, detonating between the second and third ships, energy hammering the fragile hulls and splitting the TIEs open at the seams. The first TIE shied from the blast, rolling to starboard, the blast shoving the TIE directly into Skye's line of fire, where it vanished a moment later. "Good job, sir." "He's aboard?" "Fine, sir--Cap'n, whole bunch of dupes inbound--I'm going to help." Veniz's tone was harder than Skye had ever heard it before. "Let's get 'em, Lieutenant." Veniz whisked over the top of the _Svivren_ at roughly the same speed as the turbolaser fire it was pouring out. Ahead of her, the bombers were splitting up-- Carefully-aimed shots laid in the path of the lead bomber found it in a moment, stabbing into the cockpit pod and taking the craft apart like a quickly-reversed holo of its construction. The _Svivren_'s gunners cut another two apart. The remaining nine released their bombs. *The _Svivren_ doesn't have anti-missile guns,* Skye real- ized, her heart turning into ice. She squinted at the glowing specks racing terminally at the Rebel ship. *Too far to hit.* Veniz desperately worked her controls, knocking down two bombs with her lasers and then launching a torpedo of her own, vaporizing another three "eggs" and flash-burning the paint off her ship. Her efforts had rotated her fighter almost broadside to the thrust of the attack. With perfect clarity, she realized that there would be no way for her to turn and face the last four bombs. So she didn't. All four struck her fighter in a line from nose to tail and exploded. The fireball claimed Veniz and five more bombers, outshining the distant sun for a moment. The _Svivren_ shook, hull plates buckling as the shockwave burst against it--but the bulkheads held. *No. No. No.* Skye's fingers dug into her control grips as she watched the light fade. *They're all dead. They're all dead...* The surviving four bombers flew out of the vapor cloud. Skye's face became a mask of hatred. *They're all dead.* Rage clouded Skye's mind, and the world shrank to contain only her and the two nearest TIE bombers. Her shields flared under their bombardment, and the fighter shuddered by her own hand as she whipped it around in a flat spin, engines still bla- zing. She fired twice in quick succession, each shot finding its mark, punching through the TIE hulls and killing their pi- lots. The other two ran. With the red lock-on light gleaming in her eyes, Skye launched a torpedo and watched the bombers burn. Her comm clicked. "Thanks for the cover, 88th. Uh, Cap- tain, we advise that you return to the ship." *'One way or another, I'm getting out of this right here.' I'm going to see this battle through...for Aison if not all of them.* "Negative." "Captain!" * * * Riding at the head of a stampede, Tyris gripped the target- ing joystick tightly in his right hand while his left flipped a bank of switches behind him. Both verbally and on his tactical screen, the massed Rebel bombers signaled their readiness. "Fire on my mark...Three. Two. One. Fire!" A wave of proton torpedoes lashed out at the Star Destroyer, but their courses rapidly diverged from anything approaching the massive vessel, the ordnance veering off in a wide front ahead of the ship. Tyris watched another array of indicator lights flash green. "Designating now! Stand by second pass!" He pulled the trigger. Invisible beams linked the B-wing to the Star Destroyer as the laser-targeting designator fired. The torpedoes suddenly changed course, their electronic brains gleefully lining up the warheads for their final flight. The Star Destroyer's anti-missile system answered, streams of laser fire spraying from turrets on the vessel's midline, tag- ging and detonating ten, then twenty, then fifty of the incoming warheads, but the torpedoes were so numerous and coming in from so many different directions that the system had no way to catch all of them. Sixty-seven torpedoes detonated against the Star Destroyer's shields, the flashes hiding the secondary explosions of crushed turrets and hull plating. In a moment, the Star Destroyer's up- per hull was bare of its anti-missile systems and half of the turbolaser cannons. "Great shooting!" someone shouted. "Second pass, go now!" As the Rebel bombers dove upon the wounded capital ship, its remaining guns kept firing, knocking down three Y-wings in the first few seconds, but like the torpedoes, the bombers were too numerous to stop. Taimi dove her Y-wing to the surface of the ship, racing along at an insane height--*Giana is taller than this,* she real- ized with a grin--strafing the hull under the reach of the De- stroyer's weapons. In the back, Arik popped off shots at power conduits and sensor globes, squinting as the ion cannon flashed continuously above him. They peeled off as additional torpedoes widened the wounds the first attack had made, disrupting huge sections of the ISD's power system and starting fires across the hull. High above them on their right, a Calamari cruiser angled across the Destroyer's path, discharging broadsides which were only weakly answered by the Imperial vessel, and then not at all. Cheers flooded the radio as escape pods began launching from the now-crippled Star Destroyer. "Good job," declared a voice from a ship Tyris's computer tagged as the _Wyvern_. "Requesting assistance here, though." "We'll take it," replied the Hammers' CO. "Regroup," Tyris ordered. The Kalidors began drawing up in loose echelon behind him. "Where's Oose?" asked Three. "Augered in," Djanka replied crisply. "Set up for attack run on second target," Tyris broke in, selecting another Star Destroyer on his display. "Backup on this one?" queried Turlan. "Whatever we've got coming up behind us," answered Tyris. The Rebel fleet was plowing into the Imperial defenders, its formations shattered by the loss of ships to the Death Star as they had fled the superlaser, but what they lacked in organi- zation on their approach was compensated by their speed, daring, and desperation. Now, the Imperial line was holed in several places by Rebel ships that were charging in from above, below, and straight through and exploiting any gaps they had. "There's a coupl'a cruisers coming up behind us," Carik ob- served drily. "Lancer and TIEs coming in from behind target," announced Kobrin. "Combat spread, stay sharp." Tyris slewed the laser desig- nator onto the Lancer's boatlike form as the anti-fighter vessel turned broadside-on to them, drawing a line between the Kalidors and the Star Destroyer. "Cruiser _Whirlwind_ to Kalidors. You take those TIEs out of my sky, and we'll take that Lancer out of yours." The cruiser moving up behind them exchanged volleys with the Star Destroyer, but Tyris knew that it still had enough firepower left to deal with the Lancer. The _Wyvern_ crept out of the way, smoke streaming from its hull. "We copy, _Whirlwind_. Kalidors, TIEs are first priority. Don't approach the Lancer yet." Cannonfire sizzled into TIEs and Y-wings, straining shields on one side and boiling hulls on the other. The Kalidors kept up the contact as they drew away from the TIEs, gunners tracking the TIE bombers that were mixed into the formation and disabling them with ion cannon fire. Staying at arm's length from the Star Destroyer, the _Whirl- wind_ hit the Lancer hard with both turbolasers and ion cannons. The smaller vessel, not designed for combat against capital-class vessels, collapsed under the barrage, explosions starting in the engine section and hopscotching up the vessel's spine, leaving a charred derelict in their wake. "You're clear, Kalidors." "Thanks for the cover. Our targets have been thoroughly plonked. Proceeding to engage the Destroyer. Hoo-rah." "We'll get out of your way." * * * A burning Assault Frigate plowed into the middle of the Star Destroyer that had crippled it, spitting out giant strips of the hull, streams of flaming gas, and bodies as it gouged decks out of the Imperial vessel's superstructure. The Frigate shattered under the impact, its enormous finned stern wrenching free and smashing against the Destroyer's conning tower like an enormous bat. The conglomerate sheared off the hull, leaking air and bodies. The remaining portions of the Star Destroyer emerged from the cloud of debris surrounding it, still fighting and firing from its surviving batteries. Some craft ignored the titanic struggles around them and fought their own epic battles, however smaller the combatants. Two TIE interceptors locked onto an X-wing and rocked it with hits, severing the starboard s-foils. The Rebel fighter careened out of control and blew up, but not before crippling one of its attackers with a final cannon salvo. Madiol witnessed the X-wing's destruction with unusual de- tachment. His first squadron, the 102nd Prowlers, had just fought its last battle. "Closing on the TIEs," Hajan declared on the unnaturally- quiet channel. "No prisoners," Madiol spoke. "Bracket, lead-lead attack. See it, shoot it." "Stick with your wingman," Hajan added one more time. Breaking into pairs, the Sabers slashed into the TIE forma- tion. "I've got that one." "Two above you!" "Cover me, Shiv." Myndu's fighter exploded for no apparent reason an instant later. Fragments peppered Tavish's fighter as it flashed past the wreckage. The shrapnel little damage, but the four TIEs that simultan- eously fired on her did. "My engines're out!" she exclaimed. "Get her to cover!" Madiol barked. His cannons spun to blast a squint while his fighter tore off in another direction, spoiling the shot of an Interceptor that had crept between him and Hajan. Ice vaped the TIE before it could get off another salvo. "On your twelve, Shiv." Rhiescu's A-wing whipped around Ta- vish's, laser fire reaching out for Myndu's original target. "Break off!" warned Ten. Rhiescu cut hard right as green flashes highlighted her ship from below. An interceptor streaked through Ilissk's sights. "On it," the Quarren announced. Kicking his engines to full, he swept into pursuit of the TIE. "There's another one!" cautioned Neridon. The second squint arrowed up past the A-wing's bow closely enough for the Calamari to almost hear it, vacuum or not. One eye swiveling to follow the TIE, Ten rolled his craft in the other direction, coming ab- out in a tight loop that put him behind the TIE that was pursuing Ilissk. Rhiescu circled her craft around Tavish's. "Can you re- start?" she asked. "Number two only," Tavish replied nervously. Rhiescu checked her scopes, eyes darting back and forth as she watched the rest of the squadron locked in a furious battle with the bulk of the TIEs. "The _Defiance_ is about ten klicks away--I'll take you in." Neridon screamed as his ship was hit from behind. Tavish shook her head. "Go help the others, sir. I'll make it alone." "Ten--status!" "My cannons are out! Switching to missiles--but he's on me tight!" Ilissk swooped past him, trailing pieces of the TIE he had just destroyed. "I've got him, Bonehead." The cannon servos hummed as they rotated, cutting an arc of fire between Neridon and the interceptor. The TIE pilot pulled up frantically, still firing, and ran straight into Eleven's second burst, which kick- ed the interceptor to port. A shot melted through the canopy, killing the pilot just as he squeezed the trigger. Alarms howled in Ilissk's cockpit. "Eject!" yelled Rhiescu. "'And we will return to the sea,'" Ilissk quoted to Neridon. His engines exploded, bursting the A-wing in a font of plasma. Neridon saluted Ilissk with his finned hand. Rhiescu fought to control her emotions, forcing the tight knot in her throat away with a small scream. "Ten--" "This is the _Defiance_ to 13th Fleet--proceeding with re- covery of your pilot. Sky is clear." "Copy that, _Defiance_." "Hurry up!" crackled the comm. The view forward was dominated by flashes of light and the glint of flying metal. The other six A-wings of the Sabers were holding their own against twice their number of TIE interceptors, but the additional four inbound would certainly tip the balance of the raging battle to the Imperials. As Nine and Ten closed the range, a TIE scored on Madiol's ship, starting a brief but intense fire. "I'm all right!" he called, rolling away as shots burst all around his fighter. Hajan took a chunk out of the offending TIE. "Dive!" A new knot formed in the weaving melee. "Lasers out, but missiles armed," Neridon spoke, words timed to the scarlet flashing of the crosshairs. "Locked and *firing!*" Concussion missiles exploded from both distant A-wings. Rhiescu's target evaded at the last second but could not outrun the blast wave which scalloped out the back half of the fighter, while Neridon's round ran straight and true into the fuselage of a second interceptor. "Nice shot." "Thanks." Neridon pulled ahead and fired two more missiles, and then his fighter exploded, the fourth round fouling in a mis- sile tube subtly damaged in the combat earlier. "Ner--" Rhiescu's hands flew up reflexively to cover her face as the searing flash blinded her for an instant, tipping her A-wing into a roll. Something smashed hard against the upper hull-- Rhiescu found herself spinning away from the immediate bat- tle, hands and feet already fighting for control. *Must've blacked out.* The A-wing leveled off. Warning indicators flashed amber and scarlet on every panel. Methodically, she hit switches and bypassed systems, bringing the ship back to relative nominal. *Then* she noticed the damage. Her port upper stabilizer had been sheared off, leaving a ten-centimeter stub above the fuselage. The cockpit had been breached, somewhere, and air seemed to be sporadically leaking out. Her helmet and visor had automatically sealed, and Rhiescu reached up to complete the job, noting that her right arm didn't seem to be working the way it should have. "You're still in my line!" "Just take the shot!" Rhiescu ignored her arm and poured power into the engines. *Gotta help the squadron.* Henyl closed her eyes and hit the trigger, rippling cannon fire into the back of the interceptor trailing her wingleader. The TIE glowed orange for a moment, then flew apart, solar panels and fuselage sailing in different directions. Henyl opened her eyes. Kazais's cannon servos unlocked, spinning the guns into the aft position that they had been unable to reach when he'd needed them a few moments before. *Great timing.* "You're clear, sir." A bolt struck Kazais's fighter just behind the cockpit. There was a brief burst of static on the commline, and his craft, pitching lazily, tumbled into space. "Sir!" Henyl shouted. "Th--Seven is down!" A heavy gloved hand shot up to the back of her neck as she fought back tears and her grimace of distress. Several pairs of eyes searched for a target and found none. Hajan watched the dying fighter for a moment and swallowed hard. The TIEs were still following Eight. "Henyl, get up here," Madiol ordered. "Yes--" "Move!" Rhiescu shouted inarticulately. The TIE that had slipped in behind Henyl loosed a volley of deadly energy. Most of it was absorbed by Rhiescu's concussion missile as the projectile homed in on its target. Space glowed again as the warhead exploded, the blast wave absorbing the fire meant for Henyl's ship. Hajan annihilated the TIE with a missile of his own. "I think we're clear," observed Vdren. Madiol surveyed the blazing wrecks, frozen bodies, and scar- red derelicts all around them, and the fighting that still stret- ched from horizon to horizon. "Are we?" * * * "High-speed eyeball on your six low, Old Lady." Taimi nodded to her sensor display. "I see it, Turl." She cranked the throttles all the way back and hauled back the stick. The Y-wing's thrust vectrals spun into the fully-closed pos- ition, effectively reversing thrust. The TIE shot past, unable to match even the heavier-massed fighter's deceleration. As it slid past, Taimi ran up the throttles and pitched the nose down, aiming between the protruding tubes of the Y-wing's lasers. The TIE's pilot pulled back on the control yoke nearly hard enough to tear it off, trying to bring the fighter's guns to bear-- Taimi lit up the fighter. The TIE flew on, tumbling, gold-orange fire coating every surface. She fired twice more and the fighter came apart explo- sively. As Taimi turned her ship away from the spreading shrap- nel and the Star Destroyer behind it, she caught a glimpse of a beat-up Corellian freighter racing around the capital ship's conning tower in the opposite direction. "Nothing's too old to fly!" she laughed. * * * "The shield is down! Commence attack on the Death Star's main reactor." Skye hesitated for a moment. *Shield? No shield on that.* She fired on the TIE in front of her, bracketing it, gradually cutting down the room it had to maneuver until it had none-- Her laser fire slashed into the TIE from both sides, melting the solar panels off, then blurring the outline of the fuselage. The fuel tanks burst, blowing the back half of the TIE away from the front. Skye sought out another target, vaguely aware that the comm was signalling. "Red Group! Gold Group! All fighters follow me!" *I--what am I doing?* Skye turned her X-wing to face the Death Star. *You can't win this by yourself, out here...* The _Millennium Falcon_ and several squadrons of Rebel fighters were already zooming toward the massive battle platform, followed by a scattered but growing mass of TIEs. Trailing the first wave was a further mixture of Rebel and Imperial fighters, ignoring each other in the race to the surface of the Death Star. "Increase engine power, Tootie." The R2's beep was laced with surprise--it was the first time Skye had spoken in nearly ten minutes. The Death Star grew larger and larger, details of the huge gridwork of surface structures becoming visible, areas the size of cities sprawling as far as the eye could see. Its curvature was visible, making the planetary scale of the malevolent Imper- ial construction all the more apparent. The scenery didn't really matter, yet. Skye was in range. A TIE fighter caught her first salvo, port solar panel tearing off, the remainder of the fighter pirouetting in the opposite direction. *Out of the fight.* An idea formed in her mind. Skye punched up the navigational chart and located the pri- mary shaft selected for the Rebel attack. Altering course, she aimed her fighter ahead of the rest of the fighter attack, let- ting the racing snubs drift behind and beneath her. "Shift cannon power to engines," she ordered. Tootie re- sponded with a burst that pushed her agreeably into her ejection seat. Flak reached up for her as she approached the surface, green laser fire and golden explosions strobing around her X-wing. The gray battlements rushed closer-- Snapping the stick to the left, Skye rolled her craft into a sharp split-S, dropping to ten meters above the rugged surface with cannonfire erupting all around her. The _Falcon_ was a large glowing spot on the horizon. *Even if I couldn't see it, I could just follow the flak trail,* Skye thought with a small grin. She armed her torpedoes. The Rebel vanguard raced past the X-wing's nose, drawing the TIEs to her-- Skye pulled the trigger twice. Four torpedoes shot from her fighter, racing toward the TIEs-- And diving into the Death Star's surface at the last moment. Giant explosions scooped out tons of debris from the metal ter- rain, fanning shrapnel into the path of the pursuing Imperials. A multistory gantry cartwheeled into space, catching two eyeballs on each end on the way up and a third in the middle as it fell back to the surface. The second torpedo cut the middle out of a laser turret tower, rocketing the top into the belly of a trail- ing interceptor. Skye pulled up into a loop as the carnage continued below her, spotting Red Group through her canopy, still being pursued by TIEs, though quite a few less of them. "Thanks for the cover," someone called. A quad salvo swatted another TIE into the surface. "Go get 'em." Turbolaser fire winked around her. Tootie shrilled in alarm at a beam that zipped a meter over its domed head. As Skye dove further to evade, the X-wing rocked, nose lif- ting skyward. She shoved the fighter back down, fighting her controls as she did so. "Did we lose a stabilizer back there?!" Skye shouted, try- ing to evade fire and stay somewhat on course. The droid whined. "Get me some control back," Skye replied darkly. Tootie linked with the flight computer. The shaft opening into the Death Star's bowels approached. "Go in?" Skye asked. "No way," Tootie responded, displaying the words prominently on Skye's HUD. Skye twisted the control column and the X-wing yawed erra- tically. "Okay, maybe you're right." She swung the nose around in a wide turn, aligning with a new set of Imperial fighters. "But we can stop those TIEs from going down there." "The Death Star is turning away from the fleet--it may be repositioning to destroy the Endor Moon." "That's not good," Arik spoke. The Kalidors moved into the heart of the Imperial formation, the Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ and its escort vessels. The Imperial fleet was collapsing like the deflector shield, falling back away from Endor and the Death Star as the Rebel cru- isers, still terribly outnumbered, lashed out at their oppres- sors. Never intended to participate in the reactor run, the Kalidors and most of the B-wing squadrons threw themselves into the teeth of Star Destroyer fire. Most of the Kalidor bombers still held four to six torpe- does, and half retained two KAB-750 anti-ship concussion bombs racked under their engine support struts. And they had a target. "_Ravager_, this is Kalidor Squadron. Remember us?" After the Kalidors had defected, the _Ravager_ had led the force assigned to "sanitize" their homeworld of Rebel influence-- killing thousands. Over the years, the squadron had participated in the destruction of each ship in the task force--the _Ravager_ was last on the list. "...because we certainly remember you." Click--if the Imp- erials had a response, the Commander wasn't listening. Tyris changed frequencies. "Counterbattery first pass, I'll designate for torpedo runs on the second. Make it happen!" Cannons blazing, the Kalidors pounced on the _Ravager_, tra- ding blows with the forward batteries and brushing aside the few TIEs that stood in their way. Tyris's B-wing skimmed the long edge of the Star Destroyer, Lobazyn sniping at the turrets that pummeled the huge fighter's shields. Tyris marked vital systems on the targeting computer, preparing for the second, critical attack run. The Rhiescus led a flight down the length of the ship, fly- ing inverted, pilots strafing with the lasers and gunners blast- ing ion cannon fire almost straight down. The center of the conning tower grew rapidly in the forward viewport. *No snappy messages, just _this_!* Her thumb pushed down on the torpedo trigger. The Y-wing flew clear as two proton torpedoes detonated ag- ainst the bridge shielding, wreathing the windows in a shower of sparks. A turbolaser beam licked the bottom of the fighter as they pulled away. There was a flash in the back of the cockpit fol- lowed by the hissing jets of the fire-suppression system, and Arik gave a sharp grunt as Taimi jinked harder. "Arik!" Arik heard a hiss within his pressure suit and felt a ring close around his right knee. Stabbing pain shot up his right calf. "It's okay--I'll make it!" Taimi's voice filled with distress. "Don't lie to me." Arik gripped the gunnery yoke with both hands, hauling him- self to a fully-sitting position, ignoring his wife and the pain. "Setting up for second pass, Ty!" "I hope you're right, Arik." Tyris pressed his lips toge- ther and evaluated the situation. Taree's bomber had also been hit and had jammed landing gear, but that wasn't an immediate problem; everyone else had weakened shields, which wasn't that much of a problem either. "All right, group, stand by second run." "It's pretty hot in there," Ikela protested mildly. "Mind if we join in?" asked a familiar Calamari voice. The _Whirlwind_ had returned, rumbling toward the _Ravager's_ fore starboard quarter. "We get the kill," Tyris warned. Not waiting for the re- sponse, he signalled the others. "Ten second egress, then go!" The _Ravager_ ignored the apparently-fleeing Kalidors to pound away at the onrushing _Whirlwind_. Heavy turbolaser fire immediately enveloped both ships as they battered at each other's shields. The Kalidors flew into the maelstrom. Seven Flight arced down over the _Ravager's_ port stern, emptying their torpedo racks into the Star Destroyer's aft shield tree. Thirteen and Nineteen Flights duplicated the procedure on the vessel's keel, giant explosions trailing their passage. Lead Flight arrowed up toward the exposed bottom of the Destroyer's reactor sphere and released their bombs. The anti-ship ordnance coasted toward the Destroyer for a mo- ment, then terminal dive motors in their stubby tails fired, thrusting the shells into the thick armor surrounding the reactor housing. Faint blue-white flashes burst out from under the pla- ting, matching with the lights flickering across the ship, but for a moment nothing else happened. Parallel tracks of cannonfire providing his aimpoint, Kobrin dropped his bombs. The cylinders, briefly highlighted by streaks of reflected turbolaser fire, vanished against the bulk of the _Ravager_. Then everything blew up. Kobrin's bombs burrowed several decks deep into the Star De- stroyer before detonating, finishing the job that the other bombs had begun. Yellow fire tore a huge gash out of the superstruc- ture, flinging the vessel's guts hundreds of meters into space, the blast digging a furrow back down toward the portside edge of the Destroyer that was echoed underneath the vessel as another stupendous explosion blew the front off the reactor sphere. The shock triggered a chain reaction that raced down the ship's keel, shattering the battleship's back before expanding to consume the entire Star Destroyer. Kalidor Squadron, charred but whole, soared away from the conflagration. Tyris heaved a small sigh of relief. One more injustice had been repaid. "We've got to give those fighters more time. Concentrate all fire on that Super Star Destroyer!" "Have we got a room for one more ship?" Carik inquired. "Commencing run!" "Providing cover." Rhiescu and Henyl tailed two flights of Green Squadron as they set up to strafe the _Executor's_ conning tower. "Eyeballs, your one high, Dart," Henyl called. "Engaging." Rhiescu peeled off, firing all the way. "Squints!" called one of their Green companions. "Where? Wait...got 'em. Come on, Five." "On your wing, Arvel." The trailing pair of A-wings rock- eted off to port. A turbolaser blast halved the lead flight. Henyl accelerated to follow her new element leader. "Ap- proaching target." "Do it," Rhiescu called as she flew past her first, smoking victim. Henyl's only thought as the SSD's port sensor dome dominated her view was the sheer *size* of the Imperial construction. *How am I going to hurt _that_?* Green was already pounding the giant gray dome, breaking Henyl's ponderance. The lead A-wing pulled away, and Henyl's cannons spoke, the flight officer peeling off at the last possi- ble moment. Behind her, the dome burst, vomiting a gout of flame that splashed across Henyl's tail. Compared to the tower's explosion, Henyl's demise was barely a spark. Rhiescu ignored the throbbing in her shoulder as she searched for any sign of Henyl, hopeless as it was. *Sorry, Ice.* "Bridge deflector shields out!" Green Five whooped. "We've got 'em!" Halfway down the _Executor's_ phenomenal length, Green Squadron's remaining A-wings regrouped to attack. "Wow." Taimi goggled at the battle raging before her as the _Execu- tor_ slugged it out with the _Headquarters Frigate_, _Whirlwind_, and two other cruisers. Overloaded shields were collapsing all around and hulls ran with melted armor, but the battle raged on. A moment after she spoke, a ball of fire illuminated the Super Star Destroyer's conning tower. "One torpedo left," Arik reported. "Shall I?" Taimi reached a hand back, patting her husband on the shoul- der. He held it for a moment. "Stick it to 'em." Kalidor Squadron's final torpedo made a tiny, bright blossom against the _Executor's_ number ten engine. A fraction of a sec- ond later, something blazed a trail of light through the vessel's conning tower and the huge ship listed to port. "Did I do that?" Gunfire still erupting from every port, the _Executor_ gut- ted one of the cruisers with turbolaser fire as it sank toward the Death Star. The Rebel gunners adjusted their aim, concentra- ting all fire on the Super Star Destroyer's engines, shaking hun- dred-meter sections of hull plating free, creating a kilometers- wide fan of debris around the stern of the diving behemoth. The _Whirlwind_ pursued relentlessly as Imperial fire slackened and escape pods began deploying, the Cruiser's batteries punching through to a fuel bunker which washed fire across a mile of the _Executor's_ stern. The flaming arrowhead plowed into the Death Star seconds later, ripping deep into the bowels of the space station before vanishing in yet one more titanic explosion. Skye blasted away from the surface of the Death Star, which was rapidly deteriorating under Rebel bombardment and spontaneous ventings and explosions which could have only one cause. "Move the fleet away from the Death Star!" commanded Admiral Ackbar on all channels. "Explosion imminent!" "They did it!" Vdren hooted. Madiol closed his eyes in relief for a moment, then opened his throttles all the way. Arik Rhiescu, numb from blood loss, had a spectacular view from his rear-facing seat as explosions pockmarked the Death Star's surface, and then the entire gargantuan structure became a nova brighter than the sun. *We've won,* he thought, and passed out. ENDOR: Conclusion "I need a corpsman here *now*!" Taimi shouted as she popped her Y-wing's canopy. Other shouts and the sounds of heavy mach- inery filled her cockpit, the sounds of battle over--or almost. Taimi shoved the canopy up with her back as she turned around to free Arik from his seat straps, desperate fingers struggling with the catches. Her husband moaned and stirred somewhat. "Wake up, Arik." Taimi grimaced at the blood slicking Arik's boot. Slipping her arms under his, she pulled him out of the cockpit and rested him on the hull. One leg remained draped over the canopy sill--as she lifted it free, something pricked her hand through her flight gloves. Blood tinged the shrapnel glinting in her palm. "Get me some help here!" she shouted again. Three berths down on the flight line, an X-wing's landing gear collapsed, crushing the tech who was trying to shore it up. His fellows rushed to free the screaming, thrashing man while others ran past to quench the fire that suddenly erupted on the adjacent Y-wing. A ladder clanged against the nose of Taimi's ship. "How is he?" Tyris demanded, clambering up alongside the woman. "Bleeding badly," Taimi answered, her jaw tight. Tyris's scarred hands carefully scooped up Arik's legs and with Taimi's assistance the Colonel carried the old gunner from the Y-wing. "Don't miss the party, Arik," demanded Tyris. They ran out of the hangar. "Coming through! Make a hole!" Shoving their way through medics and wounded, the surviving Silver Sabers bore their com- mander aloft into the _Headquarters Frigate's_ sickbay. At the head of the formation was Rhiescu, right arm dangling uselessly, left hand clamped on her bloody right shoulder, shouting more forcefully than any of them had ever heard. The pilots waded into triage, and even Rhiescu was drowned out. A legless, twitching Calamari was rushed into surgery as they entered, his companion doubling over and vomiting. Crewmem- bers cried in pain from burns or wounds, and the harried medical staff shouted orders and contradictions to one another as the casualties accumulated. An Ithorian administered last rites to species that no one was taking the time to identify. Moving ab- out the chamber and huddled in the corners were those whose in- juries didn't merit immediate attention, or who the staff just couldn't spare the time to deal with. A Sluissi corpsman slithered up to them, datapad tucked un- der one arm. "What is the nature of his injury?" the snakelike being inquired calmly. "We're not sure," Hajan replied. "His fighter was hit but he stayed in the fight, but--" Hajan's words were coming out in a rush, but still too slow- ly for Cermak. "He bloody nearly bought it on landing and he's NOT CONSCIOUS! I think he's got internal bleeding! Get to him NOW!" He took a step, then another, toward the Sluissi, who did not flinch. Hajan restrained Cermak before the pilot could do any serious damage to the corpsman. "I'm all right," Madiol murmured weakly. The Sluissi pulled out a hand scanner. "Let's get him to a cot--" Rhiescu sank to her knees, then fell facefirst to the deck. Skye reached out and touched Beldrin's face. "You did a good job," she said quietly. She stepped aside, allowing two orderlies to lift Beldrin into a body bag. Her vision clouded, and she blinked her eyes to clear them. *They're all dead. You're all that's left of the unit, Kei- lyn. *The unit.* Skye wondered whether she had ever truly felt a sense of belonging to the Intruders, even after nearly four years with them. Her place always seemed to be by herself. *And now I'm alone. I suppose that's appropriate.* Something touched her arm lightly. "Captain?" Skye turned slowly to face the Calamari doctor in front of her. "Yes?" "The pilot, there, was conscious long enough to tell us to give you this." He held out a data chip. "He said that you would know what to do." Skye picked up the clear sliver of plastic carefully, ex- pecting it to shatter at her touch. "Thank you." The doctor nodded and continued on through the ward. Keilyn read the tiny letters atop the chip. *His family.* Hajan shuffled through sickbay with only a small remnant of his combat adrenalin keeping him conscious. He passed Madiol's bacta tank and Vdren, hunched over in a chair nearby, struggling to keep up his own vigil. Cermak lay on an abandoned cot in the line of wounded along the passageway outside the ICU, his aggres- sion finally drained away by sleep. Rhiescu looked up at him as he moved to her bed in observation, but the painkillers being pumped into her wounded arm prevented her from doing anything more than mirroring his expression. And Tavish was... which ship was Tavish on? Hajan took a few more steps. And where was Henyl? It took him a minute to realize that she had died. Then he too sat down on the floor, contemplated his loss, finally sinking into the comforting nothingness of sleep. * * * Arik adjusted the bacta wrap on his right leg. "Did I miss the first round of drinks?" he quipped as Taimi entered the cur- tained-off area around his bed. His wife shook her head. "You're impossible, y'know." She hiked her left leg up on the bed and sat next to Arik, grimacing slightly at the oddly-colored swirls in the bacta. "Better than a bath in the stuff," Arik told her, reaching up to hold her hand. She leaned back and cradled his head. "How about one with me?" She smiled and winked. Arik visibly pondered the idea. "Sticky, but interesting--" "Not in--" Taimi sputtered, then laughed, resting her head on Arik's chest. "I was really worried about you." Arik nodded. "It's over, though." "For now, at least. Arik, how much longer are we going to stay in this?" "You know what we promised." She sighed. "I do." Husband and wife shared a glance. Arik changed the subject. "Now, you mentioned as they were slapping this glob on me that the children were fine?" Taimi sighed again. "Giana--" "Giana's fine," Giana reassured, pulling back the curtain to admit Maricica into the gathering before she closed it behind them. "Though I'll be better in a few days," she added, adjust- ing the sling supporting her right arm. "What happened?" both parents asked simultaneously. "I...not now." Giana's head dipped and her hand went to her mouth, then she looked up. Maricica put an arm around her youn- ger sister's shoulder and guided her to Arik's bedside. Taimi reached for Maricica's hands, which were bandaged, tiny drops of red showing against the stark white of the dres- sings. Maricica shrugged it off. "Little fire in the engineering section. My hands will make it." "But you..." Giana began, looking at her father with concern. "I'll be better." Arik held his arms out for a hug. "What's important is that you're all here." They held each other for a long time. "You're kidding." "Oh, come on! I'm just going to watch, at most pop the pylon release. The battle's over." Arik paused after he said that, as both he and Tyris knew that several ships had already split off from the fleet to keep up the pressure on the fleeing Imperials. And no one knew if any of the other still-numerous Imperial fleets would be visiting En- dor to look for souvenirs of the battle whose debris was still cooling. Tyris inspected Arik's bandaged leg and his crutches, then stared out the viewport at Endor, where the terminator was just beginning to cross the former location of the shield generator. Meteors streaked across the darkened half of the planet--mostly pieces of wreckage. *Ty, you don't ever put pilots into your ships if they're less than one hundred percent. *Oh, hell.* He planted his hands on his hips, and, keeping his gaze fix- ed on the stars, spoke. "Have a good time." Hajan walked into the empty operations room overlooking the _Vortex's_ main hangar and listened to the peculiar silence. "I never got to know her," Hajan told the room. "Maybe it's better that way," spoke a voice from the corner behind him. Hajan did not turn at Rhiescu's voice. "I thought that was my lesson, Lieutenant." "It's been a tough twelve hours--time enough to learn one lesson." "Wish it didn't have to be that one. I really do." Hajan moved to the transparisteel wall that separated them from the hangar. "It seems I've become rather jaded by this job... I hope you're not joining me on that course." Silence. A hand touched his right arm, gently turning him around. Rhiescu gazed up at Hajan. "The war was won here, Captain. May- be you can start winning yours here as well." "How does it look?" "Damn sloppy, man." "I'm out of practice." Tyris, standing atop a ten-meter lift, surveyed the giant stylized kalidor freshly-painted on the Rhiescu's Y-wing, a unit insignia that they had not flown in its full glory for nearly twenty years. "It's beautiful, people. Let it fly." Maricica and Giana Rhiescu stood on the darkened observation deck of the _Moon Rising_, the meters of patched-on armor that reinforced the transparisteel viewports retracted for the first time in years. Outside, Rebel fighters soared, releasing giant explosive rounds again--of fireworks. The giant flashes and str- eaks of fire inspired memories of the battle just won, but now meant celebration, in all of its glorious forms. An ad hoc band played somewhere nearby, the sound briefly intensifying as Hajan helped Zveta Tavish (in a leg brace) through the hatch, followed by Vdren and Cermak. Rhiescu smiled and pointed. Outside, a giant golden bird led the formation, and an A-wing barrel rolled through it. Far from the celebrations, Skye sat on a beach watching starlight shimmer off Endor's ocean. Cupped in her hands was her Intruders insignia patch, and beneath it was Beldrin's message. *I remain to preserve their memory.* Skye pocketed the chip and walked to the water, wading in up to her hips. The patch was soft in her hand. "Goodbye, friends." She placed the insignia on the water and watched it drift away. "I won't forget you." *And I'm not finished yet.*