Title: Beginnings

Author: Stephen Tosh

Disclaimer: None of the ships or the fab four belong to me, much as I may wish. They’re all the property of Mr Lucas. Eraldu, Krist Tomper, Retal Tektar and Lattol are mine however, so hands off. The rest of the Ready Roomers are the property of themselves I suppose. God only knows I don’t want them.

Author’s note: This is set about halfway between Hand of Thrawn and Vector Prime (roughly). Anything that just doesn’t seem right to you is in there because I like it, so there.

The Ready Roomers

First Flight

Grand Admiral Red (GAR) (One)

Jenique Loran (Jeni) (Two) From Lorrd

Iliana Sartosi (Ili) (Three)

Natallia Narshel (Nat) (Four)

Second Flight

Captain Rachel Janson (Rach) (Five) From Tanaab

Charlotte Hood (Six) From Ibuala

Tarris Vaal (Seven) Of the Mrrshan

Hosho (Eight)

Hooligan Flight

Captain Stephen Tosh (Stosh) (Hooligan One) From Commenor

Derek (Hooligan Two) From Bakura

Magellan (Mags) (Hooligan Three)

Beginnings

"How should I know?" retorted Wes. "You’re the high ranking one now. Maybe they just thought it would be good to actually send an active pilot along on a mission to a group of mercenaries? You know, someone who can still remember which way to point the sharp end of the ship."

"I’m not that out of practice," moaned Wedge, "I do have a job to do you know. Some of us don’t go gallivanting off to hunt pirates whenever we feel like it."

"Alright, alright, just because you’re jealous. So what are we doing out here anyway?"

"We’re going to talk to a group of mercenaries who sprang up out this way a little while back. They seem all right, escorting convoys, the usual thing. They do have a high success rate and some hot pilots though. We have to ascertain whether they pose a threat to the Republic or anyone else. Should be a nice break really."

"I’ve heard that before. So where do we find them?"

"It would appear they find us." Said Wedge as an A-wing and a TIE Interceptor rose up on either side of them. The two ships pulled out in front and waggled their wings in salute before dropping into a guide formation. A female voice crackled over the radio.

"Admiral Wedge Antilles, I presume?"

"Antilles here." Wedge answered leaning forward to take a look at the ships. Both seemed in good order. "I take it you’re here to guide us down."

"Of course. Just follow us and you’ll be fine."

Wedge shut off the comm as Wes followed the fighters along a valley and over a large field that they circled. As they did so Wedge saw a medium sized freighter and a handful of snubfighters scattered around. The voice crackled over the comm again.

"Put down next to the freighter. We’ve got work to do. See you later hopefully."

"Yes. Later." Said Wedge as Janson swung the shuttle around to land and the two fighters shot off over a small hill. He sat back in his chair as the shuttle landed with a light bump. "Seem friendly enough." he said.

"Yup. Looks like a reception committee." Janson nodded at a lone figure emerging from under the freighter as he shut down the engines.

"Well, come on then." Said Wedge as he stood and adjusted his flight suit. Habit made him check his blaster was in its holster. He grimaced, then noticed Wes doing the same.

"Can’t be too careful." Said the older man with a grin.

As the two descended the shuttle’s ramp Wedge appraised the man in front of him. He was young, in his mid-twenties perhaps, tall and well built. He wore a standard jump suit, died a dark, almost black, shade of purple, had brown hair that sat in an unruly mop and confident blue eyes that flashed as he introduced himself with a salute.

"Welcome to the Ready Room, Admiral, General." He extended a hand and the men shook. "Everyone else is busy right now so you’ve got me as your guide. I’m Stephen Tosh, but everyone calls me Stosh."

"You’re Hooligan One, right?" said Wedge. "I thought you were in charge here?"

The man laughed. "I come up with the occasional plan and I do lead the Hooligans, but GAR is very much in charge. That’s Grand Admiral Red. Never a real rank obviously, but it does help bring in the customers."

Wes was looking around the landing field. Bays were marked off with numbers next to them. The freighter itself was parked in a large square with Phoenix painted in front of it. He glanced up. "So what does a group like this need with a freighter?"

"Supply runs, salvage, rescues, you name it, the Phoenix has done it at least once. She’s pretty good in a fight too. I’d show you round the inside, but Ili is away and she has the command codes. Come on, I’ll show you the base instead."

As they walked across the grass and earth towards a doorway built into the hillside, they passed the row of boxes set aside for the fighters. Only three were occupied, an X-wing in the box marked "Four," a B-wing parked rather haphazardly where Hooligan Three was supposed to be and in the box marked Hooligan One…

"That’s a wishbone!" exclaimed Wes. "You still fly one of them?"

"I do. I just love them. They’re so solid and stable. Besides, look a bit closer." He said with a sly grin.

Both Wes and Wedge peered closely at the old Y-wing. The ship was in excellent condition, then Wes spotted something. "Wait. This aerial isn’t meant to be here. It’s meant to be over there." He waved a hand to indicate where he thought it should be. It was there. "Have you got two communications arrays on this thing or something?"

"No, just the one. The other aerial is part of a jamming system I salvaged from a crashed A-wing. I’ve spent years upgrading this thing. Its got a custom made network of manoeuvring jets all round, upgraded weapons, hyperdrive, sensors and a rapid-recharge shielding system from a TIE defender." Stosh was obviously proud of his work. "But even better. Look at this." He was walking to the rear of the ship.

"Are those what I think they are?" asked Wedge, impressed.

"Indeed they are. Two Novaldex J-79 Event Horizon Plus engines." The engines were an evolution of the powerplants used by the A-wing fighter and offered almost double the power of the original J-77 engines. Wedge decided they would probably give the Y-wing the speed to outrun most fighters out there today.

"Are all the fighters here this highly modified?" he asked

"No way. We probably couldn’t afford it even if we wanted to. They all have their little surprises though. Besides, this things an absolute bitch to maintain." He smiled ruefully. "Come on, we’ll go inside. Anyone hungry?"

The inside of the base was every bit as impressive as the fighters lined up outside. Wedge and Wes had noticed extra manoeuvring jets on the B-wing and new shield projectors and power generators on the X-wing. If that was indicative of the fighters in their service the "Ready Roomers," as they called themselves, were in pretty good shape and ready to handle anything up to a full military assault on their position. The young guide led them into the first of the rooms after the doorway.

"Just a scanning cell of course. Can’t be too careful."

Wedge wondered how recently the "scanning cell" had been added. The group had not received visitors as a matter of course, preferring to do their business in local cantinas and such like.

"OK." Said their guide, smiling as he consulted a datapad. "You both have your blasters of course, we’ll let you keep them, and nothing else. I’m impressed. I was sure New Republic intelligence would try to send some recording device in with you. They made a rather cack-handed attempt to get an operative in here a couple of months back, but we caught them out."

"How?" asked Wedge. He sensed there was a lot more to this operation than met the eye.

"A couple of us are ex-New Rep and went through the standard intel briefing. Don’t worry yourself, a few of us are ex imp too."

Something in his voice caught at Wedge. "You’re ex-imp?"

"Yes I am." Admitted Stosh carefully. "It’s not something I like to admit, or even remember, but they gave me my training and my chance in a fighter. Thanks to them I discovered my skills and when I saw the call for people to join this merry band I thought I might as well give it a try and deserted. I’ve been here ever since."

"Do you ever regret it?" asked Wes.

"Hell, no," said Stosh "I’m happy here. I’ve got a ship you could pilot through a sun and back and a bunch of friends you couldn’t even realistically hope for. Besides, I came to see the evil the Empire stood for and I’ve vowed to put a stop to anyone I see ever coming near that level again."

They had passed through the scan room and several corridors now as Stosh led them into a middle sized room with chairs arrayed facing a holo-projector. "Our briefing room. Probably a lot less than you’re used to but its home to us. We meet here at around ten local time every morning and go over whatever happens to be up. Follow me. I’ll show you where everything really happens."

He led them into a large room full of tables with chairs clustered around them. "I like to think of this as the heart of the Ready Room. It’s where we come too play on base, it’s where we eat and drink and it’s where we wait to be scrambled. Everyone is in here almost all the time usually."

"Except when you’re out working, I assume." Said Wedge. "At least that’s what our escort said they were doing."

Stosh laughed. "No, they’re not working today. They’ll be down at the Lazy Twi’lek. It’s kind of our adopted tap-caf. A good place, quite lively. We always go down there the day after a job. GAR made me stay today to greet you. Said it’d do me good. I don’t have a clue what she meant."

At that moment Jeni Loran was walking into the Lazy Twi’lek, Charlotte Hood in tow, both heading for the booth the rest of the squadron had commandeered at the rear of the tap-cafs main room. Ili was leading the group in a raucous rendition of one of their many drinking songs as Jeni signalled for GAR’s attention. GAR gave up her seat to Charlotte, who picked up Rachel Janson’s glass of Zhar-rum and downed it in one go before joining the singers. The red headed woman turned to Jeni.

"They’re here then?" she asked as Jeni signalled Tatra, the bartender.

"Arrived on time. Charlotte and I saw them down and came straight here. No doubt Stosh is showing them round all ready." She sighed happily as a cold Elba beer appeared in front of her.

GAR accepted a glass of Whyren’s reserve from Tatra and turned to Jeni. "And of course you object to them being there at all."

"I’m just not sure its such a good idea letting them nose around the base. But you’re the boss."

"Indeed I am. But I respect your viewpoint. We could have just met them in a cantina or something but inviting them to our base of operations shows trust. We’ll need that trust to stop them shutting us down." She sipped her drink. "If we can pick up some contracts escorting New Rep convoys it’ll be good, steady money. How many of our current customers can you say that for?"

"I know the arguments," Jeni said after a long pull on her bottle, "But I just think getting to close to any big government is dangerous. You remember what happened on Dintar and that was just you, Ili, Nat and I."

"I know. But Antilles is a good man by all reports. He’ll be fair." GAR glanced across at the table and grinned. "Come on. Let’s join the fun."

She walked across to the table and sat down. As Jeni watched her friend retreat, she couldn’t help but think that something had to go wrong.

Stosh was finishing up the tour. He’d shown the guests round the med facility, the repair bays and the sim rooms and they were heading for the living quarters. "I’m sorry, but we’re a bit pressed for space right now. You’ll have to bunk with me and the other guys if you want to stay up here. We can get you rooms in town if you’d rather that."

"That’s OK," said Wedge with a half smile, "we used to live in lot worse than this. I think we’ll manage."

"Good. Well here’s home." He turned a corner and walked through an open door into a large barrack room with four sets of bunks. Five of the beds had nametags stuck to their ends. At the end of the room was a door, presumably leading to the refresher station, and a few desks were scattered around. One had a pile of papers on it. "The accounts for Hooligan flight" explained Stosh. "If I’d known how much paper work command involved I’d never have taken the job."

"It does get like that." Agreed Wes, as he sprang up to the top bunk. "Go get my bags, slave."

Stosh laughed and Wedge smiled up at him. "I think we forget who’s the Admiral here, Mr Janson."

Wes smiled. "OK, OK, I’m going." He clambered down off the bunk.

"Just a minute, I’ll get you some help." Stosh leaned across to the base intercom. "Mags? Mags, you lazy thing, get down to the front door and help General Janson."

"Alright," came the voice from the intercom, "I’ll be there in a minute."

Stosh turned to Wes. "Can you remember the way?"

"Yup. I’ll be back soon." He walked from the room.

Stosh sat down at his desk as Wedge tested his bunk. "So, why are you out here, Admiral?"

"Please, call me Wedge. We were sent to evaluate whether or not you pose a threat to anyone and to try to figure out the size of your operation."

"A threat?" Stosh was surprised and it showed. "We’re not even at full squadron strength, who are we supposed to threaten?

"It was little more than a squadron took down Coruscant."

"Good point." The young man thought for a moment. "We’re not here to threaten anyone Wedge. We’re just trying to make a living doing something we do well. I’m sure you understand that. As for the size of our operation, this is it. GAR likes to keep things streamlined so we run everything pretty tightly. I’m a fully qualified ship mechanic, as is Ili. Mags and Jeni both have medical training and everyone else has extra skills that help out on occasion."

"You run all this with only eleven staff?"

"Well, we hire in help if we need it but we’re pretty much self-sufficient. Helps to keep the overheads down."

As he finished a burst of laughter echoed down the corridor leading to the room. Wedge could not mistake Wes Janson’s merry chuckle. It was something he had heard many times before. He glanced across at Stosh. The younger man was grimacing as he glanced towards the door. "What’s up?" asked Wedge

"Mags is, shall we say, something of a special case. He’s a fantastic pilot, but…"

"Troublemaker?"

"No, not in the least. Just a bit different from your average pilot."

The door to the bunkroom opened wide and Wes stepped through, his expression merry, a duffel bag tossed easily over one shoulder. Following him was another man dressed only in a shirt and a pair of shorts. Wedge reckoned him to be perhaps two or three years older than Stosh.

"Here we go, sir." The newcomer said, dumping his burden onto the bunk next to Wedge.

"Admiral Antilles, might I present to you Magellan, also known as Hooligan three." Stosh was watching with an amused grin.

Wedge shook hands with the man. "Please call me Mags. Everyone else does. Except the people who call me the sadistic fool. Wow, I’ve met two real life heroes in one day. Wait till I tell everyone." With that he turned and made for the door, but walked straight into a patch of wall instead. "Moved the door again have you?" He seemed to be addressing the wall itself. He sidestepped and made off up the corridor.

Wedge sat on the bunk and shook his head. "Did that really just happen?"

"That’s our Mags." Stosh was grinning broadly. "I’d imagine he’s dressed so lightly because Nat is skinning him at Sabaac in the intel vault."

Wes’s ears pricked up at the mention of Saabs. "Do you think they’d like another player?"

"You could check. I’m sure they won’t mind. Third door of the second corridor on the left. Be sure to knock. Nat doesn’t always appreciate visitors."

Wes scampered out the room and Wedge worried that perhaps he thought he had found a partner in crime. "Will he be OK?"

"Yeah, Nat and Mags will be gentle with him I’m sure. Mags just claims that his brain works better in the cold so he steadily loses clothing to cool down when he’s losing. I’ve seen stranger habits."

"Not many though, I’ll bet." Wedge was genuinely amused. "So what do you have planned for our visit?"

Stosh leaned back in his chair. "Nothing specifically. You’re more than welcome to participate in exercises in the sim room. General Janson looked as if he might want to try out my fighter, which he can of course. Apart from that you have pretty much unlimited passage to look around. We just ask that you don’t go near intel without permission."

"That’s more than I would have asked for. Thank you."

"Well, if you don’t mind I’ve had a long day preparing for this and I had a longer mission the day before so I think I’m going to turn in. You can head down to intel and join the game or wander round if you want."

"No, I think I’ll just bed down too. Long flight." It had been too. He had only picked up Wes for the last four-hour jump of a long sequence and he was weary to the bone.

Wedge rose early, a holdover from the days when Syal and Myri had been younger, and headed for the refresher. After a long soak to ease the travel stiffness he lay on his bunk reading the intelligence briefing on this group. He had been there perhaps three-quarters of an hour when an alarm went off in the quarters. Stosh groaned, rolled off his bunk and began the obviously long and thankless process of getting the others up and running. He was first into the communal refresher and first out. As he pulled on a clean jump suit he turned to Wedge. "We’ll get breakfast in the main hall then GAR will probably want to talk to you before the daily briefing."

They trooped down to the mess hall, which was empty and a young man who had introduced himself as Tarris Vaal laughed. "Surprise, surprise, we beat the girls again."

They accepted breakfast from a C-23 catering droid and sat at a long table with just over a dozen chairs drawn up to it. Wedge listened to the pilots banter circle the table. They were in good spirits, although all but the older pilot, who’s flight suit proclaimed him simply to be Derek, were obviously suffering the after effects of a night in the Lazy Twi’lek. Wes too had bags beneath his eyes. "Long night?"

"Not too bad. Their intel officer is one hot sabacc player though. Better than Hobbie if I’m any judge."

Wedge chuckled to himself. Intel officers, in his experience, often made good card players. In all the time he had known Iella he could count the number of times he had beaten her at Sabacc on the fingers of one hand. It had cost him dear on occasion too. He smiled to himself as the mess hall door opened.

A woman of average height, but marked out by a blaze of red hair made up into a tight braid, entered followed by several others. They got their own trays and sat down around the free chairs at the table, the red head taking the chair at the head of the table. Wes pointed towards the bottom of the table and asked the woman opposite him, "Why the empty chairs?"

The woman smiled. "Rachel and Charlotte didn’t quite feel up to breakfast this morning. They were a full hour later home than the rest of them. Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?"

Wes chuckled merrily. "Of course. My appetite overcomes my manners. Wedge Antilles meet Natallia Narshel, the roomers intel officer."

Wedge looked the young woman over as he shook her hand. She wore a blue jumpsuit with blood stripes on the legs and arms, was about the same height as him, had brown hair held in a loose ponytail and intelligent blue eyes. "So you’re the sabacc queen?"

She looked amused. "The very same. I wonder if I might get a chance to take some money off the great Wedge Antilles at some point."

"I’m sure we can arrange that." Wes interrupted before Wedge could speak.

Breakfast passed and Wedge began to get a feel for the group as a whole. They were in fine spirits, unsurprising as they had not been beaten or even lost a member in a good few months, and in general seemed confident in their abilities, although for most that could simply have been the cockiness of youth. Indeed, Wedge had been surprised to see that Stosh was the second oldest pilot in the squadron. Both he and Derek were older than their commander, the red head known as GAR, but both seemed at ease with her and neither seemed to doubt her.

As he stood up to clear his tray, she came across the room. "Wedge Antilles, I’m Grand Admiral Red." She extended her hand.

Wedge shook it and grinned. "I was sure Thrawn was the last Grand Admiral."

She smiled. "Well, it’s mainly for publicity reasons, but this lot seem amused by it. We’ve got a few minutes before today’s briefing. Why don’t we go to my office and have a chat."

Wedge glanced around. The rest of the group was eagerly interrogating Wes Janson, especially Derek, who seemed to be looking for common battlegrounds. Wedge was sure Wes would entertain as they finished up the last of the mornings Caf. He nodded to the woman in the bright scarlet flight suit. "OK. Lets go."

GAR led the way down a corridor to a door next to the sim-room. Inside was a desk scattered with some paper and datacards. There were also holo’s of fighters and people scattered around. Wedge was struck with the similarity of the room to his own office, but realized many others would probably be struck by the similarity of their own office to his. He reminded himself that just because this group wasn’t military that didn’t mean they weren’t organised. GAR sat in a chair behind the desk and waved him to sit. "So Admiral what brings you out here? Really?"

"Call me Wedge, please. We’ve just been sent out here to appraise your group. Make sure you’re not posing a threat to anyone. I told Stosh this last night."

"Yes. I was supposed to talk to him this morning but I overslept. Sorry. We ended up carrying Mr Vaal home. He’s our most recent recruit and not quite up to the pace of the others yet."

"I see. I remember a similar experience on Hobbie’s first night out as a Rogue."

"Yes. I thought General Klivian was to be your aide on this trip. Where is he?"

"Still on Coruscant thanks to some dodgy Sullustan Chet’tall. I had to call Wes in from the Sixth fleet to take his place. Is that a problem?"

"No. I was just looking forward to meeting him that’s all. So is there anything you want to ask me that you didn’t ask Stosh?"

"Actually there are a few things. Firstly everyone here seems very young. I realise that could be because I’m not so young nowadays, but I think there’s a bit more to it than that."

"Probably. We’re mostly between 20 and 22 or so except for Stosh who’s 26 and Derek who’s closer to 30. I suppose we are young. I’m only 22, but it’s no worse than a lot of people. We’re better than most actually."

"So we’ve noticed. Isn’t it difficult leading the older ones though? Stosh has a flight so surely he’s got some leadership qualities somewhere."

"Stosh is a fantastic pilot, even outside that fancy ship of his, and he’s proven he can lead as well. He does, however, have a slight tendency to go a bit off the rails at times. He likes to drink far too much and when things begin to go wrong he can get very aggressive. Sometimes that can help, especially when you’re in a dirty furball and you’re outnumbered. I’ve seen him shoot down four clutches on his own in less than a minute before blasting a path for the rest of us to get to hyperspace. But he’s not totally reliable. I think he realises that so he’s happy to be led rather than take the ultimate responsibility."

Wedge thought about that. He could remember pilots under his command in the past that had had the same type of problems. Runt Ekwesh had been hopeless in the opening sections of fighter training until Kell Tainer had figured out ways to control his aggression. Elscol Loro had also had problems controlling her feelings in combat and Wedge had been forced to drum her out of the squadron to make her realise she had a problem. "What about Derek?"

GAR smiled widely. "Derek’s our ‘ancient warrior.’ He’s been fighting for a long time. He was on the imp’s side at Bakura, but he disagreed with the decision to turn on you in the last battle. Because of that he was in prison when it all went down. He was able to escape in the confusion and he’s been flying and fighting for anyone who’ll pay him since then. He’s a good pilot, nothing spectacular like some of them, but he’s got a lot of experience the rest don’t. He can be useful when we’re planning as well. He knows almost everything there is to know about starfighters and capital ships. If there’s a weak spot we can exploit he can find it."

"Useful talent. Is this really the whole of your crew?"

"Basically. We’ve all got talents that we can put to use besides flying. Tarris got some diplomatic training in a former life, Hosho was a bounty hunter for a while and Rachel and Charlotte both spent time as smugglers so they know how to beg, borrow, bribe and steal. We also have good relations with a few folk around here who help out when they can. We do alright usually."

"I’ll say. How have you built up such an impressive record?"

"It all comes down to training really. Jeni, Nat, Ili and I have been together for about three years now. At first we were just silly teenagers playing at fighting, but we soon figured out how serious things were. We were forced to relocate just under a year ago and we decided to expand at the same time. We picked up the others then mostly. Rach, Char and Hosho hated me at first because I kept them in training for ages. Stosh and Derek understood why it was needed though. The simple fact is, when you give a recruit their first victory they feel ten feet tall, but they’ve got to be good enough to get that victory. Then you give them another. And another. Pretty soon they start to think they’re invincible. Soon after that they realise its not that they’re invincible just that they’re very, very good. That’s how I worked with them anyway and it got good results. I gave Rachel the flight because she certainly has leadership potential and she’s damn smart with it. I kept Stosh as a floater, an idiot card if you will, but eventually we got both Mags and Tarris. I took Derek from the second flight and made the Hooligans. That wasn’t what I called them, obviously, but what they decided they were called. I was going to put Derek in charge but he didn’t want it and told me to give Stosh a chance. I did and since then they’ve given a good accounting of themselves. Pirates these days have some very impressive ships and the Hooligans give us a bit of punch against them. First and Second handle the fighters and the Hoolgans kill or drive off the big ships. They’ve taken out a couple of Corvettes, a Nebulon-B and a Marauder Corvette. They’ve even driven off an Impstar in sim, although they did have some help in that one."

A metallic voice announced the daily briefing from the speaker on the wall. "I give out the work assignments and things at the daily brief." GAR said. "Come along, you’ll get a look at the business end of things."

Wedge followed GAR to the briefing room they had seen the day before. He looked for Wes but the older man was sitting between Nat and Mags. The three were obviously kindred spirits and Wedge could only feel sympathy for whoever was the subject of their plans. He also remembered it could quite easily be him. As he sat down next to Stosh and Jeni he saw two new faces sitting in a corner which had the lights turned off. Both were young and female. The blonde one was sitting straight up in her chair breathing shallowly, almost as if she was trying to avoid moving at all, whilst the darker haired was curled into a ball on her chair and looked as if she was asleep. "The two who didn’t make breakfast?"

Stosh grinned widely. "Yup. The blonde’s Charlotte and the brunette’s Rachel. Never seen them this bad before. They always take pride in not getting hangovers. Looks like the hangover fairy got his own back this time."

"What about you? Ever wake up and miss briefings?"

The younger man grimaced. "Oh, hangovers are certainly not new to me. But its one of GARs standing orders that no-one misses the morning briefing, so I rigged it so that you can turn the lights off in that corner. Very useful."

They turned to the front as GAR spoke. "Morning boys, girls and exalted guests." She smiled. "Not much on today, so this shouldn’t take too long. We’ve got a couple of freighters want protection out to join a convoy on the Correlian trade routes. Just a one wing job really. Rach and Charlotte were supposed to be doing it," The two women groaned, "But I don’t think they’re quite up to it really, so Tarris and Hosho can take that one. Meet them in orbit and then it’s a three and a half-hour jump out. You can come straight back though. Shouldn’t be more then a five hour flight."

"Derek, Nat, Ili seen as how you were so eager to get to Lazy’s last night, you’re shuttling all the fighter’s back." The three were obviously not impressed with such a boring task, but didn’t argue.

"Mags, Jeni you’re both with me. We’re going to meet a potential client, so best behaviour please. Stosh, you’ll continue to liase with our guests and offer them every courtesy. That’s it for today folks. Dismiss."

Rachel and Charlotte both bolted for the door, but were stopped by GAR’s voice. "You two can do something about tidying this place up a bit. Especially the girl’s locker room and intel." She glanced across at Nat. "I don’t know what was going on in there, but you’ve got your work cut out for you." The two groaned and walked out, arguing over who’s idea it had been to get into a drinking contest with a pair of handsome swoopies from down the road.

As the pilots with real work to do gathered around GAR Wes joined Wedge and Stosh in the corridor. "Anything you want to do?" Stosh asked.

"I want to try that Y-wing." Wes said firmly.

"OK, what about you Wedge? Fancy a flying lesson?"

Wedge smiled. "The confidence of youth. I’ll come. But what do we fly?"

"Allow me." Stosh smiled and opened the door to the girl's locker room. Rachel and Charlotte were lying on their bunks trying to keep breathing to a minimum. The room was also rather untidy, implying they hadn’t started their days work yet. "Rachel," Stosh said softly, "Can we borrow your ships. And we need Gallico as well."

"OK," replied Rachel, almost inaudible, "Just stop shouting."

Stosh grinned as he slammed the door behind him. "They’re gonna kill me for that. If they remember when they’ve recovered. Well gentlemen, shall we?"

While they waited for the other ships to be ferried back to the base, Stosh gave Wedge and Wes a walk around tour of his ship and a basic pre-flight briefing. It was a simple enough trip out to a gunnery range set up on the dark side of Eraldu’s moon. "Nothing special but it’ll help give you a feel for the fighters."

As they walked round the big Y-wing Wedge ignored the conversation Stosh and Wes were having and examined more closely the grey ship with its pattern of purple highlights. It was obviously as good as the combined talents of Stosh and Ili could make it. Beneath the cockpit was printed:

STEPHEN "STOSH" TOSH

HOOLIGAN ONE

Underneath that, in delicate purple tracery, was inscribed the word "Shae’cara." Wedge turned to the two men, who were discussing the problem of cooling the fighter’s big engines. "Why is she called Shae’cara?"

"Just a girl I knew. She’s not the prettiest of ships so I thought she deserved a pretty name."

"Twi’lek?" asked Wes.

"No, human. Eminently so. Her father spent a few years as a trader on Ryloth though"

Wedge sensed that Stosh didn’t really want to talk about it further and was saved the problem of changing the subject when Stosh’s comlink beeped. "Your ships are almost here. Better wait over there until they land. As the three took shelter under the Phoenix three specks appeared on the horizon. They grew larger steadily until Wedge could make out the TIE Interceptor and the A-wing with the blue flashes that had escorted them in the day before along with an X-wing with a rather esoteric red and gold Krayt Dragon colour scheme.

The three ships landed in the appropriate spaces and Ili, Nat and Derek climbed out. They greeted the three before heading for an airspeeder to retrieve the remaining fighters that were still parked behind the tapcaf. Stosh led Wedge towards the extravagantly coloured X-wing as Wes made his own way across to Shae’cara. "You can have Rachel’s ship as it’ll be most familiar to you. You better watch out though. She up-rated the engines and the manoeuvring systems so its probably a bit more responsive than your used to. Oh, and watch out for Gallico, the R2 unit. He’s getting a bit cantankerous in his old age."

The droid Wedge could now see clearly behind the cockpit whistled at Stosh in obvious shock and insult. "Of course, I really meant to say experience there." He grinned. "You’ll be OK?"

"I’ve handled plenty of different ships and some very bad tempered droids. I’ll be fine." Wedge assured him as he clambered up to the cockpit. Stosh jogged to the next bay where the interceptor was parked.

A couple of minutes later his voice crackled across the ship’s radio. "Alright. Everyone ready to go?"

"Wes is up and running." There was an electronic cackle from behind him. "Should I be worried about that?"

"Probably not. Sithspit just doesn’t like people being in ‘his’ ship. Of course, what he did to actually make it I’ll never know."

A burst of electronic noise over the radio showed Sithspit’s opinion of that. Wes asked, "What made you call him Sithspit?"

"First thing I ever had need to say around him. He has a habit of infuriating people. You good to go yet Wedge?"

"Just about. There are a few things that don’t come into any checklist I know. Gallico’s giving me a quick crash course." There was a brief pause. "Up and running now."

"OK, take them up and fall in behind me."

Both Stosh and Wedge rose smoothly on their repulsorlifts and started heading skywards as they kicked in the main drives. Wes on the other hand leaped into the air and shot off across the landscape like a bantha with a Krayt Dragon in close pursuit. "Are you OK, General?" Wedge asked, trying to hide his amusement.

Wes replied breathlessly. "This is the best ship I’ve ever flown Wedge. She’s responsive and manoeuvrable like a Defender but faster and a lot more stable. We have to build some." It was obvious Wes was quite taken with Shae’cara’s capabilities. He demonstrated his happiness by flying rings round the two other ships and then shooting off ahead.

"Wes, if you’d like to join up on us, I know where we’re going and you don’t." Stosh voice too was filled with amusement but it was touched with pride also.

"Coming, coming." Wes put the ship through another set of moves before slowing and dropping into formation.

Stosh glanced at the unfamiliar set up in the Interceptor before deciding where they were headed. "Onwards and upwards then." He stood the fighter on its tail and blasted up and out of the atmosphere.

Tarris Vaal checked that the freighter he was flying towards matched the one his sensors were telling him to find and was relieved to see it was. It was, after all, only his fourth mission as a fully-fledged ‘Roomer.’ "Looks like we found our baby Hosho." He said to his wingman. Tarris was flying lead on this mission as GAR wanted him to get some command experience, however small, under his belt.

"Look like it. Do you want to do the honours?" His wingman sounded vaguely bored, but why not? This was a very routine run that might pay expenses for a week or so. Very little danger involved. Hopefully, Tarris corrected himself.

"Misty Morning, this is Tarris Vaal of the Ready Room Escort Service. Are you ready to head out?"

"Ready when you are Mr Vaal." The male voice, presumably the freighter’s captain, sounded slightly dull and uninterested. Can’t really blame him I suppose.

"Let’s get on with it then."

As the freighter nosed around and headed for deep space the Captain’s voice crackled across the radio again. "Are you a new face Mr Vaal?"

"Yes I am Captain. I’m sure you know Hosho though."

"We’ve met. A rare fight we got into too, didn’t we Mr Hosho?"

"It was a big one at that." Hosho at last sounded animated. "Two squadrons and a couple of transports against nine of us and a couple of freighters. They learned those odds weren’t good to them anyway."

The Captain laughed. "Indeed they did. Whatever happened to that charming young lady who so nicely picked that X-Tie off my bridge?"

"Charlotte was supposed to be flying this mission, but she’s ill." Hosho stressed the last word just enough that the Captain caught his inference.

"A good last night then?" He chuckled again and Tarris found himself warming to the invisible man, even though he had not taken any part in the conversation. "Well, I’ll send you the jump co-ordinates and we can get on with it. You’re just taking me out to join a bigger convoy on the Correlian trade spine?"

Tarris answered. "That’s what we’re contracted for."

"And a pretty penny it’s costing me, I’ll tell you. Still, I’m not hauling anything too valuable so we should be safe enough. And you do pay for the best."

Tarris’s astromech beeped at him, indicating they had arrived at the jump point. At which point everything went straight to pieces.

A Dreadnought, old but still in good condition, flashed into existence in front of the trio of smaller ships. Tarris’s astromech immediately identified it as the Tektar’s Tyrant. Tarris sucked in his breath. Retal Tektar was a somewhat notorious pirate, but he generally operated out closer to Varonat and Bespin where the convoys of precious blaster gases were easily taken. The Dreadnought disgorged a full squadron of fighters. "OK," Tarris said, trying to keep his voice calm. "OK…"

"Orders." Hosho said harshly, trying to snap his friend into action. He would take command in seconds if Tarris remained frozen.

Tarris realised what had to be done. "Misty Morning, turn and head for the planet. We’ll slow these guys down."

"Two of you against a Dreadnought?" The Captain’s voice was incredulous, but still betrayed worry.

"Yeah, two of us against a Dreadnought?" Hosho fully believed his commander had lost his wits.

"No, just the fighters. The Morning can outrun the Dreadnought on its own." He was ploughing on towards the cloud of uglies while the freighter headed for the safety of the planet.

"Sounds like a plan." Hosho said. "What do we do if the Dreadnought turns on us?"

"We jump out of here. Do you think I’m crazy?" Tarris was meanwhile assessing the enemy fighters. Most were X-Ties or Die-wings, but there was a sole Headhunter and a couple of clutches in the mix. He selected one of the clutches as his target and instructed Hosho to take the other. As he brought up his torpedo-targeting program he switched the radio over to the Roomers emergency frequency.

"This is Roomer Seven and Eight. We have engaged a superior number of uglies with capital ship support. Anyone on this frequency is welcome to offer assistance. Please." He cut off the transmission as he launched his torpedo. The clutch shot off at an oblique angle. Ought to take care of him for a while at least. Even if the torp did not hit the pilot would have to waste time evading it. The other clutch exploded as a concussion missile from Hosho’s TIE Advanced nailed it head on. Then they were into the middle of the whole milling, turning mess of enemy fighters.

Wedge, Wes and Stosh were skimming the moon, coming in for another pass at the gunnery range. Wedge had been impressed with the younger pilots skill, especially in a craft which was not his own. Wes, on the other hand, had spent almost the whole time raving about the Shae’cara’s targeting programs and weapons. Tarris Vaal’s voice crackled over the radios and they listened as he ran down his situation. Stosh swore.

"I’m going to help. I can’t order you to come, but you’re more than welcome. It sounds like they need the help." His voice was grim, but Wedge noticed an edge of excitement.

"Just try and stop us. I’ve needed a good fight for ages." Wes led Wedge in on the Interceptor’s wing. Because of the various modifications, Stosh actually had the slowest fighter and al three knew the arrival of three friendly fighters at once would be far more effective then if they were to arrive piecemeal and strung out.

"I calculate three minutes to intercept." Wedge said. There was an electronic screech. "OK, Gallico calculates three minutes to intercept." Stosh was pushing the Interceptor for all it was worth, drawing energy from all the systems he could to increase his speed.

He heard Stosh make a transmission. "Hooligan One is incoming with two friends. Three minutes out." The flash of lasers was now visible and all three men steered instinctively towards it.

A female voice crackled across the radio, squashing all other chatter. "Three and Four are inbound you’re position Seven. Six minutes out."

"How come we could hear that, but we didn’t know they were there?" Wes asked.

"Special chip in the Radios. We can hear everything on the emergency frequency over other frequencies. Very useful."

They flew on in silence, each thinking his own grim thoughts. Wedge found some amusement in the fact that he now faced death on a diplomatic mission for the second time. Wes was looking to forward to taking Shae’cara into combat. Stosh was wondering whether it had been prudent to put all his shield energy into the engines.

Then there was no time for thought, just time to bring up the torp and missile programs and twitch the boxes over enemy fighters that were swooping around the two friendly fighters. Only Wes managed a lock and a proton torpedo flew from his craft, catching the port wing of a Die-wing. He looped round in an effort to get in behind the remaining clutch. Stosh blew straight through the fight spraying quad lasers at any enemy foolish enough to cross his path and headed after the Dreadnought. The enemy pilots, assuming him to be suicidal left well alone.

Shaken as he was by that display, Wedge was still able to bring his borrowed snubfighter in behind the sole Headhunter. His finger tightened on the trigger and his quad blast impacted its shields at the same time as a perfect deflection shot from Hosho’s TIE. The shield’s were totally overwhelmed and the headhunter blew apart. "Help me out, Admiral?" Hosho’s voice sang out. Wedge glanced up and saw a surprisingly manoeuvrable X-Tie in behind Hosho. He shredded it and realised he was through the other side of the fight. As he turned he checked his sensors. The arrival of the small flight had been devastating and only five, no, four, Janson finally nailing the clutch, enemy blips were still on the screen. He was amazed at Stosh though. The young pilot was now skittering over the surface of the Dreadnought, unleashing quad bursts and concussion missiles at vulnerable areas. It was a tactic Wedge had used himself on occasion, but never in a shieldless Interceptor. Stosh came to the bow of the Dreadnought and looped round, beginning a run on the big ship’s underside.

A flash on his forward shields brought him back to the moment and he reacted quickly enough to score a glancing blow on a Die-wing in front of him. The damaged ugly raced out of the fight towards the Dreadnought and was joined by its sole remaining compatriot, an X-TIE. Wedge came around and saw the fight had not been without cost. Tarris Vaal’s X-wing was trailing a long line of fire from one engine and Hosho’s top left solar wing array was missing. "Are you two OK?" he radioed.

"All the better for seeing you." Came the reply from Tarris. "Just let me shut down this engine and we’ll be good to go."

"We’re not finished?" Wedge had though the fight done.

"That Dreadnought isn’t going to just go away, Admiral." Hosho voice carried some rebuke.

"Right," the flames from the rear of Tarris’s X-wing had died. "Let’s get to it." He sounded mortally tired.

The remaining two uglies had both been vaped by well timed missile shots from Nat and Ili in their own X-wings and they now joined the small formation. "Forget about us?"

"Sorry Ili, been kinda busy. Everyone target the engines."

"Wait a minute." Called Stosh. "I’m over here too you know."

"You bloody well shouldn’t be." Tarris’s voice was angry. "What were you doing?"

"Disabling their comms among other things. You never know."

"Well get back here now."

"No. I outrank you. You do your thing and I’ll stay here." "Here" was tucked up right next to the hull, shooting at everything as he shot back and forth.

"Alright," said Tarris, resignedly, "we’ll just have to leave him to his own devices. I’m transmitting targeting data now. Fire on my mark." A slight pause. "Mark."

It was said in a soft enough voice but the hell it unleashed on the Dreadnought was untold. "Among other things" had apparently included the Dreadnoughts shield generators. The torps and missiles impact on the weakened shields was devastating. Of the ten fired, seven impacted the skin of the warship. They drilled through the engineering decks vaporising bulkheads and tipping reactors off carefully aligned stands. Half of the Dreadnoughts running lights snapped off immediately. The big ship turned toward deep space and miraculously jumped to hyperspace seconds before a second volley that would undoubtedly have ripped it to pieces. Left rolling and spinning in an uncoordinated pattern behind it was a TIE Interceptor.

"WOOHOO!!!" The war whoop was Stosh. "Did you see that?"

"Yes we all saw it. Most impressive." Ili spoke gently but firmly. "Come on Stosh. Time to go home."

That evening a celebration was held in the Ready Room base. Their newest recruit had been placed in an impossible situation and had acquitted himself wonderfully. The lomin ale and Whyren’s Reserve flowed freely as Tarris was acclaimed a true Roomer in every sense. Wedge and Wes got involved in a spirited game of Sabacc with Nat, Ili, Mags and Rachel as everyone else gathered round the gaming table to watch GAR take on Derek. Rachel noticed one large presence was missing. Stosh had disappeared after Tarris had been given the traditional beer bath and no one seemed to know where he was. Rachel had been sure she knew but it was only towards the end of a hand that the answer had presented itself in her mind. She stood at the end of the hand. "Where are you off to?" A slightly slurring Ili asked.

"Yeah, there’s still a big pot to be won!" Wes sounded disappointed.

"I need some air. I’ll see you later." Rachel turned and left the room. She wandered down the corridors to the front door and into the night. She checked her blaster was secure in its holster and set off around the hill the Roomers’ base was built into. Roughly a third of the way round its circumference she turned off the track and followed a narrow path up the side of a small gully with a stream in it.

She heard the waterfall before she saw it. At the place where the water emerged and the spring became a stream was fairly deep pool just below a rock face. It was into this pool that the spring ran and created a small waterfall. Next to the pool was a small grove of trees. Sitting in the grove with a half-empty bottle of Whyren’s next to him and an empty one behind him was Stosh. She walked forward and sat down next to him. "I thought I might find you here."

Stosh grunted. Rachel persevered. "Do you remember how you found this place?"

Another grunt, vaguely affirmative. "It was about three weeks into training. I wanted to leave because I thought GAR hated me. I was sitting up here trying to decide what to do. You came and found me, using a scanner, which I still think was cheating by the way, and talked me out of it. Told me how Derek was talking Charlotte, Mags and Hosho out of leaving. Pointed out that GAR was only picking on me cos I had the most potential. It helped a lot. Now we’re here again a year later." She waited.

"She wants to take my flight away." At last an opening.

"GAR?"

"Who else? Says I’m too irresponsible. Says I shouldn’t have taken Wes and Wedge into that fight. Says I shouldn’t have done what I did with the Dreadnought. Says I can’t be trusted." The words were flooding out now. "I saved them. With out Wedge and Wes, Tarris and Hosho would be so much space junk. Me too probably, if I’d gone on my own. I had no shields on the interceptor. I had to get in close to the Dreadnought. I was dead otherwise."

"Didn’t you tell her that?"

"’Course. Didn’t listen though. Doesn’t care. Just want’s rid of me. Wants Derek to get the flight. My flight." Stosh was talking with the firmness of the profound drunk.

"Derek doesn’t want it." Rachel said gently.

"Tarris then. Everyone’s blue eyed boy he is. Wouldn’t be if I hadn’t been there to save him."

"You don’t mean that." This brought a harsh laugh from the hunched figure.

"Bloody New Rep General had my Shae’cara too. What if he’d lost her? Where would I be now? What if someone else gets her when GAR drums me out? You’ll look after her for me, won’t you?" His voice was desperate, pleading.

"Who was Shae’cara, Stosh?" Rachel asked softly. In the year the crew had been together Stosh had never confided in anyone Shae’cara’s real position in his life.

The wait for an answer was long. Rachel was about to repeat herself when Stosh whispered, "Fiancé."

This rocked Rachel. "You were engaged?"

A slow, drunken nod. "Three years. Met her when I was fifteen. Moved to our neighbourhood. I never believed in love at first sight." He took a long pull from the bottle. "She waited for me when I left for the academy. Came back after two years. Asked her. We set date for after my last tour. Empire couldn’t leave it alone though. Said her family was corrupted from too much time on Ryloth. Started to destroy her father’s business. Subtly, but I knew. I couldn’t tell her though. She’d have hated me."

"What happened?"

Stosh’s shoulders heaved and Rachel realised he was crying freely. "Her father couldn’t take it. He snapped…" Rachel stayed silent while Stosh collected himself. His voice was stronger when he spoke again "Three weeks before the wedding, two before I got home, he took a blaster and killed her. Killed them all."

Tears came unbidden to Rachel’s eyes. She suddenly saw why this young man fought with such passion. He wanted to die, but his natural instinct and ability kept him alive. "Stosh, I’m so sorry…" The words didn’t seem enough, couldn’t possibly be enough.

"Doesn’t matter. Gone now." Stosh downed the remainder of the bottle. Amazingly it stayed where it was put. "Can’t fight for her if I’m not here."

"Stosh, you don’t fight for her, you fight to die."

"Same thing. When I’m dead I’ll be with her. Don’t know anything else."

"Do you think she wants you to die?"

"What else could she want? My fault..."

"No it wasn’t. It was someone in the Empire..."

Stosh interrupted her. "I was in the Empire."

"You weren’t the one who declared them corrupt." She said the word with distaste. "You left because of what they did." The words sounded small, but Stosh’s head lifted slightly.

"Should have stopped it."

"How could you? You were what? A lieutenant?"

"Captain."

"Captain then. What could you do against all that intelligence power?"

"Kill them. Kill them all."

Although the words were said with conviction Rachel could tell Stosh did not seriously believe them. "No," she said softly, "you were helpless. That’s why you fight like you do. You try to save everyone because you couldn’t save her."

Stosh was almost upright. "That bad?"

"No that’s not bad. It’s very good. But you shouldn’t be trying to kill yourself. You know she doesn’t want that."

"S’pose."

"You know." She stood up. "How do you feel now?"

"Drunk."

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Is that better?"

"Yep."

"Are you coming back?"

"S’pose."

He stood. Just. He tried to walk toward the path made it two steps and fell over. Rachel sighed.

"Stand up Stosh." He stood. "You’re drunk. You can’t make it home. Unless I do this. You’ll forgive me." She pushed him in the pool.

Stosh surfaced with much spluttering and panting. "Feel better?"

"Yes. Thank you. You forgot something though."

"What’s that?"

"I’m the unarmed combat expert about here." Although still not steady on his feet Stosh slipped an arm under Rachel’s, gripped her belt and tossed her into the pool.

She surfaced. "I hate you, you know that."

Stosh grinned. It was uncertain, but more genuine than Rachel had seen on him in recent weeks. "I know."

He helped her out of the pool and together they worked their way down the path to the base. Although they walked in silence it was companionable and Stosh even started whistling at one point. He stopped and looked troubled for a moment. "I feel lighter."

"It’s just the booze. Wait and see how you feel tomorrow."

"Thank you Rachel."

"No problem"

"You missed the party though."

"I was about to lose half my money. It gave me an excuse to leave."

They had arrived at the base. Stosh swayed slightly on his feet. "I think I’m going to bed."

Rachel smiled. "Good idea. See you tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

Stosh was not present at breakfast the next morning. Derek caught up with GAR and told her that Stosh was sleeping off a massive hangover. He had said he would be at the morning briefing however. Rachel then cornered GAR in her office and went over her conversation with Stosh from the night before. She told her commander that she hated to break Stosh’s confidence, but she thought it important that GAR should know.

After Rachel left GAR sat in thought. She had been furious with Stosh for risking the lives of the two New Republic envoys, but she had been forced to admit to herself during the night that he had probably done the right thing. She was still not impressed with the manner in which he disregarded good sense and orders from the pilot in charge of the fight, Tarris Vaal, but she could see that he had been flying under massive emotional stress for a long time now. He had been a time bomb. Now she needed to see if Rachel had been successful in defusing the problem.

She knew that Rachel and Stosh had become good friends in their time flying together. Was there something more there GAR had missed? She thought not. Stosh would hardly be in any shape to go falling in love all over again and Rachel had been concentrating on running her flight for a while now. Still, if anyone had been able to help Stosh it would be Rachel. While Stosh was close with the other male pilots it was hardly an emotional, empathic bond. Definitely more of a male bonding thing.

What to do now though? A lot depended on whether Stosh was at the morning briefing. She knew that was perhaps a little silly, but it showed a lot of discipline for people to drag themselves up for it. So…If he was there he would get another chance. If he weren’t, he’d have to work damn hard for one.

As she walked into the room just behind the last of the other pilots she glanced at Stosh’s usual corner. He was there. She was surprised at how good this made her feel. She put it down to the fact that it was quite a show of loyalty from someone who had been quite ready to murder her after their debrief yesterday. She moved to the front of the room and flicked a switch she had had Ili install next to the holo-projector. The lights in Stosh’s corner blazed on showing a very haggard and ill man. Everyone except Stosh laughed.

"Alright people," she began, "No jobs on today, but we’re going to be pretty busy cleaning up after yesterdays little fight. Ili, you’ll have to get started on the repairs to Tarris and Hosho’s fighters pretty quickly. We can’t afford to go under-strength for long. Tarris, you and Hosho will help her." The trio nodded. With Stosh obviously out of service for the day it was not a surprising task.

"Supply run day today. Rachel, Charlotte, borrow the Phoenix and go get what we need. I’ve got the list here." She held up a data card. "Wait a half hour and see if you can dig up the parts Ili’ll need to repair the fighters. You’ll know by then?" She glanced up at Ili.

"Should do boss."

"Right. Nat, you seem to have become fast friends with General Janson, you can take over Stosh’s liaison job for the day. But no Sabacc this time." Nat had successfully taken all Wedge and Wes’s money over the past couple of days. "Get Derek and Mags to help you if you want them."

The group rose to leave, all except Stosh. "Yes, Mr Tosh?"

Stosh stood and walked up to the front of the room. "I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour in the debrief yesterday."

GAR sized up the older pilot in front of her. He was taking responsibility for his actions. She liked that. "Accepted. I was talking to Rachel this morning." Stosh made a face. "You have an interview with me at two this afternoon. Be there."

The hours until his appointment with GAR dragged on and on for Stosh. He tried killing time every way he knew but it just wasn’t happening. He tried to get Nat to let him in on a sim exercise she was running for Wedge and Wes but after a couple of minutes it was obvious he just wasn’t up to it in his state. He left in disgust, mainly with himself. He tried to busy himself by catching up on his paperwork, but the numbers kept dancing across the screen of his datapad in a most disconcerting manner. Eventually it was time.

He walked up to GAR’s door at precisely two minutes to two. He was trying very hard not to be overly military about the whole thing, but the only time he had ever felt this way was when his chief instructor had called him up when he was still in training. That had been to present him with his bars as training squad leader, but he hadn’t known that in advance and had been so nervous he hadn’t eaten or slept in the day between the message and the appointment. He steeled himself and sounded the door buzzer.

"Come in." called the voice from behind the door. GAR looked up from whatever she was doing. "Ah, Mr Tosh. Sit down. Would you like a drink?" She indicated a bottle of Abrax Cognac in the corner

This was rewarded by the sight of Stosh turning slightly green. She smiled. "Maybe not then. So," she put down her datapad, "why do you think you’re here?"

Stosh gave her a small and very sheepish smile. "My performance over the last few weeks has hardly been satisfactory. I’ve thrown my flight and myself against some rather silly odds and I’ve taken actions that could have jeopardised the visit of the New Republic envoys." Another grin, this time definitely self mocking. "Not the most impressive record. I imagine I’m going to either be drummed out totally or given the one last chance speech."

GAR was again impressed with the new-found composure Stosh was displaying. "Originally it was going to be the one last chance speech, but since talking to Rachel and seeing that you actually did turn up for the briefing this morning, I’ve modified it slightly." Stosh looked very relieved at this, but Gar wasn’t about to let him off the hook. "Be very clear. Screw up like that again and you’re out on your ass. But I’m willing to give you a chance and see if you really have changed. You’ll keep the Hooligans but I’ll be watching you very closely. Also Jeni and Rach both move above you in the overall chain of command. Any time your not flying or training I expect to see you doing something productive. And that does not include tinkering with your Y-wing. I know it’s important to you, now more than ever, but everyone else’s ships could benefit from some of your expertise too. I’ll let you know when you can relax again." She smiled. "Believe it or not Mr Tosh, I don’t want to lose you. You’re a very useful person to have around. So don’t screw up. Dismissed."

Outside the door Stosh checked his watch. One minute past two. She doesn’t waste any time, he though as he wandered off to find "something productive" to do.

The remainder of the week flew in. Stosh spent time in the sims and out at the gunnery range. He flew a simple escort mission with the Hooligans and Second flight that was total boredom. A few Headhunters jumped out of hyperspace nearby but left as soon as Rachel pointed Second flight at them. It had felt somewhat strange taking orders from Rachel, but the Roomers had always had a fairly loose chain of command anyway, so he adapted quickly. He saw Wedge and Wes mostly at mealtimes and in the bunkroom, Nat having effectively taken over his old duties, although he did get a chance to fly against them once in the sim. It proved an enlightening experience. Stosh considered himself a hot pilot, and with Jeni Loran on his wing he was confident they could give a good accounting of themselves. In the end they were both shot down a half dozen times in exchange for having killed Wes once.

At the end of the week they were all gathered waiting in the briefing room. It was Wedge and Wes’s last day with them and one of the flights was going to be tasked with the honour of escorting them to their jump point. Stosh was sure it would not be the Hooligan’s, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Mags and Derek. So he sat in his darkened corner and waited for the bad news.

GAR walked in, followed by Rachel. Stosh raised his eyebrows. If anyone came into a briefing with GAR it was usually Jeni in her unofficial function of Executive Officer. Rachel went and took her usual seat, but gave him a wink before she turned back to GAR.

"Alright," GAR began, "we say goodbye to our New Republic friends today. It has been enlightening having them here and they have even managed to win over some detractors they had before their visit." Jeni Loran went bright pink at this. "Admiral Antilles, would you like to say anything?"

Wedge stood. "Just that we’ve enjoyed ourselves a lot. Wes found a woman who can bear to be in the same room as him for more than two minutes," he inclined his head towards Nat, "And we learned a lot about how the best of these groups work. I think I might be able to persuade some of my seniors that you’re not all vagabonds and cut-throats, maybe even push some business this way." He sat down, to appreciative whistles and cheers.

GAR took centre stage again. "OK. Today is technically a rest day, but if you want it Hooligan flight are to escort the two New Republic gentlemen away from the base."

Derek and Mags both stood up and cheered. They sat down abruptly, leading Stosh to decide they had rehearsed the moment endlessly. He was heartened. Obviously, GAR had decided he could be trusted again. He made a mental note to thank Rachel for whatever she had said on his behalf, especially since Second flight could lay claim to most of the more illustrious achievements of late. Then GAR’s words came back to him. Don’t screw up. He hoped fervently that he wouldn’t.

As the shuttle broke through Eraldu’s upper atmosphere Wes keyed the comm. "Finished your detentions then, Mr Tosh?"

"It would appear so. How did you get the knack of GAR’s voice so quickly? I’ve been trying for months!"

"Yeah, but you didn’t get to practice Wedge at his most pompous before."

"What do you mean by that?" said Wedge, his voice slicing across the comm channel.

"I just remember a little speech at a little out of the way planet called Adumar."

"I wasn’t being pompous in the slightest."

"You just keep telling yourself that. Hey what’s that?"

A freighter had dropped out of hyperspace in front of them slicing across their jump path. Stosh’s sensors said it was calling itself Foggy Afternoon. "I don’t remember any freighters operating out this way called foggy anything. This is a bit weird. Mags, Derek, close up, I’m going to check it out." He was remembering the attack on the Misty Morning.

Stosh pushed Shae’cara up to her maximum standard speed as he watched his two flight-mates collapse into a closer escort formation with the shuttle. He was intending to make a quick pass and check the freighter over before rejoining. As he drew in closer and let his sensors scan the bigger ship he noticed an odd detail. The ship’s running lights were fully functional, but its interior lights were turned off. He slammed his control column around, directing Shae’cara away from the freighter.

Just in time. The freighter glowed strangely behind him for a second before exploding. It was an efficient trap that would have worked to perfection, had it not been for Shae’cara’s reinforced shields. Stosh was buffeted mightily as he sped away, but the damage to the ship was negligible apart from weakened shields.

"You OK, One?" Derek, suddenly all business.

"I’m fine Two. Just a bit singed. They’ll have to do better than that to get rid of me and Shae’cara."

He knew as soon as he said it they were in for more trouble. He was proved right as a massive shape flickered across his heads up display. He swore loudly and at length. All he heard over the comm was "Amen to that." as a blue ion bolt washed over Shae’cara killing all her systems and taking him out of the battle before it started.

Wes Janson immediately swung the shuttle away from the Dreadnought. He could see signs of hasty repairs near her stern and didn’t need the sensor’s to tell him it was the Tektar’s Tyrant. He set the shuttle dancing as Wedge powered up the shields and lasers. He also heard Derek speak rapidly over the emergency frequency.

"Home base, this is Hooligan Two. We’ve been jumped by the Tektar’s Tyrant. Hooligan One is disabled. Get help out here fast."

Jeni Loran’s voice answered. "Scrambling now. Two, Four, Five and Six incoming. ETA 16 minutes."

Derek grunted. "Looks like we’re on our own for a while folks."

Wes knew how bad the situation was. True the Dreadnought was old and slow and the two B-wings could probably drive it off, but it also had fighters and, while both B-wings had had extensive upgrades, they couldn’t really stand up to those in great numbers. The turbolaser and ion blasts began to wash around the shuttle, one ion blast coming so close that a panel sparked and stung Wes’s cheek. "Looks bad boss."

"We’ve been in worse." Said Wedge.

"At least we were in our X-wings then. This thing won’t be much use in a fight."

"Helps coming. We’ve just got to hold on."

"Do you really think we can?" He gestured at the sensor display. "That’s three squadrons of fighters behind us now. I think its time for plan B."

"No way." Said Wedge. "We do this together or we don’t do it at all."

Wes decided it was time to take a stand. "Look Wedge, in about 20 seconds those fighters are going to be onto us. After that the Dreadnought will join in. I know it can’t target fighters that well, but this isn’t a fighter by any stretch of the imagination. Get down to the escape pod or I’ll knock you out and carry you."

"No. I’m not leaving you."

"We’ve been in this position before. You’re a lot more important than I am. Get out of here and we’ll cover for you."

Wedge was about to argue further until Wes said softly, "Think of Syal and Myri."

"I’m sorry Wes." was all Wedge could think to say.

"Not as sorry as you will be if you don’t move yourself."

Wedge ran through the shuttle to a small hatch in the rear. He opened it, dived through headfirst and hit the door close. He then felt a massive kick as he was propelled away from the shuttle. Useless in the fight now he set course for somewhere he knew he could be useful.

"Alright, Wedge is in that escape pod. I can’t ask you to stay, but I’m going to buy him some time." Wes half-expected Mags and Derek to laugh at him but instead they both swung around and followed him silently. Wes could see the Nova flare decoration on Derek’s ship and the polka dot pattern on Mags’. Then they were in the fight and he lost sight of both.

He rolled and spun, using every move he knew and a few he made up on the spot, but the bulky shuttle was no match even for the uglies harassing him. He caught a couple with his lasers, but they were steadily wearing down his shields. It wasn’t until an X-TIE ran a head to head with him that he noticed something strange. "Derek, Mags, are they using anything other than ion cannon on me?"

Derek’s voice came through clearly. "No. They’re not being as delicate with me and Mags though."

At that moment the Tyrant waded into the fight. Ion bolts flashed around the shuttle and Wes knew the game was up. Sure enough, a scrape with one tore down his shields and restricted his manoeuvring and seconds later he was caught by another. The shuttle went dark. He pulled out his personal comlink, thankfully unaffected by the ion wash of the bolts.

"Mags? Derek?"

Mags came through, scratchy but readable. "What?" His voice was strained.

"I’m disabled. Get out of here. No need you two dying when they only seem to want me."

"Can’t. GAR’ll kill us if we leave."

"Mags, go. You can’t do any good."

Mags’ only reply was a reluctant "Roger."

Wes watched as the two B-wings disengaged and headed for home. Mags was covered with score marks and Derek was missing a weapon pod. Then he settled in and waited as the Dreadnought came closer and fixed him with a tractor beam.

Stosh sat in his cockpit and watched as Wes was tractored into the fore hanger bay of the Dreadnought. He was being dragged into the aft hanger near engineering. He only hoped no one would know it was he who had made it possible for the others to wreak such havoc on the ship.

Sithspit was inoperable as they were pulled the last few hundred metres. Try as he might Stosh could not help but think I wonder if this constitutes a screw up.

In the cockpit of her X-wing Rachel Janson’s hands hammered against her console, causing Gallico to shriek as he received a dozen different commands at once. Frustration got the better of her as she sat only three minutes from where her friend was being pulled into the belly of an enemy. A friend she had decided could be so much more.

PART 2

Though she did not know it, Rachel Janson looked every inch a warrior as she strode confidently towards the main thoroughfare of Eraldu’s spaceport. She was not especially tall or powerfully built, but she moved with a fluid grace and her trim body spoke of hidden strength. More than anything else, she exuded the self-belief of a person who has taken their life in their own hands and survived. She knew her abilities and had confidence in them.

She found the shop she was looking for and walked through the door. The shopkeeper was haggling with an Ishori over the price of some irrigation device, so she hung back and pretended to be examining an old set of ranging sights for a blaster pistol. Eventually the Ishori paid what was probably well over the odds for the parts and left. Rachel approached the counter as the ugly old Toydarian flicked through his new credits. "Hello, Lattol."

The Toydarian’s face betrayed utter dread for a fraction of a second, but he covered it admirably. "Captain Janson, what can I do for you? Haven’t seen you around here in a long time."

"No, you haven’t." Rachel knew this had to be played just right. This old cheat wouldn’t give her anything if she slipped up. She picked up a heavy blaster pistol that was lying near the desk. "I somehow doubt you can do anything for me either, but I thought I’d check anyway, as I was in the area and all."

"Anything I can do I will, you know that." The answer came quickly. Lattol wanted this over. No wonder.

"I hear you’ve been taking in some stolen goods Lattol. From a pirate of all things." She thumbed the blaster on. "Care to enlighten?" She rested the blaster on the table, not quite pointing at the small alien.

"Stolen? Me? Would I do that?" The Toydarian was trying very hard, too hard. He was bobbing back and forth in the air. Rachel suspected most of the stock behind the counter was stolen from someone.

"Yes you would. We both know that." She said with a most uncaring air. "Now, tell me all about Retal Tektar."

Rachel didn’t know that a Toydarian could go pale. "Not him. I’d never deal with him. He’d kill me if I told anyone."

"I have it on very good authority that you’re doing just that." She reached out suddenly and grabbed the front of the Toydarian’s tunic, slamming him onto the tabletop. His head was level with the blaster. "Now why don’t you tell Auntie Rachel? You’ll feel better afterwards. Better than if you don’t anyway."

"No way." His nose grinding against the desk muffled Lattol’s voice. "You don’t what he’ll do to me."

Rachel held him up at eye level. "I know what I’ll do to you." She threw him through a display case then picked him up again, pressing the cold muzzle of the blaster against his skin where the loose, ill-fitting tunic failed to provide cover. "Now talk."

Lattol’s voice was slow at first. "I’ve never met him. Never even seen his base. I just meet a freighter out in deep space buy my stuff and head out. I know its Tektar’s gang. You always do a little digging when you’re setting up these deals. I wasn’t going to dig to far with him though."

"Give me the co-ordinates."

Lattol ran off a string of numbers. Rachel smiled. It was not a kind smile. "Thank you Lattol. I see you’ve started growing a brain since we last met." She fired a shot into the fire control system on the wall before pumping three more into something that looked sufficiently flammable. "I’ll keep the blaster thanks. Good bye."

Rachel let out a long slow breath as she left the shop. The fire service droids would be here before the small shop burnt down and Lattol was smart enough not to divulge the identity of his "mystery" arsonist. She didn’t really enjoy dealing with scum like the Toydarian, but it was eminently necessary if she was ever to see Stosh again. Her chest tightened as she thought of her friend in the hands of a man like Tektar. Was friend the right word? It would have to do for now. She walked across to the café in which sat Charlotte Hood. The blonde woman glanced up.

"How’d it go?"

"Well enough. We’ve got a starting point anyway. How’d you find out Lattol was buying off Tektar?"

"Remember Jimmy Ratnal? You always thought he was a bit of a second rate spy, but he usually knows enough to be useful. Especially if you ask the right way."

"Is it worrying that we know these people so well?" asked Rachel as she led Charlotte back to their snubighters.

"Not really. Life used to depend on it. So what now boss?"

"We check this out." Charlotte shoulders slumped. It had been a long day. "I know, I know, but the mood GAR’s in right now I’d like to go back with some serious evidence."

It was a fair goal. The young leader had been beside herself when the other pilots had landed. Her rage had only lessened slightly when Wedge Antilles crashed his escape pod into the Ready Room landing field. She had cancelled all the scheduled missions and now the Roomers were expending every resource they could into finding Tektar and preparing a plan to bring him down. Antilles had approached the New Republic for help, opining that, as Wes was a decorated war hero it shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade the military command to help. He had been wrong and had spent most of the last week butting his head against a duracrete wall. He had since resorted to contacting anyone he could think of with a reason to help Wes. The list had actually been quite long.

They reached the bay their ships were stowed in and started their pre-flight procedures. "So where are we going?" asked Charlotte.

"Transmitting co-ordinates now."

"This is the middle of nowhere." Answered Charlotte a couple of seconds later.

"Yup. I think that’s the idea."

Wedge Antilles slumped into a seat in the Ready Room and sipped his caf. It was a long job calling all of Wes’ friends. GAR appeared opposite him, looking equally haggard. "Well?" she demanded.

Wedge glanced up wearily. He was too tired to protest her tone. "Tycho will be here in two days, Hobbie a little after that. We’ve also got the use of Team One, a couple of capital ships, including Lusankya, and Rogue squadron if we need them. I wanted the Wraiths but they’re out on assignment right now." Team One was an elite commando unit. GAR was impressed.

"Aren’t they only supposed to do what they’re told?"

"Major Page says they all have plenty leave coming up and he’d be happy to help out. Says Wes still owes him from their last sabacc game. Same with the Rogues. I’m still not sure about spiriting a Capital ship away from the fleet but they’re there if you need them."

GAR’s face softened. "I can’t thank you enough Wedge. You could get in real trouble over this."

"Yes, but I’m not leaving Wes out there. Tycho and Hobbie feel the same."

GAR’s data pad beeped. She pulled it out and checked. "Message from Rachel. Her and Charlotte have a lead. They’re following it up now."

"Let’s hope there onto something. It’s been almost a week now."

Rachel sat in her X-wing as close to the co-ordinates Lattol had given her as she could without giving away her position to any ship that might jump in. Charlotte was at the opposite side of the area to give them maximum sensor coverage. For stealth reasons they had powered down and were using only visual sensors to monitor the traffic. It had been light until a small freighter had jumped in and was now sitting obviously waiting for a rendezvous. Rachel hoped this was the one. She had already been sitting in the cockpit for over four hours. She couldn’t talk to her wing mate for fear that the transmission might be recorded.

A larger freighter jumped in system and Rachel leaned forward to examine it more closely on her main screen. It was a large Correlian YT-5200 series. Rachel couldn’t make out its name and tried increasing the resolution on her sensor, sending silent thanks to Ili as she did so for her recent upgrade of everyone’s sensors. A name was painted just aft of the freighter’s centreline. Tektar’s Trader. Bingo. She watched, fatigue suddenly gone, as the two freighters linked. Rachel could imagine the transfer, indeed had made countless like it in her smuggling days, and almost exactly when she expected it, they split apart. The smaller freighter left first, but the Trader left on a different hyperspace vector than that which it came in on. Rachel powered up her ship.

"You get all that, Six?"

"The Tektar’s Trader? Very interesting. You see if you can’t work out where it came from and I’ll see where it’s going."

"Roger." Said Rachel, punching buttons on her console as Gallico worked the problem. A few minutes later an answer appeared on her screen. "I’ve got nothing useful. A couple of worlds in the Koornacht cluster and one in the Remnant, but that’s the other side of the galaxy."

"This is interesting," said Charlotte thoughtfully, "transmitting now."

"The Herrsatiss Nebula. Nice place for a pirate. No one can use sensors to find you. Let’s follow and see what’s up."

They linked up and set their fighters for the jump to hyperspace. Rachel set up the course to drop them out just before the nebula. They ran up to speed, Charlotte’s Interceptor jumping just before Rachel’s ship.

The jump to the Nebula took just over half an hour. Rachel dropped out and spotted Charlotte just ahead. "Well?" she called over the radio.

"The freighter headed into the nebula as I arrived. I’ve got its entry vector, but I really don’t think we should go in on our own. That Dreadnought could be just inside the cloud."

Rachel knew what her friend was saying made sense, but she had to know if they had found Tektar’s hideout. "We go in. Stay about two hundred metres behind me and get out if I tell you." She headed for the edges of the nebula’s gas cloud.

The two flew through the outer edges for a moment before the cloud grew denser. The view was spectacular as the different coloured gases met and melded. Occasionally two would meet in a violent chemical reaction causing a flash or explosion to one side. Charlotte radioed, "I don’t think this is entirely safe, boss."

"We go on." Rachel’s heart was in her mouth as she pressed further into the nebula. Suddenly a spectacular series of flashing reactions lit up the space in front of her, outlining the freighter and behind it the distinctive shape of Tektar’s Tyrant.

"Got you." Breathed Rachel. She hit her radio button. "Time to leave, Six."

"Already going." Said Charlotte.

Rachel turned and followed in her partner’s jetwash. She kept an eye on her rear sensors and occasionally caught fleeting glimpses of the pirate Dreadnought. She tried to send reassuring thoughts to Stosh, surely somewhere in its metal hull, but found that all that filled her was a desire for revenge on the man that had taken her friend from her. "I’ll be back for you." She whispered as she and Charlotte began the long, circuitous trip that would take them to the Ready Room base.

Stosh lay on his bunk deep in the Tyrant and tried to catalogue the body parts that didn’t hurt. It was a fairly short list. He made a mental note never to antagonise anyone who owned an Imperial surplus torture device again. His purple jump suit was torn to shreds and the "lucky" khaki T-shirt he usually wore beneath it was burned in several places. Hair was singed and he had a deep gash in his left thigh. All in all, he thought, this is not a good position.

He was amazed that he still had his sense of humour, but that and holding to memories of Shae’cara was all that was getting him through the endless interrogations. He knew that the pirates had dismantled Shae’cara the ship then re-assembled and test flown her. That violation was almost too much to bear. He was not sure if it was the physical or mental torture that was worse.

The door to his cell opened and he groaned as he tried to sit upright and face his visitor. Much to his surprise, kind hands steadied him and a familiar voice said, "Easy now, easy."

"Wes?" he croaked.

"Yeah, it’s me." Wes looked shocked to see the state Stosh was in. "Lords of the Sith, he said they’d tortured you, but this is terrible."

"You OK?" asked Stosh.

"I’m fine. Apparently I’m a proper prisoner of war so they’re looking after me well. Even given me my own stateroom. They say you’re just a mercenary though so you’ve got no protection. I’m sorry. I’d do something if I could."

For once Wes was totally serious. Even in his weakened state Stosh noticed. "How’d you get down here?"

"Seems we’ve got a friend. New Rep intelligence has an operative here. He’s keeping lookout right now. I’ve asked him to help you if he can. He was a lot more worried about me, as you can imagine."

It was a feeble jest, but Stosh managed a small smile anyway. "It’s good to see you. What’s his name?"

"He’s called Krist Tomper. At least that’s the name he’s using. Here take this. It’s a bacta salve I smuggled out my quarters."

"Thanks. Now get out of here. Tektar will kill us both if he finds you."

"I know. I’m sorry I can’t do more."

"It’s OK. This has really helped."

"Two things first though. I’ve sliced myself some low level computer access. Two fighters came out this way earlier. Tektar disregarded them when they turned and left as soon as they saw the ship, but it looked like Rach and Charlotte."

Stosh had a definite smile now. "Fantastic. The rest’ll be here soon then."

"One more thing. Tektar knows it was the Roomers who damaged the Tyrant and he’s kinda upset about it. He doesn’t know it was your fault the damage was so bad so he just wants the location of your base to pound it flat. Don’t tell him anything."

"I won’t. Now get lost. Go on, scat."

"Sorry I couldn’t do more." Said Wes backing from the room. Stosh saw a tall lean figure move away from the doorway to walk beside the General. Stosh tried to stay smiling, but it was hard. He really didn’t know how much more he could take. Hurry Rachel, he thought as footsteps came up the corridor and stopped outside his cell.

Rachel leaped from her cockpit and sprinted for the door to the base, Charlotte following at a slightly more sedate pace. She ran down corridors and into the ready room where GAR sat in quiet conversation with Wedge, Mags and Nat. "We’ve got him!" she shouted in triumph.

"Pardon, Captain Janson?" GAR’s voice carried a slight reproof.

"Tektar. We found him. He’s hiding out in the Hersatiss nebula. Come on, we’ve got to move fast on this one."

"Rachel, sit down. We need to plan this out better." Nat said quietly.

"What do you mean plan it? We know where he is, lets go get him."

GAR looked up. "Think about it Rach. We could take the snubbies and maybe destroy the Tyrant, maybe. But we can’t mount a serious rescue bid on our own. That needs a trained commando team. I’m sure we could probably brawl our way into the prison block, but how many of us would get killed? And how would we get there in the first place with no one to stop the uglies? Team One will be here in two days. We have to wait till then. We can start planning and simming now, but nothing more."

Rachel made a noise of disgust in her throat and stormed from the room almost knocking over Charlotte in the process. Her wingman made to follow, but GAR called her into the ready room. "Brief Nat on what you got, I’ll go after Rachel."

"No, I’ll go." To everyone’s surprise the voice was Wedge. "Trust me, I know how she feels." He rose and left leaving no room for argument. Charlotte sat down and started discussing the results of their reconnaissance mission with the others.

Wedge found Rachel in her dorm room throwing clothes in a hold all. She looked up and caught his eye. "She’s gone too far. There’s no way I’m leaving Stosh out there."

Wedge leaned against the door and watched as the young woman in front of him gathered up a blaster and a half dozen spare power packs. "So you’re going to go after him yourself then?"

"I owe him that and more. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. He’s saved my life and everyone else’s more than once."

"You can’t do it." Wedge kept his voice gentle.

"I can try."

"And what? End up sharing his cell, or worse?" He grabbed her arm as she moved to leave. "Why are you doing this Rachel?"

She looked down for a moment. Her eyes were tearful when she looked up again. "He doesn’t deserve it."

Wedge smiled sadly. "No-one deserves it, but it happens. Two of my best friends went to the Empire’s worst prison. They were both lucky enough to escape. Look, Wes is with him and he knows you’re bound to mount a rescue operation before long, yes?"

"Yes." Rachel conceded.

"He won’t have given up hope. I know you’ve known him forever in comparison to me, but I’m over twice your age now so you have to try to believe me. Stosh seems like a fairly resilient person. I’ll bet he’s sitting there trying to figure out some massive practical joke to play on you all after you rescue him."

"Maybe. I still hate the idea of him being there." Rachel’s voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "I think I love him."

That rocked Wedge back. "I see. Love can make you want to do crazy things." He hesitated for a moment. "Come on, sit down here."

Rachel sat on a bunk and Wedge in a chair facing her. "I’m going to tell you about one of the worst moments of my life. It was a fair few years ago, over a decade now that I come to think about it, but something I said to Stosh last week made me think of it. It was during our mission to take Coruscant. We were trying to cause a lightning storm of sufficient magnitude to bring down the power grid. We got the storm, but it didn’t seem powerful enough."

Rachel was nodding. "I heard the story from Derek and Stosh. One pilot took down the power grid didn’t he? Corran Horn?"

"More or less. He flew his Headhunter into the storm to take out a junction box. It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen. No one can tell you where or when lightning is going to strike, but Corran did it regardless. It was a little strange for me at the time, because I hadn’t known Corran for more than about six months, but we had become good friends. I’d tried to hold back at first, I didn’t want to get to close to someone who was probably going to die, but Corran is a man who commands respect and respect leads to friendship. Anyway, some Imperial forces took control of his Headhunter and captured him. I was about to run out of our command centre and take an airspeeder into the storm looking for him, but Tycho stopped me. He pointed out it was suicide and that Corran probably just ejected. We only found out later that he didn’t. I was furious with myself. I kept telling myself if I’d taken the speeder I could have helped him. I probably would have got myself killed, but I didn’t want to think that. I could only see how I’d failed Corran."

Wedge sighed. Obviously it was still a painful memory. "What I’m trying to say is that you’ll do a lot more good staying here and helping rescue Stosh than running off and getting killed. That would make seeing him again rather difficult."

Rachel looked down at the floor. "I’m kind of scared of seeing him again. I won’t know what to say and I don’t know what he’ll say back. I could let it lie and just be friends, but I know I don’t want that."

Wedge smiled. "Lucky in love is not something they’ll put on my gravestone. I came ludicrously close to losing the love of my life at one point. I find it best to just say it and get it over with."

Rachel was quiet for a moment. "I suppose so."

Wedge stood up. "Come on, we’ve got work to do."

The lights in Stosh’s cell were piercing in their intensity. The young pilot groaned as he started the long climb back to wakefulness. At the base he was always first up, rousing the others, but this was a living hell and his body didn’t to endure another moment of it. He heard the boots in the passageway and felt the fear welling up in him. The door shot open. "Come on," said a gruff voice, "Captain’s waiting."

Stosh was dragged off his bunk and dumped painfully on the floor. He struggled up to standing and was marched down the corridor by two prison guards. They stopped outside an all too familiar door. A guard opened it and shoved him through.

"Good morning Mr Tosh."

"I’m a Captain." A guard on his left delivered a hard punch to his ribs.

"You are a mercenary. A boy playing at war."

"I was a Captain in the Imperial navy. I demand the respect due my rank." A fist to the belly from the right, followed by a knee to the face from his other side.

"You are nothing." Retal Tektar sat behind a table, insulated from the violence wrought by his men. He was a big man, taller then Stosh, but not as broad. He was greying and ageing, but his face still held a cruel malice, which took every opportunity to show itself. "Now tell me, where did you come from?"

"Commenor. The northern uplands."

Another blow to the ribs. "Where is your base?"

"We’ve been here before. I won’t tell you."

"We’ll see." Tektar nodded at the pirates on either side of Stosh. The two men started to methodically beat Stosh from top to bottom. Stosh tried and failed to fly free and concentrate on anything else. This was getting worse by the day. Eventually Tektar ordered a halt. "You will tell me tomorrow. You will tell me tomorrow, or your precious fighter will go through the wrecker. Good day."

Stosh was hoisted between the two guards and carried to his room. He was unceremoniously thrown into his room and lay there for a time trying not to move too much. He eventually dragged himself over to his bed and started to figure out what was wrong. He catalogued the worst aches and pains. Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. Familiar from his days in Presfbelt IV’s martial arts team. He’d see to the shoulder in a minute. A serious pain in his leg, maybe a sprained ankle. Two broken fingers on his left hand. The rest of his body was simply a mass of more diffuse pain. Now about that shoulder…

He was asleep in two minutes the sharp pain reduced to a dull throb after he cracked his shoulder back into place. Sleep was an easy escape.

Stosh dreamt. He was back in the uplands walking the ridgeline behind his family’s farm. It had been a favourite walk of his, a way of escape during the weekends when he had been allowed to skip his duties. He turned at a favourite viewpoint over a lake and she was there. "Shae’cara." He breathed.

She was exactly as he remembered, tall and willowy, her long wavy brown-blonde hair flowing in the wind. She wore the simple purple dress she had been wearing when he had last seen her. He marvelled at the way the dark colour and highlights set off the curves of her body. "Stephen." She only called him that when she was serious. "It’s time to let go."

"No. I love you."

"Yes you do. But you can’t forever."

"I can."

"That’s what I always loved about you. So naïve sometimes. Will you tell Tektar tomorrow?"

"I have to save the ship."

"No you don’t. You can’t betray your friends."

"I can’t lose you again."

"Think about it Stephen. Imagine what they’ll think when you betray them." Stosh thought for a moment. Here, in his first home, he had never felt further from the rest of the ready roomers. But he found that deep down he knew he wouldn’t. The reason why shocked him more than he would have ever imagined.

"Rachel." He whispered. True, Derek, Mags, Tarris and the rest were friends, but with Rachel he felt something more. He knew he would never endanger her. Even as he realised it Shae’cara turned and started to walk away.

"Good bye ‘Cara." He shouted.

He woke up drenched in sweat, but more rested than he had been for years.

Nat knocked on the door of GAR’s office and stuck her head in. "Good news boss. Well, sort of. Tektar hit a tibanna gas convoy out of Bespin this morning. That gives us an extra day."

"Good. Get the word out. And tell Wedge I want to see him and Major Page as soon as the commandos get here."

"Jeni and Ili are bringing them in now. I’ll let them know."

GAR nodded and Nat left. The young leader sat in silent contemplation for a few moments before the door chime went. "Come." she called. Wedge Antilles walked in, accompanied by a man she did not recognise. He was tall and big built. His mop of blonde hair was shot through with grey but his steel blue eyes still held a look of solid determination. His face was beginning to show the lines and wrinkles of early middle age but retained a handsome cast. GAR took all this in as she rose to shake his hand. "The legendary Page I presume. Good to have you here."

The man smiled modestly. "I don’t know about legendary. I thought you had to be a pilot for that."

Wedge smiled. "Mr Page believes we’re constantly stealing his thunder. Something of a competition really."

"Just a little." Page smiled again. "So, what are we out here for?"

GAR brought up an image of the Tektar’s Tyrant in front of them. "General Janson and one of my pilots are being held prisoner on this ship. We’ve ascertained it’s a late model Rendili StarDrive Dreadnought that has undoubtedly been heavily modified. Derek seems to think it came from the Katana fleet and was halfway through an upgrade program when Grand Admiral Thrawn was assassinated. He also thinks Tektar picked it up in the confusion following. Basically, we need you to get on board, find and rescue the pair of them and get out again. We can handle the fighters and destroy the Dreadnought itself if it becomes necessary."

Page pursed his lips, thinking. "We haven’t done any training on Dreadnoughts in a long time. Not many of them still around. Still, I know where the prison block should be. We can do that."

It was Wedge’s turn to speak. "We do have a couple of problems. We got a holo from Wes yesterday. It was recorded at Tektar’s orders and erased itself as soon as it had finished playing. They’re not being held together. Wes isn’t even being treated as a prisoner, more as a guest. He got enough through to let us know that Stosh, the other pilot, is not in a good way. There’s also a New Rep intelligence operative on board. No information on him."

"Couldn’t you send a request to Intel for more information?" Page sounded concerned.

"We’re not supposed to be here, remember? Besides, I don’t have a comm system secure enough for that."

"We do," said Page, "but it’ll take forever for Intel to get back to us and I’m guessing we’re on a limited time scale."

Wedge smiled grimly. "Yup. We were supposed to go tonight, but Tektar has been out and about today, so we postponed till tomorrow."

"We can do a mission brief later today then. Where do we get onto the Dreadnought?" Wedge and GAR exchanged glances. "You did think to find an entry point didn’t you?"

"I guess that’s why you’re a commando and I’m just a pilot." said Wedge.

GAR leaned across to the intercom. "Derek, come along to my office would you?"

Derek arrived presently and was introduced to Page. "That’s the advantage of having an office next the canteen," said GAR, "they never seem to be far away. We need an entry point for the commandos Derek."

Derek stared at the holo of the ship for a moment. "I’m guessing it needs to be near the prison block and the staterooms." Page nodded. "Would you like quiet and secluded or nice and open?"

"Quiet, preferably but it’s not essential."

"You’ve got two choices then. The main midships-docking port just fore of the power core or the service hatch for the secondary sensor bay. That’s a fair way from the staterooms though."

"The service hatch, I think. Shouldn’t be anyone down there in a fight."

Derek glanced at GAR. "Think Ili can get the Phoenix in there? It’ll be a tight fit."

"How tight?" asked Wedge.

Derek thought for a moment. "About a metre either side using the Phoenix’s top aft hatch."

GAR glanced down. "She’ll need Nat’s help I think. There’s nothing those two can’t do with that ship. But that puts us down another pilot."

"We’ve got Hobbie and Tycho as well now. They came in with the commando’s."

"I forgot about them. Let’s see." She punched buttons on her data pad. "That gives us ten active pilots, eleven if you take Nat or Ili’s ship." She inclined her head at Wedge. "We can hold our own with that."

"Right." Said Wedge firmly. "Lets put this together and then brief the troops."

Stosh remained lying on his bunk as the footsteps stopped outside his door. He managed not to flinch as the door opened and light flooded the room and congratulated himself on this small victory. He turned to face the door but it was not filled with one of Tektar’s goons but by a person only familiar as a vague shape. "You’re Krist Tomper?"

"The very same." The young man smiled and moved to the bunk, helping Stosh to sit up. He had close-cropped brown hair and deep, caring brown eyes set in a strikingly handsome face. Not the type Stosh would have reckoned for a spy. Or a pirate come to think of it.

"What’s happening? We’ve jumped to hyperspace at least twice today."

"We hit a convoy out of Bespin. Tektar isn’t planning an interrogation for today. Wes thought it’d be a good chance to check on you, but he got sealed in his room when the shooting started. I said I’d do it instead. No one’ll miss me. So, how are you doing?"

"They broke some ribs. Apart from that I’m not too bad. If they don’t come for me today, I’ll be OK through tomorrow."

"That could be all we need. I got a message from my control yesterday. The whole of Team One left on leave to destinations unknown. Rumour has it they’re headed out here."

Stosh smiled. How did GAR work that? "That’s good to know. We headed back to the nebula?"

"Yeah. Tektar seems to believe that he’s perfectly safe there."

"We’ll see." smiled Stosh.

Rachel looked around the ready room as Mags and Derek lugged the holo-projector from the briefing room in. The mission brief had had to be held in the larger room as all of the commandos could not fit in the briefing room, especially with the pilots as well. GAR, Wedge and Page took their places at the front of the room and Rachel settled herself more comfortably to listen to the briefing.

Wedge was first to speak and as he began GAR brought up an image of the Tyrant. "This is your target people. We have to rescue two pilots held aboard and then destroy the ship if possible. This will be achieved in one of two ways. Either the commandos will find a way to trigger a self-destruct or some other explosion aboard or the pilots will give it a diet of torps until it chokes on them. I’ll hand it over to GAR for you pilots now."

GAR stepped up. "Wedge has been good enough to give me command of the snubfighter part of the operation while he retains overall command. Basically our job is to tie up Tektar’s force of uglies until the commandos can complete their mission. It’ll be hard work, but he must be beginning to run low as we’ve vaped over a dozen in our other meetings and I can’t imagine he comes through many missions without loss. That’s no reason to be lax though as the ones remaining will be the best pilots. There’s also a chance they could be using Shae’cara. If so, I don’t want to see anything fancy. I know she’s Stosh’s ship, but she’s also too dangerous for us to mess about with. So just take her out."

"Ili, you have to take the Phoenix and get the commandos aboard. I’d rather have you with us, but the Phoenix is faster, tougher and a lot more manoeuvrable than their own ship. You’ll have to get them to this docking port and Derek reckons you’ll have to use your top aft hatch. Can you do it alone?"

Ili studied the diagram intently before shaking her head. "Not with all the uglies about. Give me Nat and it shouldn’t be too hard though."

GAR made a face. "OK, you’ve got her. Luckily, we’ve been reinforced. Escorting the commandos in today were Generals Tycho Celchu and Hobbie Klivian." GAR indicated a pair sitting near the front, by Page’s Captain. "They’ve agreed to fly with us. That brings our effective strength to eleven fighters. Don’t use more than a couple of torps against the uglies either. We might need to save them for the Tyrant."

She stepped back and Page took the stage. He pressed a couple of buttons and a map overlaid itself on the Dreadnought. Two routes flashed, one purple, the other red. "Once Miss Sartosi has got us to the hatch we need to move fast. We can’t hang about or we’ll let them organise themselves. That’ll be fatal. We know that Captain Tosh is being held in the cell bay here," he pointed to the end of the purple line, "and that General Janson is in one of the staterooms." He indicated the end of the red line. "It’s going to be a case of fast in, blast everything in site, and fast as we can out again. We don’t know what condition Captain Tosh is in, but we need to account for the possibility he won’t be able to move quickly. Also, if we see a computer terminal we need to let Garret or Floyd have a go at it." He indicated two young men who looked most un-military. Rachel reckoned they must be the unit’s slicers.

"Right," said Page, "unit assignments. First squad with me, we’re going to the cellblock and picking up Captain Tosh. Captain Hammax will take squad two and go after General Janson. Understood?"

There was a general murmur of agreement from the room and Wedge stepped forward. "Any questions about anything? Ask now, cos we’ve got a lot of sim work to do."

Derek held up a hand. "Will Mags and I be mixing it with the fighters or working on the Tyrant?"

GAR stepped up. "You’ll be fighting with us. We’ll need all the help we can get." Derek nodded.

Rachel put up her hand. GAR nodded at her. "I want to go in with the commandos."

GAR hid a look of surprise quickly. "Why?"

"I just think there should be a friendly face there for Stosh."

"No, you’re far too valuable in your X-wing."

"Please GAR." Rachel was surprised by her own pleading tone.

GAR was about to answer when Wedge pulled her aside. The two exchanged words for a moment before GAR looked across at Page. "Think you can use her? She is pretty handy with a blaster."

"She’s welcome, but if she slows us down in the sims then I’m not taking her. Too much risk."

"Well?" asked GAR, looking to Rachel.

"Fair enough." She said. She knew it was the best she was going to get.

Just over a day later Rachel sat in the top gun port of the Phoenix looking at the surrounding hills. The ships sat nervously waiting for the final go order from Wedge. Rachel was still tired from the work of the day before. They had run three sims on different scenarios in six hours. She was proud that in three attempts she had always held her own in comparison to the commandos, even in a worst case scenario only seven of them had survived. Corporal Kystein, in the belly turret winked up at her. She smiled back and faked a yawn. Kystein smiled and nodded.

Ili’s voice cut through the tension in the hold. "Just got the order folks. Time to strap in." Rachel reached for her belt and got it fastened with a struggle. She was still not used to the bulky body armour the commandos used. She had a blaster rifle secured next to her seat and the pistol taken from Lattol strapped to her right thigh. She was as ready as she reckoned she could be for this little adventure.

On the flight deck Ili turned to Nat. "Lets get moving then." As Nat eased in the repulsor lifts she turned to Page and Hammax behind her. "The best thing about a co-pilot is that you never have to do the hard work, just the fun stuff."

Hammax smiled but the look turned quickly to dread as the freighter lurched to the left. "Just seeing if you were paying attention boss." Said Nat evenly. Ili cuffed her around the head.

"Stop messing with my ship." She turned back to the controls and the two pilots took the ship up in the wake of the mixed group of fighters in front. The group came together and the fighters arrayed themselves around the freighter for the first of three jumps to their destination. GAR’s voice sounded confident on the radio.

"All ships jump on my mark." A slight pause.

"Mark."

Charlotte Hood was flying on Wedge’s wing. She couldn’t believe her luck and had almost fainted when GAR had told her she’d be flying with Wedge because Rachel had pulled out. Now, as they came out of hyperspace near the Hersatiss nebula her heart sank. There was a protective line of fighters standing guard outside the only easy flight path into the nebula. Tektar could be gone by the time they got there.

"Lead, what do we do?" Ili spoke quickly.

GAR answered. "Red Leader, take your flight and engage them, we’ll blow on past and you can catch up later."

"Roger. On me Reds." Wedge, in Rach’s ship again, accelerated ahead, closely followed by Tycho and Hobbie in their X-wings. "You coming Six?"

Charlotte suddenly realised he meant her. "Affirmative lead." She punched her engines up to full, feeling herself blush. Imagine falling asleep like that! She’d never live it down.

The flight accelerated ahead of the main group, Wedge speaking calmly as they did so. "Right, one torp each then we start mixing it up. OK? Remember we’re trying to get rid of them quickly."

Charlotte bracketed a particularly lively X-TIE with her sights and waited for the computer to announce a lock. She held it for a second or so until Wedge said "Fire." The torp shot away and caught the ugly’s right wing root before deflecting away. The proximity fuse worked as advertised and the torp detonated, taking the enemy ships wing right off. Two more uglies exploded but Hobbie’s target careened out of the fight with his torp in close pursuit.

"Got your wing six." Said Wedge. Charlotte would have been happy had she not been concentrating so utterly. She was going into a dogfight with three of the galaxy’s very best pilots. She was determined to prove herself.

She saw a DIE-wing turn away from its wingmate and immediately dropped in on its tail. Two quad blasts were all it took to leave a cloud of expanding gases. She rolled out right, Wedge still welded to her wing and picked up a Headhunter she hadn’t noticed before. The pilot was good and he jinked and juked mightily to avoid her but the nimble Interceptor was just too good for him and Charlotte’s fourth quad blast punctured his shields and destroyed his engines. She slowed slightly. "You have lead."

"Acknowledged." Said Wedge, blasting in front of her and back into the fight. He took a deflection shot at a DIE-wing before blasting an X-TIE apart. Charlotte caught sight of Hobbie and Tycho and was amazed at their skill. They swooped, rolled and skidded around in almost perfect unison, swapping the lead back and forth without apparent communication, not firing often but almost every shot was a hit. Further outside the fight she saw the main body of the group slip by, a lone DIE-wing exploding after a concussion missile from the Phoenix impacted. Then she was shooting off to the side as a lone clutch dropped into her six.

Rachel lost sight of her wingmate as the Phoenix entered the nebula. Stay alive Charlotte, she thought. The fighters around them collapsed into a closer formation as visibility deteriorated. They were following the course Rachel had flown to the Tyrant’s lair on her recce mission. She tightened down her belt. The ride was sure to get bumpy when they saw the Tyrant.

GAR’s voice crackled over the radio. "Keep your eyes open people. Sensors are practically useless in here. And watch out for those explosions. I wouldn’t want to fly through one." They flew in silence for another minute or so.

"Contact." Tarris’ voice was scratchy. "Four clicks to port, high."

Rachel glanced up and, sure enough, there was the pirate ship. The freighter lurched as Ili turned towards their destination. Her voice came across the intercom. "At this point Sartosi/Narshel spaceways would like to point out that we hold no responsibility for the comfort of your flight." Rachel smiled but it was killed as a cloud of uglies flew from the Dreadnought’s hangers.

"How many is that?" she called.

"My computer says eighteen." Hosho’s voice was confident. "No sign of Shae’cara. We can take them."

Rachel leant in slightly closer to her gun sight as the enemy fighters approached. At about one and a half kilometres she started spraying laser fire at a DIE-wing. She didn’t really expect to hit at that range but she did make it turn away. Then the Phoenix lurched under her as the first lasers impacted its shields and the real fight began.

Ili threw the big freighter into a corkscrew and Rachel blasted away at anything that came near. They came up and around to point at the Tyrant but they were headed off by a pair of headhunters. Rachel’s guns hammered claiming one whilst the other caught a volley from Kystein below and limped off towards the Dreadnought. Ili again tried to race for the war ship but they were again turned away by enemy fighters. Rachel heard her call GAR. "Any chance of an escort?"

"Sorry. We’re in too deep at the moment. More incoming as well. You might have to wait for the Reds."

Rachel stared at the Dreadnought holding Stosh captive and hoped the Reds put in a swift appearance. Then she was blasting away again as Ili headed into the fight.

Aboard the Dreadnought Stosh had been dragged down the corridor and was again facing Tektar across the table. The pirate was grinning evilly. "Ah, my little mercenary, how fare you today?"

"I’ve been worse."

"Are you ready to talk to me?"

"I’m ready to say something."

"Oh yes?" Tektar was sitting forward now.

"You really should dye your hair. The grey makes you look like someone’s Grandfather."

Tektar threw back his head and laughed. "I like you young man. In different circumstances you could have been useful to me." His expression hardened. "But now I have an ultimatum. We will destroy your fighter today." This didn’t get the reaction Tektar hoped for. Stosh just smiled confidently. "If you still refuse to talk to me, we will start a chemical interrogation and work at that as long as I deem necessary." Stosh’s smile wavered noticeably. "Now, last chance to save your fighter."

Stosh drew breath to speak but before he could say anything the intercom on the table beeped, capturing Tektar’s attention. Stosh didn’t hear much he definitely made out the words "fighters" and "Phoenix." His heart jumped as he realised his friends were here. Tektar stood.

"I’m going to the bridge. Your friends are trying to save you. I hope you’re touched, it’ll be the last thing they do." Stosh just smiled at him again. "Keep an eye on him." Tektar said to one of the guards before heading for the door. In the absence of anything better to do Stosh sat on the floor and waited for an opportunity to arise.

Ili was desperately trying to keep the Phoenix behind a DIE-wing as Rachel shot at it. It was no mean feat as, whilst the DIE-wing was not especially manoeuvrable, the Phoenix was no fighter. She heard a frustrated noise through her headset as the ship in front exploded. "What’s up Rach? You got him."

Rachel snorted disgustedly. "I didn’t get him. It was that X-wing."

Tycho’s voice broke over the airwaves. "Red flight is here. We understand you need an escort Phoenix."

"We could use the help. Thanks." Called Ili. Tycho and Hobbie dropped in on either side of them and together the three ships blasted a route out of the dogfight towards the Tyrant.

"Three hundred metres, two hundred," Nat was calling out the distance to their target, "one hundred, firing retroes." The freighter lurched with the sudden deceleration. "Bring her round Ili."

Ili spun the ship so it was coasting in backwards at the Dreadnought’s keel. She was concentrating utterly on guiding the hatch to the docking port. It had to be done quickly. Tycho’s voice sounded sudden on the comm. "Six uglies scrambling from the dorsal hanger. Red two and three engaging."

"Two on six?" asked Nat.

"No bother." Said Hobbie

"Nat, status?" snapped Ili.

"Uh, thirteen metres and closing. Go left a little. Perfect."

The two ships met with a dull thud and Nat hit the engage button for the hatchway. The light flashed green and she hit the intercom button. "Alright troops, doors open."

Page and Hammax were out of their seats in a flash, sprinting for the rear of the ship. Ili felt the Phoenix shift under her as the commandos made their way to the hatch. Last to leave were Rachel and Kystein, their departure announced by a silencing of the ships guns.

"Good luck Rach." Whispered Ili under her breath.

Rachel was last through the hatch to board the Tyrant. Squad two had already left to search the staterooms and Page waved for his own squad to move out as soon as Rachel was through the hatch. She unslung her rifle and took up her position in the middle of the formation. They moved off quickly through the corridors.

Horten, the scout, put up a hand and motioned for a halt. They could all hear voices from the around the next corridor. Rachel cursed. Tektar had put guards on the turbolifts. She watched as Horten put a small camera connected to his datapad around the corner at floor level and quickly withdrew it. He held up two fingers. Page pointed to Kystein and motioned for him to move up from his position at the rear of the formation. He did so soundlessly and he and Horten readied themselves at the corner. Both sprung round and triggered single shots in the direction of the voices. It was all it took.

The group moved wordlessly past the bodies and into the turbolifts. "This heads straight to the detention level. I want nothing stupid when we get there." Rachel realised he was looking straight at her.

"I’ll be OK."

The lift decelerated and the doors opened. The commandos ran out and deployed covering both sides of the corridor. They moved off in the direction of the cells, Page leading, Rachel close behind. They rounded the corner before the cells and blaster fire exploded around them. They threw themselves across the corridor and into the adjoining room, a store cupboard. They leaned back out and started firing towards the barricade, the troops on the other side doing the same. Page was swearing a blue streak. "We don’t have time for this." He ducked back. "Bijo, status report." He was talking to team two.

"We’ve met light resistance and are proceeding on schedule. We’ve also met the N.R.I. agent. He’s tagging along with us. Knows which room General Janson is in. Floyd’s working at a terminal we passed. He’s got Layaan and Krause covering him."

"Right." Page killed his radio. "We’ve got to get past this soon."

"How?" asked Rachel.

"Damned if I know."

GAR was throwing every move she knew but she just couldn’t shake the clutch behind her. Lasers struck her rear shield several times before an explosion rocked her fighter. She glanced at her scope. "Thanks."

"That’s the Klivian rescue service." An X-wing shot past. "Got my wing?"

"Certainly."

They looped and drove back in at the fight. A fighter caught her eye. "Hosho, break left." The warning was just too late and as Hosho’s fighter started the manoeuvre the headhunter behind him let loose a brace of concussion missiles. The first blew away the TIE advanced’s shields, the second going on to rip away the starboard wing. GAR was about to swear but she saw Hosho’s command chair leap free of the stricken fighter. "Eight is EV."

"We’ll pick him up on the way out." Ili’s voice was still calm. Then again she wasn’t doing anything.

Stosh heard the blaster fire impacting on the walls outside the room. Time to get something done, he thought. He could feel the adrenaline coursing, helping to numb the pain. He sized up the pirates on either side of him. The one on the right was shorter and scrawny, probably best left for last. The other looked much larger and tougher, older too. Him first then.

He gathered his feet under him. Shouts echoed from outside. Something about holding them. The taller pirate turned half towards the door just as Stosh struck. He came up powerfully, catching the pirate in the lower back and bearing him towards the door. The pirate slammed into the doorframe, his temple catching a corner. He slumped down silently.

Stosh turned to face the other pirate. The little man tried to draw a blaster pistol, but Stosh spun and hook-kicked it out of his hands, following it with a succession of blows to his mid-section. To his credit the little man took it well and recovered quick enough to land a jarring blow to Stosh’s jaw, snapping his head round. Stars exploded in front of his eyes and he felt his body begin to fail him. NO, he thought, pulling himself together. He moved in, closing the gap quickly and delivered a devastating headbutt to the little man. The pirate fell back and a quick kick to the head put him down for a good long while.

Stosh stood for a moment, recovering his senses. His balance was way off, that much he could tell. He hoped fervently that it wasn’t a concussion. His right shoulder was aching mightily. He realised he had charged the big pirate with it. That was stupid, he thought, should have used your good one. The firing outside the door rose to a new intensity and he suddenly remembered where he was. He gathered up a blaster carbine and a grenade and opened the door. To the left was nothing, to the right a barricade manned by pirates blasting away at someone. He primed the grenade and rolled it down the corridor before ducking behind the doorway.

The explosion sounded massive in the enclosed space and as Stosh stepped out of the door and triggered a burst at the sole remaining pirate he felt blood trickle from one of his ears. He made it to the barricade and saw soldiers in New Republic uniforms running toward him. It was all he saw before his knees gave out and he sank, unconscious, to the floor.

"Page, Bijo says he can have half his squad down here in four minutes. He’s got Wes and they’re on their way back." Rachel was using her radio, helping Page co-ordinate his team.

"Tell him no-go. We don’t have the time and he can’t spare them if he gets jumped." Page leaned out and loosed off a single shot at the barricade. "Got him."

Just as Page ducked back, an explosion shook the corridor, followed by a burst of blaster fire. When he stuck his head out to check the barricade was gone and a man was staggering down the corridor towards him. Rachel looked also and let out a shout as she sprinted past him. "It’s Stosh!"

Stosh slumped down just as Rachel got to him. Kystein and another trooper ran past securing the room ahead. Rachel kneeled by the prone body as the unit medic went to work. He examined Stosh before grabbing a pack of stimulant.

"Is he OK?" asked Rachel.

"Does he look it?" shot back the medic. "He just passed out. The stars only know how he got this far."

Rachel looked down. Stosh was a mess. But as the medic pumped stimulant into him he got some colour back and opened his eyes. "I must be dead ‘cos I certainly don’t remember you being here." He managed.

Rachel just leaned down and hugged him, planting a kiss bang on his lips. Before Stosh had time to react Page was beside them. "Can he move? We gotta go. Now."

"Help him up." said the medic. Rachel got a hand under Stosh’s shoulder and along with the medic half carried, half dragged Stosh to the turbolifts. As they were descending alarm’s started to ring out and a mechanical voice spoke.

"Self destruct in three minutes. Abandon ship."

Page spoke into his radio. "You coulda given us more time Bijo."

Hammax responded. "Sorry boss. It’s only got one setting."

"I hate old style ships." Said Page with feeling. The turbolift stopped and they ran out, moving as quickly as possible to where the Phoenix was docked. Kystein, Hammax and Page kept watch as the rest boarded. Rachel and the medic carried Stosh to one of the crew bunks, closely followed by Wes and a man Rachel did not recognise. Rachel grabbed a headset on the way. "You aboard Page?"

"On board, hatch secured."

"Go, Ili." Rachel half shouted into the mike.

"Don’t need to tell me twice." Called back Ili as Rachel felt the Phoenix lurch forward violently. "Woops, think we burnt some paint."

"He’ll have more than that to worry about in a minute." Answered Rachel.

Retal Tektar stood on the bridge of his ship and watched as his world fell to pieces. Most of his uglies were gone, only three remaining to harass the fighters now strafing his Dreadnought. Both of his prisoners were gone, that much he could ascertain from the radio traffic on board, but nothing prepared him for what came next.

"Self destruct in three minutes. Abandon ship."

He felt his knees try to give way and gripped the railing to stop himself falling. Because it was a stolen ship he knew of no way to stop the self-destruct sequence after it was activated. The bridge crew took one look at him and started running from their posts. He decided the best course of action was to follow.

He sprinted for the main hanger bay, thinking he must find a ship there. He did. Sitting long and squat and threatening was Shae’cara. Tektar eyed her suspiciously. His techs had assured him they had broken the security on the ship. He decided it was better to die to some unknown booby trap than to his own ship exploding underneath him.

As he slid into the cockpit and powered the big fighter up he marvelled at the quality of the work that had gone into it. The pirate you could have been, he thought. He took the ship out as soon as the repulsors came online, kicking in the sublights just after. He was surprised but impressed to see a backup nav computer show up on a checklist. Good thing too, that annoying runt of an astromech had been disintegrated the day before.

He swung round on a path for open space as escape pods started to shoot past him. Suddenly a freighter shot past his viewport and he turned after it. If they were going to take his ship they were going to have to give a little back.

Ili worked the controls as Nat manipulated the tractor for a "flying catch" on Hosho. They snagged the pilot and drew him into the main airlock without even slowing down. Then the freighter shook violently around them.

"What the hell was that?" asked Ili.

"We’ve got a friend." Said Nat, glancing at the sensors. "It’s Shae’cara."

Nat’s voice was grim and Ili understood perfectly. She keyed the intercom. "Guns, try to tag him. We can’t actually hurt that ship, but maybe whoever flying it doesn’t know." She switched over to the snubbies’ channel. "Phoenix is in trouble."

Derek responded. "Got you Phoenix. Hooligan Two and Three coming to help."

"Hurry." said Ili as she threw the Phoenix down and around in another corkscrew. "Damn it Stosh," she mumbled to herself, "why did you have to go and build a super ship?"

The rapidly firing guns finally found their mark and the Y-wing turned away momentarily. Ili took the chance to refine her course farther away form the Dreadnought and more towards open space. As she did so the warships engines cracked apart in a blinding flash that slowly worked its way forward. The nose of the ship disappeared last. The lasers started hammering on the Phoenix’s rear shield again.

"Derek, where’s my support?" Ili called desperately as she threw all energy to the rear shields.

"In missile range now. That jamming system doesn’t make it any easier you know."

"Sorry," said Nat, "but if you don’t move your ass, they’re ain’t going to be anything to save."

Ili and Nat threw the big freighter around desperately, managing to dodge a few more shots before Derek’s voice came back. "Got a lock, firing now."

Four proton torpedos shot from the B-wings and homed on Shae’cara. Stosh had built her well, but she was not indestructible. The first pair blasted down her shields, the second shredded her central section. The two engines shot off past the Phoenix out of the nebula.

A lone voice came over the radio. "If those engines aren’t salvageable it’s coming out of your pay."

In his cockpit Mags smiled. He keyed his mike. "Good to hear from you again Hooligan Lead."

Epilogue

GAR sat in a quiet corner of the Lazy Twi’lek and watched as her pilots set about showing the commandos how to party. The lomin ale and Whyren’s Reserve were flowing freely and the first dancers were taking to the floor, led by Nat and the newly rescued Wes Janson. In fact, Wes was none the worse for his incarceration, having been treated as an honoured guest by the pirates and had not needed any of the intensive medical treatment Stosh had received. Even worse for Wes, Wedge swore he had gained weight since he had been taken, an accusation he denied vehemently.

Wedge and Tycho themselves sat off to one side, deep in conversation with Ili and Jeni. In the booth next to them Charlotte was looking very comfortable in the company of Krist Tomper, the handsome young intelligence agent who, according to Wedge, was probably about to pick up the sector commander’s job after his work in the rescue.

Derek, Mags, Hosho and Tarris on the other hand, seemed to have joined forces with a group of commandos, including Page and Kystein, and were attempting to drink the bar’s entire supply of Abrax Cognac. The growing line of bottles at the end of their table bespoke their success. She leaned back in her chair and soaked up the atmosphere.

"They certainly know how to cut loose." A voice sliced through her thoughts. She opened her eyes to see the lean face of Hobbie Klivian.

"They’ve earned it. They did some good work." She sipped her whiskey as the New Rep General sat down.

"How’s Stosh? Last I knew he was still in the bacta." He adopted an apologetic look. "I’ve been trying to clear up administrative stuff for Wedge since. I think that’s my purpose in life sometimes."

GAR smiled. "I’m sure Jeni feels the same sometimes. He got out about three hours before this kicked off. He was supposed to be resting but nothing stops Stosh when a party’s involved. He disappeared about a half-hour ago with Rachel. Can’t imagine why."

Hobbie looked contemplative for a moment before finishing his bottle of Lomin ale. "Want to dance?" he asked as a slow melody played out over the cantina.

GAR glanced around and saw other couples taking the floor, Charlotte and Krist especially looking very close. "Why not?" She said and, arm in arm, they made their way to join the dance.

Though he walked with a definite limp on his left leg and his ribs and right shoulder were heavily strapped, Stosh couldn’t remember ever having felt better. He had begged off the party after about an hour and a half, pleading tiredness after his bacta bath. It was a lie as he had spent most of his time in the tank sleeping. The rest, however, had been spent trying to sort out his muddled memories of the escape from the Tyrant. No matter how many times he went over it, bits remained totally blank. All except one moment he didn’t think he’d ever forget. He grinned sloppily, what an old friend had once called his Han Solo look, and glanced over at the girl walking next to him. He and Rachel had wandered in the general direction of the Ready Room base since they had left the party.

"You kissed me." He said, breaking the silence.

"Uh, yeah." Rachel’s reply was uncertain.

"Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it. Probably made me move a lot faster than all that stimulant, but why’d you do it?" Damn it, damn it, why did he have to come over all awkward at times like this. I’m 26 not 16. This shouldn’t be too hard.

"Ummm, I don’t know. Just overwhelmed." No, that wasn’t what she wanted to say. Ah, I hate this part, she thought.

Stosh stopped abruptly. So did Rachel.

"Look…" both said at the same time.

Stosh grinned. "You first."

Rachel looked down, then away. Finally she looked straight at him, her eyes searching. "When you were taken, all I could think about was what I’d lost. We’ve become close and I couldn’t do anything as you were hauled away to the stars only know what fate. I was on the verge of tearing my cockpit to pieces in frustration. Then when we found Tektar’s hiding place but couldn’t launch a mission immediately I was about to come after you myself. Wedge stopped me and he talked to me for a while. He made me see something. I love you Stosh." Her eyes met his at this and then she glanced away. "Oh, sithspit, I shouldn’t have said that, you’ll think I’m totally spaced." She seemed on the verge of tearing off down the path until Stosh laid a hand on her arm. There were tears in his eyes.

"Being held prisoner on that ship was the worst thing that ever happened to me. It was more constant pain both mental and physical than even losing Shae’cara was. But then I found out about you and Charlotte locating us. My heart jumped about four feet in the air. The one thing that gave me the strength to get through the rest of the interrogations, even to take down that barricade, was that you were coming for me. Not the rest of the group, you, Rachel Janson. It might seem crazy and I have no idea when it happened, but I love you too."

He looked at her face. There were tears in her eyes, then she was in his arms, her mouth on his. She leaned back for a moment. "By the stars we’re stupid sometimes." Then they were kissing again.

Finis