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[Imperial Recon Flight, 10000m above Redault, Mantara Sector, the following day]

"Targets confirmed. We have four heavy turbolaser batteries at site Red, and another four at site Blue. I wouldn't want to bring the Star Destroyers over this lot."

"Thank you, Rho Lead. We want reconnaissance, not opinions. Complete your sweep and observations. Vociferous out."

The three TIE/rc recon fighters banked to head back towards the primary target area.

[Tasdar Defence Complex, Redault, Mantara Sector]

"You got 'em?"

"Yes Sarge, but they're too high. These things only reach up to a couple of thousand metres." The trooper lowered the tubular missile launcher on his shoulder.

Sergeant Netton nodded and jogged back to the command vehicle, a modified Seinar Republic Systems Overlord speeder that was older than some of the troops under his command. Draped over the ageing, grey-painted repulsortank was a metallic sensor-baffling cammo net. Netton tossed a quick salute to his commanding officer, Captain Gallta, and stepped inside, ducking his head to avoid the low roof.

Gallta nodded "Well, it looks like the Imperials are coming here, after all."

"Did you doubt it, after what happened to Talonis and Picas?"

"I prayed that they wouldn't," said Gallto, simply, and he picked up the hard-wired field commlink.

"Prometheus Control, this is Guardian One. We have targets overhead."

"Roger that, Guardian. Stand by," came the reply.

Half a kilometre behind the command vehicle, one of the twin turbolaser turrets began to turn and track upwards.


"Lead, this is two. I've got movement on target Red-2."

"Don't worry, those things are anti-capital ship guns, they can't hit us here."

As if on cue, a stream of bright green laserfire reached up, missing the three fighters but tossing them around as the air superheated by the bolts washed over the lightweight craft.

"Vociferous, this is Rho group. We are under fire from Site Red. We are reducing altitude."

As Rho leader finished his report, green fire lanced out once more, this time close enough to vaporise the port wing of Rho 3. The TIE span laterally into it's dive, tumbling further out of control as its wingmates followed, their dives somewhat more restrained than that of their erstwhile wingman.

[Brig, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

Lieutenant Tolk was having a very confusing time. Firstly, the Rebels hadn't shot him and his crew dead, the way he'd been briefed to expect. Admittedly, the fact that they had bothered to disable his craft instead of destroying it with all hands had given him a faint clue that things did not necessarily happen the way the Empire said they did.

Having survived the Rebel capture - and subsequent destruction - of his craft, he expected to be treated badly. Again, the Rebels had treated him well, offering him food and water, although the brown lumpy thing on the side of his plate was particularly suspicious, he thought.

After spending a further half an hour in the brig, he was moved to another room under armed guard and the interrogations had begun. First had come a man and woman team - the man asked all the questions, the woman just kept staring at him. He hadn't let anything slip.

Tolk sat back, careful to keep the smile off his face as the two interrogators stood and walked from the room. Their replacement was a large man carrying a briefcase. So much for the Rebel's high ideals. Now they're going to beat information out of me?

"Well, Laddae, let's ha' a wee chat, sha' wae?"


[Tasdar Defence Complex, Redault, Mantara Sector]

"Guardian, this is Prometheus Control. Looks like we got one, the others are diving for the deck. I - stand by. Guardian, we have incoming craft, multiple directions, low level."

"Roger, Prometheus. We'll take it from here, good luck. Guardian out."

Gallta punched a pair of buttons on the commlink base unit.

"Guardian, this is One. We have incoming, engage according to plan."


The two surviving Rho reconnaissance fighters joined formation above the TIE bombers as the lead craft crested the hill to the south of the Tasdar defence complex.

"Theta group, this is Rho Lead. Transmissions detected, downloading co-ordinates. Hit 'em hard."


[Flight Deck, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

Solo walked slowly under the damaged freighter, his arm outstretched, his fingers brushing lightly over the scarred, cold hull.

"You look like you've just found an old friend."

Solo turned to see Arachnoid approaching the freighter, carrying a datapad.

"It's been a while since I've been this close to a YT-2000," replied Solo, wistfully. "What are they going to do with her?"

"Well, she definitely needs some work," said Arachnoid with a grin. He brandished his datapad. "Gen'yaa has ordered us to pull as much information from her and then repair her as best we can - she is an NRI crate, after all."

"Mind if I tag along?" said Solo, "I've got a fair bit of experience with the YT series transports."

"Not at all. Come on, let's take a look."

[Tasdar Defence Complex, Redault, Mantara Sector]

"Fire at will!"

In twenty camouflaged positions around the defence battery, twenty soldiers triggered the missile launchers they carried.


"What the - Shit! Incoming!"

Rho leader jinked his fighter up and to the left, dodging the missile targeted on his fighter. The small missile shot underneath the hull, carried on a flare of gold and red fire. Arcing over, the seeker warhead selected another target and slammed into the hull of Theta Six, one of the lead bombers, detonating it. The recon pilot watched in amazement as a ring of explosions from around the target area signalled the death of Theta Squadron and half of Beta, too. Gone also was Rho 2, struck on the starboard wing and sent tumbling to the ground below.


"Yeehaa!"

"We got 17 in total, sir, but we've still got incoming"

Gallto nodded and spoke into his comlink once more. "Phase Two"


"Break off, break off!"

"Negative, Rho Lead. We have our mission. Fifteen seconds to launch..."

The remaining bombers volleyed off a pair of torpedoes each as a new volley of missiles leapt upwards, these from around the base of the southernmost turbolaser tower.

Each bomber had at least one missile targeted on it, many had two, and one was the target of four separate warheads. The heavy attack fighters were blasted from the sky even as their torpedoes fell onto the turbolaser towers of Prometheus South, known to the Imperial attackers as Site Red.

Four Battery, the same twin heavy turbolaser tower that had engaged the reconnaissance fighters, took four torpedoes on its north face. Tearing into the heavy slab armour, the projectiles damaging power lines and coolant feeds, before a fifth torpedo tore through the damaged side of the structure, detonating inside and felling the upper half like a rotten tree. The rest of the towers faired better, taking only shock damage and losing a little armour.

The remaining TIE recon fighter curved and headed away from the site, seeking a safe path to return to its native space.

[Corridor, outside Brig, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

"Arrrrggggghhhhhh!!!! Please, make it stop! Make it stop!!"

The faint strains of Granite's bagpipes started again...


[Bridge, Imperial Star Destroyer Dominance]

"Report" ordered Piett, striding towards the centre of the gangway over the two crew pits.

"The bomber raid on defence sites Red and Blue have failed," reported the communications officer, Lieutenant Kinsa. Even as he reported, Gillett called up a large map of the area on the holographic display on the bridge's rear bulkhead.

"'Failed'?"

Kinsa grimaced. "Sorry, sir. The bombers were shot down with man-portable weapons at close range to the targets. Minor damage to the target batteries."

Piett stood at the map for several moments.

"Options?" he asked.

"TIE Bombers are vulnerable to the missiles. We could use gunboats to perform the strike," suggested the fighter-control officer, Haron. "But if we do, we lose our hyperspace-capable outer sentry fighters."

Piett nodded his understanding and turned to the fire control officer.

"Orbital bombardment from the four destroyers could wipe out both defence batteries, however, we'd take heavy damage" said the junior officer.

"How bad?"

"Anything ranging from heavy damage to all four ships on the ventral surfaces if they split their firepower, up to loss of one of the Victories or even an Imperial if they concentrate on one vessel."

Piett nodded and turned to his XO.

"We could leave them alone and cancel that part of the mission, but Red and Blue cover the industrial areas at Kry'ath and Ber'tarna. We'd lose the output from the fuel cell refineries, the raw materials from the mines in the Tarna mountain range... Around half of the material we intended to take from the planet," reported Gillett.

"Commando Raid?" asked Piett, already knowing the answer.

"Too heavily defended on the ground, we'd never get through."

The Admiral nodded. "Major ground assault it is then." He turned to Kinsa. "Get me Colonel Richt."

[Tasdar Defence Complex]

Netton returned to the command speeder, where Gallto was stood, poring over a map of the batteries and the surrounding area.

"Looks like those Plexes were worth the money we paid for 'em. We got all the bombers and a couple of fighters."

Gallto looked up with a thin smile and a nod. "Make sure everyone gets reloads for their launchers, then get them shifted to ground defence positions. They'll be back."

Netton nodded, saluted and ran to pass on the orders.

The ground rumbled. Netton watched as the young soldier next to him clutched his blaster rifle even tighter.

"Easy there, trooper - you'll bend the metal" said the sergeant with a grim smile.

The soldier relaxed a little and gave a wan smile.

"Yes sarge."

Netton peeked over the edge of the camouflaged trench and raised his macrobinoculars.

"Klick and a half out. Load up. Even missile teams, pick your targets and engage on my mark. Fire, then move. Good luck everyone."


[AT-AT Striker 1]

Colonel Richt of the Imperial Army punched a button on his holodisplay. Eighteen red circles appeared on the map of the defence batteries, along with six orange ones.

"Well, at least we have some Recon data," said the colonel, almost to himself. "Move the AT-STs forward and have them scour for traps. Begin suppression fire against these enemy positions as soon as they are within range," he ordered.


"Chicken walkers moving forward!"

"Sarge, we can't engage the AT-ATs from here, the missiles will lock onto the scout walkers instead."

Netton considered this for a second. "Understood. Missile teams, punch us a hole through the 'STs first."


"Sir, we are in range of the first three enemy positions."

"Very well. Engage with suppression fire. Release Speeder Bike Group 4, have them scout the flanks. Tell them to watch out for enemy anti-armour missile teams." ordered Richt.

In the back of the first platoon of AT-ATs, the speeder hangars ground open and disgorged a squad of speeder bikes each, the Scout Troopers' white armour glinting brightly in the morning sunshine. Two squads moved to the east, another two to the west, before turning north toward the target area.


With the characteristic whine of heavy blaster bolts, the AT-ATs began to pour fire in towards the defensive perimeter. Netton cringed slightly as he waited, breathlessly, as the blaster bolts flew overhead, tearing into the ground and sending fountains of dirt into the air.

"They're engaging our old positions!" yelled the sergeant over the noise

"We've got speeders incoming" reported one of the lookouts.

"Acknowledged" replied Netton, returning to peer through the binoculars "Stand by... FIRE! Teams 1 through 5, reload with GAMs and engage those speeder bikes!"

The red missiles arced up before tipping over and boring in on the scout walkers.


"Sir! Enemy missile fire!"

Richt's head was already coming up, alerted by the sensor feed to his holodisplay, when the pilot yelled. He watched as one of the missiles slammed into one of the lead walkers in front of his AT-AT, causing it to reel backward under the impact. Across the battlefront, more missiles smashed into his vanguard walkers.

"Well, looks like the scout walkers can take those missiles without much trouble - " said Richt as the AT-ST in front of him began to move forward.

Another missile streaked from the enemy lines and struck the walker directly on the front of the command pod. The missile punched easily through the armour already badly damaged by the first missile and detonated inside, shredding the durasteel construction in a ball of fire.

" - Well, one of those missiles, anyway" said Richt with a sigh. "Retarget the suppression fire."

He faced forward again. "Gunner, I want that missile launcher ahead of us taken out. See to it personally."

The command pod swivelled slightly and shook as the chin-mounted guns spat heavy blaster fire at the spot of ground hiding the impudent missile team.


Netton watched in dismay as the trench holding team 8 was blasted into pieces by the lead AT-AT.

"I said fire, then move!" he yelled into his comlink. "Guardian One, this is Two. We have Imperial walkers moving in from the south. We've lost one -"

An orange explosion blossomed to Netton's left.

"-Correction, two missile teams. Four AT-STs destroyed, six damaged, four speeder bikes destroyed. Two AT-ATs damaged. We're not going to be able to hold much longer."

"Understood. Hold them as long as you can then fall back. Good luck. One out."

[Three hours later]

Richt activated the comlink and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The battle had been vicious. Every time he had thought the strike force had managed to scatter the defenders, they had hit back. Ambushes, surprise attacks, close quarter fighting and even hand-to-hand combat among the defensive trenches had slowed down the pace of the imperial assault to that of a Coruscant Granite-Slug.

"Dominance, this is Striker One. Target sites Red and Blue secured."

"Acknowledged, Striker One. Please standby."

Kinsa looked up at Gillett "Sir, Striker reports sites Red and Blue are secure"

Gillett nodded and turned to his commander.

"I heard, Captain," said Piett "Order the heavy lifters in. Mission time?"

Gillett consulted his datapad before answering "We're 7 hours, 46 minutes behind original schedule, sir. Two hours and 46 minutes behind contingency plan Clearance, and one and a half hours behind the Colonel's Assault schedule."

Piett grimaced, a rare display of emotion for the Vice Admiral, and nodded. "Anything new from the probes?"

Gillett shook his head. "Sorry, sir, no. We don't know of the current location of the Rebel Carrier. The last enemy contact was the Patrol Group in the Relas system."

"And in that contact we didn't come out too well, did we?" said Piett, again simply stating fact. "We still don't know if the Rebels managed to salvage anything from that engagement. If they did, we could have the pleasure of their company any moment."

"Well, sir, according to the revised schedule, we should be finished here within the next four hours. Once we're loaded we can break contact and reorganise away from the Rebels until we're ready for the next assault."

Piett considered this as he ran through possible scenarios in his mind.


[Cockpit, YT-2000 Freighter Al'yin'ia]

"You'll have to give me some more juice"

"Just a sec... How's that?"

Solo clambered out from under the control console of the pilot's seat and took a deep breath.

"Come on baby, gimme a sign here," he said under his breath. He activated the power distribution system and brought it up to normal levels, checking the feed from the Wolf's Lair's systems was regulated properly - the engines weren't in any fit state to start up at the moment, so the craft was drawing power from the hangar bay.

"Yeah! We got power!"

"OK," said Arachnoid, coming forward from the engineering section at the aft of the oval shaped hull, "Punch up the flight logs and the navicomputer"

"Working on it now..."

Arachnoid peered over Solo's shoulder as the pair scanned through the records of the craft's recent movements.

"There!" said Arachnoid, pointing at a log entry, the last one made. It spoke of visiting a planet over towards Albiar - probably to gather info or drop probes, he thought - before joining a freight convoy heading back towards the centre of the sector. "Pull up the navigation computer and see where they went."

Solo nodded and punched a few keys.

Both pilots were silent for a few seconds as they digested the information displayed.

"Here," said Solo, pointing at the display, "It looks like it's in the middle of nowhere."

"Could have been a rendezvous point, or maybe a deep space depot."

"Hmm. Perhaps the sensor logs... Damn. Most of them are encrypted."

Arachnoid straightened up and thought for a couple of seconds. "The esteemed Colonel could probably provide us with the encryption codes."

Solo nodded and punched a few more buttons. "In the meantime, take a look at this."

Arachnoid leaned back over Solo's shoulder and looked at the holodisplay. "What the...?"

Solo grinned. "The Black Box"

"You mean the flight data recorder?"

"Yep" replied the X Wing pilot. "It's set to record what the pilot's instruments show - that includes the combat sensors."

"The circular sensor displays on the Head-Up Display?"

Solo punched a few buttons and downloaded the record to his datapad. "Correct. In this case, we have enough red dots here to give a squadron of rookies a collective heart attack."

[Kruger Drift Asteroid Belt, Mantara Sector]

Karla "Chacal" Medina watched the timer count down towards zero and gently pushed the hyperdrive levers forward. The rotating tunnel of hyperspace collapsed into starlines and then into points as the X Wing dropped from hyperspace.

"OK, Tronquito," she said, speaking to her R2 unit, "Poll the force. Make sure everyone made it."

The little R2 unit trilled an affirmative and checked the sensor logs for the hyperspace breakout, then listed the data on one of the cockpit screens.

The screen showed the names of the two freighters, which until recently had belonged to the Imperial Navy Supply Services, but had been re-christened by their crews as the Castellia and the Jerezan. Accompanying them was a Lambda Class shuttle, the Nube, and two flights of starfighters, each consisting of 3 Z-95 Headhunters and an X Wing. Chacal had overall command of the fighter screen, her second in command, "Oso" Chavez, headed up Two Flight in the second X Wing.

She punched up the comlink channel for the captain of the Castellia, the commander of the mission to Talonis. "Captain, this is Lead. Beginning our sweep."

"Affirmative, Aguila Lead."

As briefed, the fighter screen moved ahead of the freighters and moved towards the asteroid belt.

"Castellia to Taskforce Mercy. Looks like the channel hasn't drifted much. Proceed as planned."

The path through the asteroid field in the direction of Talonis had been plotted, but drift and collisions between the asteroids themselves meant that the taskforce would need to be careful in traversing the field.

As the Iberyan craft approached the edge of the asteroid field, One flight moved to scout the field ahead.

"Lead, this is Three. The metal content in these asteroids is pretty bad. My sensors are all fouled up."

"Roger that, Three, we're getting if across the board. Execute plan Alpha."


[Bridge, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

"Interesting. But it's unsubstantiated" said Gen'yaa, slipping into her old role as an Intelligence officer.

Granite and Ibero traded exasperated looks.

"Yes, ma'am," replied the Intelligence Officer, "But Flight Officer Stone is very... persuasive?"

"Yes, I'm sure he is. I'm still not sure whether bagpipes are actually legal under Republic Navy Regs, but we'll let that slide for the time being. So you think he was telling the truth, that Redault is the next target?"

Granite cleared his throat "Hae went over his story several times. There were nae discrepancies."

Gen'yaa smiled thinly and walked to a holodisplay showing nearby systems "That doesn't answer my question. He may believe it, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's true."

Ibero took a breath and began to reply, but was cut off by the Captain's raised hand.

"You have reported this information to Colonel Schroeder?"

"Yes, ma'am. She and Wolfshead 5 have cut their patrol short and are on their way back as we speak - she told us to report to you immediately."

"Very well. Navigation, plot a course for the Redault system, Communications, recall the other patrol, then find me Major Stauber and ask him to join us up here."


[Deck 4, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

Vyper turned as he heard his name called and keyed the turbolift to hold. Arachnoid and Solo jogged over, the former holding a datapad. Once they were aboard the lift car, he hit the resume button.

"Make it quick, I've been summoned to see her."

"You may want to take a look at this. We've just pulled it from the logs on the Al'yin'ia" said Arachnoid, handing over his datapad.

"That's a lot of contacts," said Vyper, peering intently at the screen "The Imperials?"

"It's a good bet," said Solo "But we can't pull the rest of the data without decrypting it - We figured it would be easier to see if the good Colonel could provide us with the codes."

Vyper nodded. "OK, come with me."


[Bridge, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

The doors swished open quietly, allowing the three Wolfshead pilots access to the nerve centre of the ship, the main bridge. Offset to the portside of the hull, the large viewport overlooked the curved bows of the Strike Carrier.

"Ah, Major Stauber, Commanders. I need you to send a patrol to the Redault System. Make sure it's well armed."

Vyper nodded. "In the meantime, ma'am, we've downloaded the logs from the freighter. They're encrypted."

Gen'yaa nodded and turned to her Intelligence Officer. "Bring the logs up and start trying our most recent encryption codes."

While Dey'jeaa got to work, Vyper crossed to Ibero

"Dario, take a pair of X Wings and check this out."

"OK, I'll get onto Drake and Raiven now," replied the Iberyan, pulling out his comlink. "We should be away within 15 minutes."

"Good. Give me a call before you launch."

"Ma'am, sir, we have it. It's a variation of the Trollo-4 and Keystone-8 codes. The computer is decrypting now."


[Asteroid 537A, Kruger Drift Asteroid Belt, Mantara Sector]

The cratered, misshapen asteroid rotated slowly, revealing a pair of Y Wings sat, powered down, in the largest of the craters.

"OK, I see a pair of mid-sized ships - probably Bulk Freighters, by their shapes. Four, six - maybe eight fighters."

Dosoc looked around at his backseater, Stemas, who was observing the incoming ships with a pair of macrobinoculars.

"Make your mind up." He said, acidly. "What types?"

"Look like Headers or Crosses"

Headhunters or X Wings, thought Dosoc. Even eight of them shouldn't be much of a problem.

"Well, at least they're more or less on time." he said, punching a button to begin the preflight power sequence. "Now let's see if that idiot Waznep can spring this trap properly."

Stemas sat back and laughed. The animosity between Dosoc, head of the Vulture's small but powerful bomber group, and Waznep, the X Wing pilot in nominal command of the fighters, was well known after an incident involving the pair, a substantial amount of money and an even more substantial amount of alcohol.

Since communications and active sensors would have given away their presence to their quarry, the pirate force were under orders to engage only when the leader began his attack.

[Bridge, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

"Captain, we have incoming craft from hyperspace - it's Wolfshead Lead."

"Thank you."

The bothan turned back as the senior officers watched the data spread across the huge holodisplay that made up one side of the bridge. The grey daggers of the Star Destroyers appeared first as the viewpoint craft dropped from hyperspace. A short while later the two frigates and several corvettes became visible as the range scrolled down.

Along the left side of the screen, the computer listed the data recorded by the spy freighter's powerful sensors.

"Vociferous, Valourous, Providence and Dominance, Angel of Fury and Pacifier, Audacity, Antagonist, Ostraciser, Immutable and Radiance. I'm going to have to get myself some more cheerful reading material," commented Arachnoid with a grim smile.

"That's one hell of a list," agreed Vyper with a nod.

"Navigation, I need relative bearings for the position of the Imperial Task Force and their heading" ordered Gen'yaa.

[Kruger Drift Asteroid Belt]

Most of the pirate pilots were fairly experienced, and each had a good feel for when they should begin the attack. Judging distances and speeds of the Iberyan craft, several began their engine preflight sequences, preparing their craft for flight as the targets approached.


"Lead, this is six. I just got a power spike, a small one. 64 mark 21."

That was Aguila Six, "Ojos", who was flying a Z95R Recon Headhunter Variant.

"And another, and another... Six, eight..."

"OK, Six, I got the picture. Mercy Task Force, this is Aguila Lead. Enemy detected, starfighter power signatures. Looks like a trap."

"Roger that, Aguila Lead. Proceed as planned, situation Tango."

On board the bridge of the Castellia, Captain Santos turned to the communications officer. "Prepare the distress call, attach our co-ordinates and prepare for transmission. They'll probably jam our transmissions quickly, so set on repeat and try to get as many repetitions off before they do so."

[Bridge, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

"Captain! We have the results. The Imperial fleet was aligned for an exit vector pointing directly towards Redault."

Gen'yaa grimaced and flashed a look at Granite "Looks like we have our confirmation. Plot a course, maximum velocity. Report status of Wolfshead Patrols?"

"Wolfshead 1 and 5 are inbound, ETA one minute, 15 seconds."

"Looks like they'll need a fast turnaround" commented the Captain of the Wolf's Lair "Gentlemen, can I suggest you get to your fighters?"

[Kruger Drift Asteroid Field]

"OK, Waznep's moving!" said Stemas, "Go, go, go!"

Dosoc jammed his throttle forward, ignoring the danger of overspooling his engines - Y Wings were designed to handle a hell of a lot more punishment than that. The bomber lifted from the surface of the asteroid and began accelerating towards the Iberyan group, his wingman close behind. Ahead, a pair of X-TIE uglies - X Wing fighters repaired with TIE fighter solar panels replacing the S Foils - leapt off an asteroid to the left of the Y Wings and headed in.

"Raider Flight, report in!"

"Two."

"Three."

Dosoc risked a look over his shoulder towards the other two Y Wings, who had apparently launched from their asteroid hiding places without difficulty.

"Skull Lead, this is Raider One, Raider Flight ready. Better call in the Spark."

"Shut up, Raider One. Just do your job and get those freighters!" snapped Waznep, irritably.

A flicker of pseudomotion announced the arrival of a Delta Class Transport with its escort of two Cloakshape fighters. Named "Spark", the transport carried the pirate's jamming equipment. A few seconds later the subspace radio channels were blanked by a loud burst of static.

[Bridge, Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

"...Repeat, we are under attack by pirates, Kruger Drift Asteroid Field, co-coordinates attached. Please assist. Repeat, we - "

"Captain, we have an incoming distress call from the Iberyan aid convoy. They're under pirate attack near the Kruger Drift. They are requesting - "

The young communications tech quickly reached up and pulled her headphones from her head. "Ow."

"What's wrong?" asked Gen'yaa, who had been walking over to get more information.

"Someone just set off some serious hypercomm jammers, ma'am." The Bothan could hear the static from the headphones even from halfway across the bridge.

"Dammit, belay the hyperspace jump. Get me Lieutenant Colonel Schroeder."

[Kruger Drift Asteroid Belt]

"This is not good," commented Dosoc. "This is not at all good."

The Iberyan pilots, far from being surprised at the appearance of the pirates, had cut their throttles and released a barrage of concussion missiles before splitting into pairs and moving to engage the pirates at close range. Raider 3 had taken one of the missiles on its port-forward quarter, depleting shield power but otherwise doing no damage to the sturdy craft. Several of the poorly- or un- shielded uglies had been less lucky, blasted into pieces by the fast moving warheads.

Dosoc did not like Waznap, but realised that the X Wing pilot was at least competent. At the loss of the Y Wing's Ugly support, he had dispatched a pair of fast T Wings to engage the Iberyan fighters until slower X-TIEs could move to cover the bombers.

With waves of green and red energy, the two fighter forces smashed into each other, jockeying for position. One of the Cloakshapes of Skull flight went first, followed by its Starchaser wingmate before the first Iberyan Z95 Headhunter was destroyed. Dosoc throttled back slightly to allow the other two Y Wings - both single seat A4 models - to creep ahead and gain cover from his own S3 twin seat fighter. The three Y Wings of Raider flight dived through the melee, with Stemas taking a few pot shots with the turret mounted ion cannon at an X Wing that flashed past.

"It's OK, we're through!" yelled Stemas as the bombers screamed past the fighter melee.


Chacal twisted the X Wing's flight path slightly to avoid the fire from the Y Wing and closed on her target, an R41-Starchaser that seemed to be a little too occupied with her wingman. A pair of quad bursts pierced the older fighter's weakened shields and tore the craft apart.

"Lead, this is Eight. The Y Wings are through!"

"Roger that" replied Chacal "Castellia, you have incoming."

"We see them, Aguila Lead. We'll take it from here. Good luck."

Anap turned to the tactical display and watched as the icons representing the pirate Y Wings approached the two freighters. At six klicks, three pairs of yellow-gold blips indicated a torpedo launch.

"Launch! Launch! Launch!"

Upon command, the three TIE fighters nestled between the twin hulls of each freighter, hidden from prying eyes, burst free. Forming into two three-craft flights, they screamed towards the incoming torpedoes, each aiming for one warhead. Closing rapidly, the captured Imperial fighters sprayed laserfire across space, destroying the incoming torps.

A few seconds later, half the TIEs engaged the pirate bombers in a flurry of red and green laser fire while the others rushed to assist their beleaguered wingmates.

[Strike Carrier Wolf's Lair]

The three X Wings screamed from the starboard side of the Wolf's Lair's hangar in V formation. Behind them, the Strike Carrier lurched and accelerated rapidly before disappearing into hyperspace.

"So I'm here to do the fancy flying," commented Drake, "Two-two makes the sarcastic comments and watches my back, and you... What is it that you're here for, anyway, Commander?"

[Maybe to try to keep your ego under control] commented Arpin.

"Very funny," said Ibero sarcastically, grinning despite himself. "Now be quiet and prepare to enter hyperspace on my mark."

Drake looked over at Raiven, flying off Ibero's port S Foil. The Tieosian pilot grinned and nodded.

"OK, on 5...4... -"

Raiven and Drake's X Wings flashed overhead in perfect formation and leapt into hyperspace. Ibero sat startled for several seconds before pulling his own hyperdrive levers and leaping into the abyss.

[Kruger Drift Asteroid Belt]

"We're gonna need some fire support" said Dosoc, as much to himself as to Stemas. He switched frequencies to the relay channel that passed through Spark. "Call in the Brazen. Do it now!"

"Raider One, that is not your concern! Spark, this is Skull On-". The rest of the message dissolved into static as Aguila Eight shredded Waznep and his fighter.

Dosoc sideslipped and cut his throttle, causing the TIE fighter to overshoot. Levelling out, he snapped off a quick shot at the TIE, damaging the port solar panel. Pushing the throttle levers back to the stops, he turned back towards the battle and checked his sensors. Twelve of the twenty two pirate fighters had been destroyed or disabled, for a cost to the Iberyans of four Headhunters and a pair of TIEs. Both of Dosoc's wingmen had been overwhelmed by the Iberyan TIE fighters that had so rudely surprised the bomber pilots, but they were not the only ones with sabacc cards up their sleeves...

"Spark, are you going to call them in or do I have to kill you myself?"

"Message transmitted. They're on their way"

Another flicker of pseudomotion announced the arrival of the pirate's previously hidden weapon - an ageing Nebulon B frigate, the Brazen. The deep booming voice of the pirate leader, Vitle, cut across the comlink. "What a bloody mess. Where's Waznep?"

"He's gone, Captain," responded Dosoc, "These guys are good"

"Ha!" replied Vitle, "We'll soon see how good they are in a second."


Chacal wiped her nose with the back of her flight glove, ignoring the red stain.

"Lead, this is Five. You OK over there?"

"Sure, Oso, just banged about a bit," replied Chacal, recharging her shields, "You get the bastard? How are we doin'?"

"Yeah, I got him. They've pulled back to regroup around that frigate, which is on its way over here pretty damn fast. They'll be in gun range of the freighters in a couple of minutes unless we do something."

"Aguila Lead to Aguila and Halcón Flights. Form up and get ready. Castellia, status?"

"Shields have taken a bit of a battering, but we're OK. Another run by those Y Wings, though, and we won't be going anywhere."

"Y Wing, sir. We got two of them. The third was an S3 twin seater, he held us off long enough to get back under cover."

"Lead, this is Eight. Looks like they're back together and heading our way."


The X Wings dropped in behind the frigate at a distance of less than a click. Raiven took rapid stock of the situation and yelled into the comlink. "Break!"

He banked and curved around to the frigate's port side while Drake went starboard, followed a few seconds by later Ibero's X Wing as it reverted from hyperspace practically on top of the frigate.

"Ibeyan craft, this is Wolffang flight, do require assistance?" asked the Command Wing officer, once he had caught his breath from the surprise.

"Damn right, Wolffang. They're after the freighters for Talonis!"

"Roger that. We're going after the frigate. Cover us."

Without waiting for reply, Ibero levelled his craft out as he began to extend the distance out on the frigate. A flicker of motion from the portside indicated Drake settling into the wingman position.

"Here we go again..." he said to himself, reaching above his head and flicking the switch to open the S Foils. As the two craft passed four clicks from the target frigate, Ibero began a tight loop to make his approach.


The arrival of the Republic fighters had thrown the pirates into disarray, but only for the twenty seconds it took to realise that the vanguard X Wings were, in fact, the only X Wings.

"Ha! Look at 'em run!" said Cosh Three, piloting an R-41 Starchaser.

"Shut up, Three. They'll be back, you can bet on it," responded Dosoc "Cosh Two, Cosh Three, engage the single X Wing. Switchblade Flight, take Dagger One and take out the other two. The rest of the fighters, engage the Iberyans!"

The pirates were a little slow in following the orders of the bomber jock but moved to comply, allowing the reformed Iberyan fighter group to move to within 4 clicks.


"OK, Halcón Flight, punch us a hole through there. Aguila Flight, launch at the frigate and then engage the fighters. Good Luck, everyone."


Raiven waited until Ibero and Drake had finished their turns before executing a rapid vertical half-loop followed by a 180º roll.

[Typical. You're never on time] commented Arpin.

"Leave the tactics to me, tin can."

[Well, your wonderful tactics have left us without any cover, about to get blasted by a pair of fighters, before we even get to be shot up by the Frigate. I've seen Ewoks with better tactical sense]

Raiven looked at his sensors and rapidly ran through the timing of the attack in his mind. The pirate fighters would be on him around the time for him to launch his torpedoes, so he throttled back to half power for fifteen seconds to allow them to reach him sooner.

[And now you're slowing down. Great thinking, sithspit-for-brains!]

"You ever considered a career as a military oppressor? You're about as comforting as the average Stormtrooper."


At 2.5 clicks out, Chacal and Oso opened fire with their torpedoes as their wingmen volleyed off their remaining concussion missiles, even as the two fighter forces ran headlong into each other.

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