Beyond - Legends X-Wing: Fleet Action - The Thrawn Campaigns (Rogue Squadron during The Last Command) (X-wing novel)

X-Wing: Fleet Action: The Thrawn Campaigns
Summary: What Rouge Squadron was up to during Thrawn's offensives in The Last Command. Weaves in and out of that book, ties the two series together and fills in details we didn't get to see from The Last Command.
Characters: Rouge Squadron's cast from the X-wing series, plus Thrawn and Pelleron of course, and a (non-pilot) semi-background OC later on who isn't the focus of the story.
Genre: X-Wing, very much X-Wing.
Notes - This takes place entirely within the Legends continuity for both series of books, and the larger Legends continuity as well, and outside of where necessary (Isard's Revenge mostly) almost completely fits neatly within Legends Cannon. This is a novel that could have be written but never officially was.

(Back Cover)
It is a different kind of war. With Grand Admiral Thrawn’s recovery of the nearly 200 Dreadnaughts of the lost Katana fleet, he has launched massed offensives that that threatens to topple the fledgling New Republic. Gone are the small skirmishes of the previous five years. Now massive battlefleets clash in a hundred systems. As Rogue Squadron fights among the capital ships, an enigmatic leader emerges while Wedge Antilles faces a personal crisis. As Thrawn’s genius drives the New Republic back on all fronts in defeat after crushing defeat, all will be on the line at the climatic battle of Bilbringi.

Tying together the Rogue Squadron series with The Last Command of the Thrawn Trilogy, and full of nonstop fighter and capital ship action, welcome to the front lines of the Thrawn Campaigns.


Dramatis Personae

Rouge Squadron
One Flight
One: Commander Wedge Antilles (human male from Corellia)
Two: Lieutenant Tal’dira (Twi’lek male from Ryloth)
Three: Captain Tycho Celchu (human male from Alderaan)
Four: Lieutenant Gavin Darklighter (human male from Tatooine)

Two Flight
Five: Lieutenant Avin Farris (Human male from Brentaal)
Six: Flight Officer Brut Jen (human male from Corellia)
Seven: Lieutenant Derek “Hobbie” Klivian (human male from Ralltiir)
Eight: Lieutenant Rhysati Ynr (human female from Bespin)

Three Flight
Nine: Lieutenant Corran Horn (human male from Corellia)
Ten: Flight Officer Ooryl Qyrgg (Gand male from Gand)
Eleven: Lieutenant Asyr Sei’lar (Bothan female from Bothawui)
Twelve: Flight Officer Inryi Forge (human female from Kessel)

Executive Officer: Captain Nawara Ven (Twi’lek male from Ryloth)

Corran’s R2 unit: Whistler
Wedge’s R5 unit: Gate


New Republic High Command

Admiral Ackbar (Mon Calamari male from Mon Calamari)
Senator Bel Iblis (human male from Corellia)
Councilor Borsk Fey’lya (Bothan male from Bothawui)


New Republic civilians

Mirax Terrik Horn (captain of the Pulsar Skate)

 

This story will be posted in installments of 1-2 chapters at a time once a week, late in the week. Should have made that more clear earlier. There's a lot of chapters.

 

Chapter 1

“Commander Antilles, you're a glory hound!"

Wedge Antilles didn't know why those words bothered him so much, but they cut straight to his soul.

An obnoxiously drunk General Whitbir had just said them, the head of training at Celec Base, home of one of New Republic Starfighter Command's training academies.

"General, sit down!” an aide exhorted quietly, trying to avoid drawing farther attention.

Wedge was at a party thrown by Admiral Hays, in charge of the base. He didn't know why there was a party, but as he was invited they were staying there for a day, he didn't see any reason not to attend.

"Showing up here in middle of a war just to lord it over everybody,” the general said as he shook an unsteady finger at Wedge.

The Bulk Carrier that was transferring Rogue Squadron from one side of the New Republic to the other after the battle of Filve had to stay there that long for fuel and minor repairs to a leaking hyperdrive, so while Thrawn had just launched the first of what looked to be the first of many offensives, for the moment they were out of the war.

"It's all about him, and nobody else," the general continued.

Wedge had no idea that the rest of Rogue Squadron wasn't invited, nor that the whole point of the party was to showcase him for Admiral Hays, who for whatever strange reason seemed to practically worship Wedge.

"Can't resist the opportunity to show off." General Whitbir continued to blather loudly.

Admiral Hays had insisted on letting Wedge and two of his pilots fly Opp Force against a group of trainees after trying out the gunnery range. It sounded like a better idea than sitting around all day with nothing to do. Wedge had naturally picked Tycho and Corran. They had flown their best on the range. It was only after they landed that Wedge had learned he had gotten a prefect score, 6000 out of 6000, for the first time ever. He hadn't been told what Tycho and Corran had gotten, but they must have exceeded 4000 if not 5000.

"Has to prove he's better than everybody else," the general piled on, as another of his asides tried to gently tug him back into his chair.

Wedge didn’t know they would be flying Opp Force against an entire wing, 36 starfighters. Or that it was a bomber wing, and that the intermediate-level trainees were still flying retired Y-wings, only transferring to B-wings for final training. They had made liberal use of their proton torpedoes with training warheads, accounting for 13 of them that way. The three of them had "destroyed" all 36 without any of the three of them getting shot down. But the badly inexperienced bomber trainees in grossly inferior craft just didn't know what they were doing. They hadn't so much fought them as slaughtered them.

Shooting down the General’s trainees in a pointless exercise had not sat well with him.

"Wearing his fancy dress uniform covered in medals half of which he didn't fully earn,” the drunken general poured on his asides tugged him to his wobbling feet.

The party invitation had specified full medals, not just ribbons, which Wedge found strange but had complied. He had only worn his dress uniform twice before since Rogue Squadron had been reformed two years previously, at Corran's funeral and the speech publically exonerating Tycho, and never with full medals. His dress uniform was pristine, a natural result of only ever being worn twice from otherwise staying in its box. The combined weight of his medals tugged at his uniform, making it rather uncomfortable. When Wedge arrived at the party he was humiliated to realize that everyone else was wearing ribbons.

"New Republic propaganda needed a hero, and made you one. They blow everything you do all out of proportion," the general drunkenly thundered on as his aids dragged him away.

Admiral Hays had asked him to tell him about some of the hardest fights they had been in, and he had naturally done so.

The door closed behind the drunken general as his staff dragged him out of the room.

Wedge had fought for ten long years, and had endured the worst the Empire could throw at him. He had earned awards aplenty during that time, but rarely put much thought into it. Hard campaigns, lost battles, failed plans, and far, far too many lost comrades he could deal with. But being stuffed, mounted and put on display as a medal-hungry showoff for people’s admiration violated every way he thought of himself and went against everything he stood for.

As Admiral Hays tried to get the party back on track, Tycho turned to Wedge. Assuming every member of the squadron had been invited, Tycho had opted to show up with him, and no one had turned him away.

"Wedge, are you alright?"

"No, not really. I'm leaving."

"I leave with you than."

"It's not necessary."

"No really, I insist."

"Fine."

As they walked out, an aide walked up to him, profusely apologizing, but Wedge ignored him.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------



"Wedge, don't let it get to you," Tycho told him. They were both in Wedge's quarters aboard the freighter. Wedge was on the verge of a breakdown, slumped on the edge of his bunk, Tycho comforting him. He had changed back into his regular duty fatigues, his medals discarded.

"It was the alcohol talking, not him, and you couldn't possibly have known what the party was about, or how the Admiral practically hero-worships you. He’s the one who put you on display today. It wasn't anything you did."

"What if he's right, though?" Wedge replied, nearly at the point of tears.

"Wedge, I've known you for nine years. I've been with you since just after Yavin. Nothing he said for true."

"I'm the one who showed up with medals on," Wedge said.

"It's not your fault that you misread the form. We're front-line pilots. We hardly ever get those. It was an easy enough mistake to make."

"But I'm the one who made it."

Wedge gestured over a small table, his medals scattered across it. On it were three Correlian Crosses, eight Mantooine Medallions, five Stars of Alderaan, a Coruscant Star of Valor and a Kalidor Crescent, a medal specifically for pilots with four embellishments pinned to it to denote repeated awards. Off to the side was a mound of ribbons for various commendations from superiors, Badges of Merit with their bronzium disks, and campaign service awards that had accumulated over the years. He had stopped mentally keeping track of those.

"How could anyone possibly earn all of those?" Wedge asked, his eyes watering.

"The Kalidor Crescent with Bronze Clusters, Silver Talons, Golden Wings and Diamond Eyes?" he continued. "That means it got given to me five times. Only two other pilots from the Clone Wars got the fourth embellishment, and nobody's ever going to be awarded the last one, the Silver Scimitar."

"The Coruscant Star of Valor was awarded to everyone involved in the liberation of the plant," Tycho pointed out. "You by definition earned it."

"But I didn't so much as fire a blaster."

"But you're the one with the foresight to send me there and buy six Z-95's," Tycho snapped back.

"If you hadn't of done that, Rogue Squadron would all be dead and Coruscant would still be in Imp hands, and the New Republic wouldn’t be the legitimate government of most of the Galaxy."

"But the rest of them?" Wedge replied, a tear beginning to run down his cheek.

"You earned a Correlian Cross for blowing up the second Death Star, Lando got one too," Tycho replied. "One of those Stars of Alderaan was awarded to everybody who took part in the assault on the first Death Star. Luke got the Correlian Cross too since he's the one who blew it up, and Solo and his copilot got both got a star for shooting Vader off his back. Another Star of Alderaan was given to everyone who took part in the run on the second Death Star. I got one there too, after all."

"But Diamond Eyes on the Kalidor Crescent?"

Tycho picked Wedge's Kalidor Crescent off the table and turned it over.

"It's for, and I quote from the back of the one I'm holding, "A demonstration of superior piloting skills and exceptional heroism at extreme risk of one's own life." If anyone's earned Diamond Eyes, it's you."

Wedge slumped even farther on his bed, not feeling any better from Tycho's words.

"Nothing he said was true. Get some sleep, and you'll have forgotten about it by morning."

 

Chapter 2

Three one-thousands of a light year outside of the Rethis system, Pelleron stood on the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera as the timer slowly counted down. Outside, the task force was barely visible under the light of distant star. For once, the Grand Admiral was foregoing his normal pattern of multiple diversionary attacks before the main strike, forcing the Rebels to commit ships elsewhere than the main target. Instead, the entire task force would attack a single system of importance.

But as it was Thrawn commanding, that did not mean it was the target system. Pelleron had been given he attack plan a short time ago, and parts of it didn't quite make sense.

As if reading his thoughts, Thrawn turned toward him. "I take it you're wondering about the current operation?" Pelleron looked guilty for a moment, before steadying himself.

"Yes sir, actually I was. I understand acting as if we're about to hit Rethis with everything is to allow the entire Rebel fleet defending Carida to sortie to oppose us, and once they've gone to hyperspace we go to Carida, but the actions afterwards don't make much sense."

"Meaning," Thrawn replied evenly, his glowing red eyes half closed.

"We'll have an hour and a half after we arrive at Carida before the Rebel fleet realizes they've been had and can get back to Carida. Why not reduce the defense platforms then instead of just waiting for the Rebels to show up?"

"Admiral Odrol has proven to be quite the artist. Poor quality, but quite revealing of his personality. And what is shows is quite distinctive.”

Plenty of art for Thrawn to study. This should be quite the victory. The Chimaera went to lightspeed.

 

Chapter 2 (cont.)

Rogue Squadron dropped out of hyperspace exactly two seconds earlier than Whistler had predicted, but Corran wasn't particularly surprised. A quick glance around confirmed what he already suspected - off to his right was an Imperial Interdictor Cruiser. Dead ahead, as the rest of the New Republic task force dropped out of hyperspace around him, was the Imperial fleet. The battle for the Carida system was on.

He was already annoyed at having been had by Thrawn once again. Rogue Squadron was part of a fleet defending the Carida system, which could be a springboard for attacks into the Core worlds themselves. In the last hour and a half the entire fleet had raced to defend Rethis, discovered that the Imps had left and were attacking Carida itself, and raced back to find themselves back where they began.

Corran was expecting to see the Imperial fleet mildly damaged from engaging the Golan-II defense platforms that ringed the planet, than turned around to fight the New Republic fleet. To his surprise, the defense platforms were intact, and a fully intact Imp force between them and the planet.

Nor were the Imperials arranged they way Corran expected. That's certainly an odd formation,he thought. The Imperial fleet was arranged in a line perpendicular to them, with a pair of Imperial-II Star Destroyers and an older Victory on the extreme right. To their left was a row of four Katana-fleet dreadnaughts, followed by a pair of Carrack-class cruisers. To the left of them were a quartet of Strike Cruisers, with an Imperial-I and another Victory star destroyer anchoring the far end.

Listening in on the main fleet comm, The Admiral’s orders seemed odd as well. Most of the New Republic capital ships engaged the cluster of Star Destroyers on the right, talking up a position right in front of the Dreadnaughts and Star Destroyers. A pair of star cruisers, one of which Corran recognized as the Mon Eava, Rogue Squadron's current home, along with an Assault Frigate attacked the pair of star destroyers on the far end.

"Listen up Rogues," Wedge's voice came over the comm. "Our orders are to escort Victory Wing and keep the TIE's off them while their B-wings assault Imp capital ships."

"Copied one," Corran replied.

"I copy as well," came the voice of Avin Farris, commander of Two Flight.

And here come the TIE's. Three squadrons of Starfighters came at them from dead ahead, while a squadron of Interceptors circled around from the right.

Corran focused on his small part of the battle. Two of the TIE squadrons had split off to focus on the B-wings. A pair of Starfighters closed to from dead ahead. They both opened fire on Corran from extreme range, their hits creating a light show against his forward shields, but doing little damage from that distance.

I know what you're up to. You want to distract my targeting. Too bad for you I know that. Corran broke hard left, than turned to the right. "Ten, cut right and get behind them!"

"Copied, Nine."

The lead TIE turned to follow Corran, getting in the way of its wingman. It's wingman tried to circle outside, as the lead eyeball began to bring its laser cannons to bear. Corran broke right, putting the leader between him and his wingman.

Red laser bolts shot in, hitting the leading TIE in the side dead center. Its port Quadanium steel armored solar panel separated, breaking into pieces as the TIE spun to the left. More laser bolts hit the rear of the cockpit ball, which exploded completely in an orange fireball.

Its wingman broke left to avoid a collision with the debris, the shortest possible route. But that put its tail directly in front of Ooryl.

He opened up again, laser bolts slicing straight through the rear of the cockpit and out the front. Another bolt melted off a corner of the port-upper solar panel, and the pilotless TIE slowly drifted off course.

"Nice shooting, Ten."

"Rogues, take a look at the battle," Wedge's voice came in with concern.

What Corran saw of the fleet wasn't good. The faster Strike Cruisers had curved around to encircle the concentrated New Republic fleet from the left, the slower Carrack’s making a smaller move to make a solid line in their segment, while the Star Destroyers moved forwards to encircle them on three sides. The slow and unmaneuverable Dreadnaughts didn't have to move at all. As Corran watched, a pair of Star Destroyers came out of hyperspace above the New Republic fleet, quickly followed by three more below, than eight Dreadnaughts came out of hyperspace directly behind them, forming a ball of ships surrounding the Republic fleet.

How in the galaxy did they manage those jumps so precisely? And how did we fall so perfectly into this trap?

"All starfighters, take out the Interdictor or we'll die here!" a noticeably panicked voice came over the comm on the rarely used general frequency.

Is that the Admiral? Sounds like it. Never heard of an Admiral panicking before, but I guess with Thrawn now anything's possible.

"Alright Rogues, you heard him. We're following Victory Wing in."

As he turned toward the Interdictor, Corran's heart sank. Two Escort Carriers had dropped out of hyperspace near the Interdictor, and five squadrons of TIE Starfighters were already heading their way, while Interceptors were launching from both carriers.

"I don't like this, One."

"We're not the only ones here, Nine."

Corran saw at least another 20-odd X-wings off to their left, and around two wings worth of B-wings were starting to come up behind them. Around 30 A-wings was pulling ahead. The eyeballs engaged them in a swirling mass, while six squadrons of Interceptors passed them by, heading straight at them. Two of the squadrons split off to engage the other X-wings, while three headed straight for them.

Corran closed in for a head-on pass against the closest TIE. Opening up at extreme range, it took the squint by surprise, melting off part of its port solar panel off before it broke right.

Its wingman followed, and Corran shoved the rudder left and opened fire on it broadside. Angry red laser bolts shot out from Corran's X-wing, melting away most of the left-upper armor. As it struggled to try to make a break, Corran tracked his fire to follow it.

"Nine! Ten! Break left now!"

Corran immediately broke, narrowly missing a hail of green fire from a pair of Interceptors that shot past. A few bolts hit his aft shield, but for now it held.

Corran looked back, in time to see Ooryl break, but it brought him into the path of another pair of Interceptors. Before Corran could send a warning, they opened fire.

Ooryl's fighter was hit hard, flames bursting from it aft. As the flames quickly consumed more of the X-wing Ooryl ejected, right before it exploded in a ball of fire, his seat skirting the edge of the blast.

"One, Ten is EV!"

"Nothing we can do about it now, Nine."

"Eight is EV."

That's Rhysati Ynr!

Corran looked back at where Two Flight should be, just in time to see Avin Farris's X-wing's cockpit disintegrate under a hail of fire. The nose of his ship broke off, and the two halves separated, the rear section spiraling out of control trailing flames until it exploded.

There was no trace of the cockpit area.

“Six is EV,” Hobbie Klivian announced

There goes Brut Jen.

"Look at the B-wings!" someone Corran didn't recognize yelled.

Corran looked back, and his heart sank even deeper. Three Lancer-class anti-starfighter frigates were behind them. Designed specifically to destroy starfighters, each frigate mounted 20 gunnery towers, each topped by Seinar Fleet Systems quad laser arrays that gave each of them the firepower of 80 TIE's. They were fast enough that a Y-wing couldn't outrun it. Isolated pairs of proton torpedoes impacted them, but their shields held.

Less than half a dozen B-wings were left, all running madly back toward the fleet. As he watched two of them were vaped by one of the Lancers. Of the 20 X-wings he could only see a half dozen, and looking back ahead of him there weren't any A-wings in sight. But there were around 40 TIE starfighters, and they were heading toward them.

"All units, we surrender! All units, we surrender!"

Corran was shocked to hear the terrified voice of the Admiral.

Corran glanced at the fleet.

The two Star Cruisers that had engaged the far Star Destroyers at the beginning of the engagement were only lightly damaged, including the Mon Eava on which Rogue Squadron was based, although the Assault Frigate that had been with them was heavily damaged

The remaining ships were still surrounded by a sphere of Imperial Capital ships, and of the 25 they started with, only 7 were left.

A new, grim voice came over the comm.

"Belay that. All units able to, retreat. Repeat, all units able to retreat. All units unable to, punch a hole through the Dreadnaughts and try to get out of here."

"You heard that," Wedge's voice came over the comm. "We're blind jumping out of here. Rendezvous at Hijarna. Good luck."

Corran glanced down at his scope, seeing the were well clear of the Interdictor's gravy well cone, than looked back, only to see four Interceptors closing on his tail.

"What about our EV's?" Gavin's voice asked desperately.

"Nothing we can do, Four. GO!"

Corran pointed his X-wing's nose at empty space, his heart heavy, and pulled back on the hyperdrive lever.

 

Ooh, what a cool mix of Rogue action and Thrawn strategic brilliance! You have Pellaeon's honest questioning and Thrawn's cryptic answers down pat, especially with the artistic references. I love this timeframe in Legends, especially because it introduces the amazingly marvelous Mara Jade to the SW universe

 

Love to see the Legends characters. I am a Horn and Mara Jade fan

 

Forgot to mention - updates weekly late in the week.

 

Chapter 3


Pelleron watched from the bridge of the Chimaera as the last Rebel warship was taken out of action. Even by the standards of the last few weeks, this is impressive.

"Move into position to engage the defense platforms," Thrawn ordered. "And send out a truce-byte. Now that they've seen their defending fleet decimated, I suspect they dislike the idea of further resistance."

So now Carida is ours. A foothold in the Colonies, and potentially a springboard into the Core.

Pelleron thought for a second, than his curiosity got the better of him. "Where are we going from here?" he asked, then instantly realized he shouldn't have.

Thrawn smiled with obvious satisfaction. "We will simply hold here on this front for the time being, and shift our focus to other fronts. Maintaining a mid-sized fleet here will force the Rebellion to tie up multiple fleets of equivalent size guarding possible directions of attack into the core. Meanwhile we can withdraw some of the ships currently here for use on other fronts."

"Simply by holding this system, we cost the Rebellion far more ships than if we actually advanced from it," Pelleron replied in understanding.

"And in addition, the coming long period of inactivity here will lull the Rebellion into a false sense of security, making it all the more useful should it be used as a springboard for advances into the Core.

And should the Rebels try to retake it, we'll have plenty of warning from Delta Source, whoever Thrawn’s intelligence source in the Imperial Palace is, Pelleron thought to himself.


-----------------------------------------------


The next afternoon saw the Mon Eava put into Hijarna for repairs. Two days later, it was still there, joined by New Republic capital ships from other fleets and systems. The Rogues sat in the conman area in their quarters. All of them except Avin Farris, dead, and Ooryl, Brut Jen and Rhysati Ynr, left behind to be captured, had safely made in out. So had another Star Cruiser, an Assault Frigate, and somehow a Correlian Gunship, although it was so battered Corran had no idea how it was holding together. It was a devastating defeat, even without counting having lost the Carida system.

"Thrawn knew exactly what we would do," Inryi said absently. "How do you figure the Grand Admiral knew that?"

"You just said it," Nawara Ven, the squadron’s executive officer, replied, clearly dejected. He leaned back in his curved chair, typical of the flowing curves that marked the interior of Star Cruisers, and put one of his brain tails over his shoulder. He had been devastated by Rhysati Ynr’s loss, and showed no signs of recovering anytime soon. "He's a Grand Admiral. They're infallible."

"No they're not," Wedge butted it. "They can be defeated. Just not often."

"We would have been better off running and letting Thrawn have the system. At least would wouldn't have lost a fleet," Inryi mused.

"That's Imp propaganda talking, Inryi. If we adopt an attitude like that than we've already lost," Wedge snapped back. “That's why the Empire put it out," he added grimly.

Asyr stroked her black fur. "I don't think Thrawn actually did know what we were going to do," she added thoughtfully. "He knew what the Admiral was going to do. And that's all he really needed."

"Asyr?" Wes Janson asked. "Don't you have some contacts in Bothan Intelligence you can use, to find out if they have any idea how he does that?"

"I destroyed all my hyperdrives with them a long time ago when I decided my loyalty was with Rogue Squadron," Asyr replied. "It's not worth using whatever I might have left for idle curiosity."

"Wedge, couldn't you just pull rank and look at whatever Intelligence says yourself?" Wes asked, refusing to admit defeat.

"I'm just a Commander," he replied. "I wouldn't be cleared for that. Besides, it would be need to know."

Wedge looked up at the ceiling, thinking out loud.

"Although Luke or Han might know, and they'd probably share if I ever run across them, and Councilor Organa might bend the rules if I asked her in person, but..."

He looked back down, no longer thoughtful.

"Well really none of you are need to know either. If I told everybody yesterday the Empire would know what we know within the next few days."

"I understand," Wes replied disappointed.

“Since we’re being transferred to the Ord Mantell front, we might find out ourselves,” Asyr put in. “All indications are that Thrawn’s content to sit tight at Carida for a while, but there’s a half dozen sectors on that front Thrawn’s eyeing stretching all the way to Ithor.”

"Although Corran, you might be glad to know the Pulsar Skate is due in any time now, so at least you'll get to see Mirax," Wedge added as an afterthought. “She’s just in time, in half an hour the Mon Eava is going to lightspeed.”

As if reading his mind, a muted announcement came over the ship's speakers.

"MEDICAL TEAM TO THE HANGER BAY. MEDICAL TEAM TO THE HANGER BAY."

"Wonder what that announcement is all about?" Gavin asked absentmindedly.

A small terminal built into on the wall sounded a tone. Hobbie Klivian, who was closest, reached over to check it. "Intercom from the hanger bay," He said. "Mirax must have just landed."

Corran felt a sudden cold fear. "Do you think she's hurt?"

"Well put it on and find out," Inryi snapped back.

As Hobbie turned on the intercom, Corran was relived to hear Mirax's voice.

"Good news," Mirax said. "Is the rest of the squadron with you?"

"Affirmative on that Mirax."

"Than I'll come up and share in person."

Corran spent the next two minutes wondering what news Mirax had before she walked into the conman area.

"Corran!" Mirax exclaimed as the door slid open. She ran up to him, hugging him and kissing him deeply on the lips. Pulling herself away, she quickly went over and gave Wedge a hug, than kissed him on the cheek. "Good to see you to, Wedge."

"So what's the good news?" Gavin asked.

"I came across the site of the battle a few hours after it ended. I picked up a homing beacon from a New Republic ejection seat, and I found Ooryl."

"You have him!" Corran blurted out.

"He apparently turned his tracking beacon and life support off while the Imps were picking up pilots. I'm assuming Gands don't need it for a few hours in a vacuum. By the time I showed up he'd turned it back on. Rhysati Ynr’s beacon was damaged, so she didn't get picked up by the Imps either, but Ooryl was able to show me where she ejected and which way she went, and I got close enough to get a weak signal. I took them to Odeth two days ago.

"Hooray!" Gavin yelled.

"Rhysati’s alive," Nawara said in relief, sinking into his chair as if the mass of a moon had been lifted off his shoulders. "I thought I'd lost her." Than he suddenly seemed to panic.

"Wait, where is she?" Nawara asked in concern, sitting bolt-upright.

Mirax's smile faded. "It's not all good news though. Rhysati’s air supply must have had recently run out not long before I picked her up. She's alive, but has some light neural damage. The medical tech suggests she'll be recovering for around a month before she's able to fly again."

Nawara sunk back into his chair.

"And Corran?" Mirax added.

"Yes?" he replied. What more bad news is there?

"Ooryl won't be flying as your wingman anytime soon. He's going to have regrow both feet and four of his fingers. He can do that, but he'll probably be out for a month too. Until then, he'll be stuck in a hoverchair."

Sithspawn.

"There is one good thing though. I figured they should be recovering with you, and since I've got a fast ship, the docs agreed to let me serve as the medical transport. They're both on their way to the medical bay now."

At least I get to see him.

A thought suddenly emerged to Corran. “Wait, what about Brut Jen?”

“What about him?” Mirax replied with a touch of confusion.

“He was EV too. Did you pick him up?”

Mirax’s fair skin went pale. “There wasn’t any sign of any additional pilots. The Imps probably have him, she replied sadly. “Probably did by the time I showed up,” she added softly.

The feeling of relief in the room slowly sank away.

After an uncomfortable silence, Corran spoke up. "So I suppose we'll be flying three down for the next month?" he asked.

"No, we won't" Wedge replied sternly. "There's already three new pilots headed our way to make up losses."

"So what happens when they recover?" Corran asked.

"I'll figure that out than. I can probably get two of the new pilots bumped, but I have a feeling that might not be needed," Wedge replied.

"What do you mean by that?" Corran asked.

"Don't ask."

What is he talking about? Corran thought. "Are we going to get to train together?" Corran asked. I can hope.

"We won't," Wedge said grimly. "Every squadron is needed at the front right now. We could probably squeeze in some simulator time, but the first flying we'll do will probably be a combat mission."

Sithspawn! With a brand new wingman?

Wedge must have noticed something in Corran's expression.

"We'll be combat effective as soon as they show up. We're also combat effective now." Wedge added. If the Mon Eava goes into combat, we're going with it."

Trying to break the tension, Mirax spoke up.

“By the way Wedge, how many kills yesterday?"

"Seven. Four eyeballs and three squints." Wedge replied.

"I believe that marks another full Starfighter squadron?" she asked.

"That it does."

Mirax reached over and gave Wedge a kiss on the cheek. "Have they been painted on yet?"

"I don't think so. The techs had to paint over the single markings first."

"I'll paint them on for you in the morning, if you'd like."

"In the morning? It's only 17:30.”

"And Corran?" Mirax asked, smiling mischievously and putting her hand on her hip. "You wouldn't happen to be able to show me to your quarters, would you? We've haven't spent enough time together there recently..."

 

Chapter 4

Late the next morning the squadron was assembled in the hanger as a quartet of X-wings piloted by their new squadron mates landed. They set down in the space the Pulsar Skate had vacated half an hour previously when the Mon Eava had dropped out of hyperspace at Odelih, two sectors along the front rimward of Ord Mantell. Now Rogue Squadron was part of the Kordu sector fleet. Corran tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. The first pilot they recognized immediately as he climbed down the ladder from his cockpit.

"Bror Jace?"

"In the flesh. Thyferra was getting boring, and when I heard Rogue Squadron needed new pilots in the middle of everything Thrawn's up to, I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

I'm not sure I'm that glad to see you, Corran thought.

The second pilot, a human male with blond hair, spoke up. “Wes Janson reporting for duty once again.”

“Nice to see you back in Rogue Squadron,” Wedge replied. “But shouldn’t you be training pilots now more than ever?”

Wes sighed. “First, it had gotten boring, and second… They’re asking the impossible. I can’t train pilots to standard at the rate Starfighter Command demands.”

The third pilot, a Quarren female, introduced herself, shaking each of their hands in turn. “I'm Lyyr Zatoq. Glad to be selected for this unit.

"So how long have you been flying?" Corran asked.

"A year," she replied. "Looking forward to my first fight."

This is who we got as a new pilot?

"And I'm Khe-Jeen Slee," a male Issori introduced himself. "Also looking forward to seeing combat for the first time"

"Please tell me you've been flying longer," Corran asked.

"Hay, I graduated third in my class at the flight Academy," he replied with a touch of anger. "And I've been flying freighters for three years now.

"And I was fourth," Lyyr added.

“As for assignments, Bror Jace, you’re Rogue Five again. I believe I can trust you with command of Two Flight again?”

“Certainly,” Bror Jace replied.

“Lieutenant Janson, you’ll be Rogue Six once again. You’re on Bror Jace’s wing.”

“With what I’ve heard, I’m flying wing to a skilled pilot at least,” Janson replied with a hint of a sigh.

“Look on the bright side,” Wedge replied. ”On a Star Cruiser you don’t have to share quarters.”

Flight Officer Khe-Jeen Slee,” Wedge continued, “You’re Rogue Eight. You’ll Have Lieutenant Klivian’s wing. “Fight officer Lyyr Zatoq, you’re Rogue Ten. You’ll have Lieutenant Horn’s wing.

What is going on? We get stuck with these two?

"Wedge, can I talk to you in private for a minute?" Corran asked.



"I take it you have a problem with the new pilots?" Wedge asked Corran as he closed the door to the stockroom off the hanger they were in.

"There aren't elite pilots. They're right out of flight school. And they aren't even the top two!"

"That's the last I time I want to hear that," Wedge snapped. "They're the best available right now. The New Republic doesn't have the luxury of transferring its best pilots around any more. The alternative is flying two fighters down. Do you want that?"

Wedge noticed that Corran's expression showed he was considering which answer to give.

"On second thought, don't answer," Wedge replied enraged. “I'm telling you don't want that. The New Republic is fighting for its life right now, and needs every pilot it can get, no matter have skilled or not they may be. You better get used to it, because we're almost certainly going to lose more people soon. Casualty rates haven't been this high since Endor. You are going to treat them as if they were any other member of the squadron, no matter how long serving. If I hear anything else about this, or if I even think you're treating them differently, that's the last you're ever hear of being in command of Three Flight, and you won't get to be wingman to Asyr or Inryi either. Is that Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now go out there and get to know your new squadron mates."

 

Apologies for chapter 3, it's probably the worst-written chapter in the story and could have used a replacement.

 

Chapter 5

It was mid-afternoon before they were able to get to the first simulator training session. It had taken several hours to get the new pilots settled in their quarters. Corran had spent four hours in his quarters getting caught up on sleep.

All of Rogue Squadron was in the training room on the Mon Eava. There were 24 simulators, but four of them had been reserved for members of a bomber squadron, and others would be needed for the opposition pilots. So Two Flight and Three Flight would be flying together.

The hood closed over Corran's simulator cockpit. The cockpit came to life, and the displays showed a black field sprinkled with stars. "Prepare to go to lightspeed," Bror Jace said.

"Shooting you the calculations now," Inryi replied.

The Rogues went into hyperspace, and a few seconds later the tunnel of light coalesced back into pinpricks of light.

"There's the convoy, dead ahead," Corran said.

"And the Nbulon-B," Hobbie Klivian added.

The scenario would be a simple one, based on countless raids the Rebellion had engaged in before Endor. The Rogues would shoot up a convoy defended by an Escort Frigate in a hit and run, along with four B-wings.

Since there were only 24 simulators available to use, and 12 of them were needed for pilots to fly TIE's, as a compromise there would be eight Rogues and the four Bomber pilots. Rogue Squadron would keep the TIE's off the bomber's tails and assist them in shooting up the convoy if they could, before they all fled into hyperspace. The normal two squadrons of TIE's a Nbulon-B carried were "balanced" for the number of pilots in the exercise.

"TIE's are launching," Corran said. This should be fairly straightforward.

Suddenly MISSION END came up on Corran's display. The screens went dark, and somebody else opened the hood with a hiss of compressed gas.

"What gives?" Corran asked with irritation as the bright light flooded his eyes.

"No tine for training," Tycho said grimly. "We're going into real combat now."

Corran suddenly noticed the general quarters klaxon was going off. Sithspawn! Going into combat with a new wingman and no training!

"It would take too long to get to the hanger and get you turned around for real combat for the ship to wait on us. The rest of the Mon Eava's fighters have already launched, and we've already gone to lightspeed," Tycho added. "Get ready and get to the hanger."

"What's the situation?" Bror Jace asked as he reached the bottom of the steps up to his simulator.

"Don't know," Tycho replied. "Wedge should be getting a quick briefing right about now. Let go."

 

Chapter 5 (cont.)

15 minutes later, the Mon Eava dropped out of hyperspace. "Rogues, listen up," Wedge said as their fighters left the hanger.

“This is one of Thrawn's diversionary attacks. But ships have to be sent to fight them. Ackbar got the idea to send the captured Interdictor Black Asp our way, so we're responding heavier than we need to. I don't know how Thrawn will do at his main objective or even what it is, but at least the Imps are going to lose a couple ships each time they launch a diversionary attack. Either that, or they switch tactics."

Looking over, Corran saw the repainted Black Asp, a large red stripe down its spine and red panels on it's flank, with massive New Republic crests on both sides of the upper hull. Ahead of the rogues the Empire had seven Katana-fleet dreadnaughts, a Victory star destroyer and a Strike Cruiser.

Opposing this was the Mon Eava, two smaller Star Cruisers sand a trio of Assault Frigates. A pair of captured Carracks and a half dozen lesser ships rounded out the New Republic fleet.

Seven squadrons of B-wings had dropped out of hyperspace, six squadrons of X-wings already far ahead of the Rogues. Two more squadron of A-Wings were even father in front.

We're so far behind them since we had to launch once we got here. The rest came out of hyperspace themselves.

Three squadrons of TIE's were launching from the strike cruiser, two of Starfighters and one of Interceptors. Two more Starfighter squadrons launched from the distant Victory, and three Dreadnaughts were launching fighters.

"Rogues, here's our orders." Wedge said. "The rest of the X-wings will tackle the TIEs from the strike cruiser and Dreadnaughts. The A-wings are going after the TIE's from the Victory past them. The B-wings are going to hammer those capital ships. We're going to tackle whatever needs fighting once we catch up."

The Rogues had a lot of catching up to do, as they tried to pick up speed from the nearly zero they had launched with. The Republic capital ships were closing rapidly, but the faster fighters were far ahead.

Corran glanced down at his scope. The gravity well cone was slowly becoming more opaque, and three Dreadnaughts and the Victory went to lightspeed rather than stay and fight. The gravity well took full effect, trapping the Imperial fleet. Nice to see them on the receiving end for once.

The A-wings were far in front of the Rogues, up against the Imperial fleet, and the X-wings were closing in. The slower B-wings were slightly behind them, and the slower still New Republic warships were halfway between them and the Black Asp. Rogue Squadron was still closer to the Black Asp than the warships.

Whistler suddenly blurted out an urgent warning. Two Dreadnaughts and the Victory had emerged from hyperspace between the Republic capital ships and the Black Asp. A Lancer suddenly reverted to realspace just behind the Dreadnaughts, directly on top of the B-wings, than another one joined it.

And the third Dreadnaught came out of hyperspace directly on top of the Interdictor Black Asp. An Imperial Escort Carrier dropped out of hyperspace a short distance from the Interdictor.

Sithspawn! Corran glanced down at his scope. They all got yanked out of hyperspace by the Black Asp! They're using our Interdictor against us!

"They're after the Black Asp," Wedge said grimly. "We're the only ones close enough to help. Our orders are to do whatever it takes keep it alive and undamaged for two minutes until it can shut down is gravity well projectors and get ready to get out of here."

As Rogue Squadron came around, they saw that the Escort Carrier was launching TIE bombers. Lots of TIE bombers. The Black Asp was shooting back at the Dreadnaught with everything it had, and its forward shield was holding for the moment. Looking down at his scope, Corran saw it was only because it had diverted all it's shield energy to that arc, leaving the remaining arcs completely unprotected.

"Rogues," Wedge spoke up. "Black Asp reports they can keep that shield up just long enough to get its projectors powered down and hype. It's more maneuverable than that Dreadnaught, so it should have no problem keeping that shield toward it."

"But we have to keep those bombers off it. Even if one or two dupes get though and get free run of it, they'll pound those gravity well projectors from the sides with concussion missiles and we don't have a usable Interdictor. And the New Republic doesn't have the parts to fix it.

"Two Flight, One Flight," Wedge ordered as Rogue Squadron was practically on top of the bombers. "Stay between the Carrier and the Black Asp and block off those dupes. Three Flight, get ahead of them and pick off any that get trough."

Wedge looked at the lead bombers, and did some quick calculations. The first three will get within missile range from the side arcs before One Flight gets to them.

"Gate, mark the lead bombers as one, two and three, and paint them with missile locks."

Gate beeped an acknowledgment. The droid sounded a target lock tone.

"Target one, Fire." Another tone. "Target two, Fire." More tone. "Target three, Fire."

That should take care of them. Wedge saw that several of the bombers were roughly in a diagonal line. Closing in for a slashing attack from the right and above, he dove in.

The first few never knew what hit them.

Four red quad bolts red bolts hit the rear of the port weapon hull, which promptly exploded. Pulling back on the stick slightly and adding a bit of right rudder, the next dupe was hit in the center of the right Quadanium armored solar penal. Much of it melted away, as more fire sailed through and detonated the right engine.

Moving from one target to another, three more TIE bombers fell victim to Wedge's lasers. As the remainder of Rogue Squadron joined in, the battle was sharp and very one sided. But the dupes still outnumbered the Rogues six to one.

Suddenly Gate screamed out a warning. A bomber had succeeded in getting on lock on Wedge's fighter, and launched a concussion missile.

Wedge glanced back. "I see it, Gate," Wedge said. The range was close and time to impact equally short.

Six seconds to do something about it. Well here's something! He throttled back slightly, checked the position of the missile, than dove under a TIE bomber. Pulling the stick all the way to his chest, Wedge pulled up tightly behind the dupe. The faster concussion missile made a wider turn, before slamming into the bomber and exploding.

"Fancy flying, One," someone transmitted. With a flicker of pseudomotion, the Black Asp went to hyperspace. "Rogues, Black Asp is gone. Now lets clean up these bombers."

Wedge looked back. Five bombers were standing off at range almost stationary, trying for missile locks.

"I can't shake this missile!" Khe-Jeen Slee yelled. He glanced over in time to see the concussion missile hit dead center aft. Khe-Jeen had already lost his shields. The outer S-foils and the nose of his fighter spiraled away from the blast in all directions along with small bits of debris. There was no sign of an ejection seat.

We can't let them pick us off like that. "Two, on me. We're going after the bombers at bearing 173."

Wedge rolled, and headed straight for the bombers that were standing off. "Two, weave and don't let them get missile locks. Hit them with your lasers, they sleeping Nerfs and don't know it.

"One, I just lost double rear shields to one of those missiles," Tal’dira replied. A head-on run would just get him shot down.

"Belay that, then. Three?"

"Occupied at the moment," Tycho replied. Wedge looked back. Tycho was trying to get a clear shot on a dupe, while trying to keep another bomber from getting on his tail.

I guess I'm the attack front than. Wedge weaved tightly as he closed on the TIE bombers. They're still trying for missile locks.

Wedge opened up with a trio of duel bursts as his nose momentarily swung past directly at a bomber. Three red bolts missed, one seared a solar panel but two hit the connection between the double hulls. The TIE Bomber separated into two halves, as Wedge snapped off a few more shots at another dupe. One hit the center of the weapon hull, setting off the concussion missiles inside.

Another set of quick shots pierced the canopy of a dupe, which began slowly drifting. The last two TIE bombers realized their peril, and one opened fire with its lasers, while another tried to pull away.

Wedge went head to head with the dupe shooting back. I've got shields and you don't. The bright bursts on his shields hindered his view as he opened fire, aiming directly into the incoming fire. After a few shots Wedge broke right to avoid the remainder of the incoming fire. Glancing at where the bomber had been, there was nothing but debris.

The final dupe's attempt to turn away had put its tail squarely in front of Wedge. He took the easy shot and vaped it.

He looked around, taking stock of the battle. Around a dozen bombers were at range lining up on the hanger entry port of the Escort Carrier, their only way out.

Might as well cost the Imps a few more TIEs. Wedge quickly got torpedo locks and sent his last three proton torpedoes sailing after the dupes. Not as maneuverable at a normal TIE and at slow speed, none of the three targets had a chance.

Wedge checked out the wider battle. The Escort Carrier went to lightspeed the moment it recovered the remaining bombers. A crippled Dreadnaught drifted off in the distance. Six A-wings and around a dozen and a half B-wings were heading toward the New Republic fleet. At least the New Republic warships are all present.

"Control, what are our orders?"

"Control here. All the Imps have left. Our trap for Thrawn's faint is over. We’re heading back to Odelih."

 

Great action and nice to see Wedge and his squadron surviving

 

I really like the concept of this story and the way you take care to make it work within the Legends continuity. This is exactly the sort of fanfic I want to see more of -- looking forward to the rest of the chapters!

 

Chapter 6

The Rogues had gathered in the common area of their quarters on the Mon Eava, waiting for Wedge to return from his debriefing to figure out what had just happened. There were twelve of them there. Wedge's absence and Khe-Jeen Slee's death were balanced by Nawara's presence, while Ooryl was attending in his hoverchair.

The white ovoid door to the corridor slid open, and a grim-faced Wedge walked in, sitting down and slouching in an empty chair.

"What happened?" Inryi asked vacantly, moving some of her brown hair over her shoulder, the dyed blue streaks having long since been grown away.

"Ackbar's plan for using the Black Asp has been called off. The New Republic won't be using it to cost Thrawn any more diversionary forces. It's too valuable, and is being moved from the front into strategic reserve."

"In other words," Asser pointed out, "Thrawn gets to keep doing what he's been doing, and he achieved the same result as if he had destroyed the Interdictor."

"Exactly," Wedge replied grimly.

"How did our trap turn into their trap?" Inryi asked.

"Probably that cursed Delta Source traitor in the Imperial Palace," Corran snapped back. "Whoever it is, they've cost the New Republic more than enough already." Corran had his shields fail from a bomber's concussion missile, and another bomber had damaged his starboard/lower laser cannon. Since he had gotten back to the Mon Eava he had been in a foul mood.

"We don't know it's a traitor," Tycho replied. "For all we know it could be a droid or some exotic undetectable recording system. I believe my own case illustrates the dangers of paranoia."

"We were too busy with the dupes to keep track of everything else going on. What else happened there?" Gavin asked, trying to change the subject.

"Those Lancers ripped apart the B-wings. They were right in he middle of them, and every quadlaser got plenty of targets. Than they ripped up the X-wings, than went to hyperspace before our fleet could pound them. The TIE's from the Strike Cruiser and Dreadnaughts finished off the X-wings before ganging up on the A-wings. Once the Black Asp left and the fighters had been recovered, the rest of the Imps left."

"Was the escort carrier all TIE bombers?" Asyr asked. "That'd be pretty strange."

"All 6 squadrons," Wedge replied. "72 dupes. Thrawn must have had his trap set up for a while. It only failed since we weren't ready to launch before the Mon Eava went to lightspeed. Otherwise those dupes would have been all over that Interdictor like drool on a Hutt."

"I got nine," Corran added. "How many did you get, Lyyr?"

"Two," she replied.

"What about you, Wedge?" Corran asked.

Wedge looked at the floor, ashamed. "24."

Lyyr whistled. Wedge looked up.

"But none of that got through, and that's matters more. That was quite the flying we pulled off today."

Wedge's expression hardened. "More important is that we lost someone."

"Less than 12 hours from meeting them to dead," Inryi replied. "Is that a record for Rogue Squadron?"

"Close to it," Tycho replied sadly. "But he did get three dupes before he was killed, and even if he didn't, he goes with the rest of Rogue Squadron's hall of the dead."

"On the reverse of the holo, since the Imps retreated, 58 pilots who went EV were rescued," Wedge added.

"We can't keep losing fighters at that rate," Inryi replied softly.

"It's not as big a problem as you might think," Wedge added grimly. "We've generally been losing capital ships faster than fighters to put on them. But while it's easy to build fighters, it's takes longer to train quality pilots to fly them. The New Republic will run out of even halfway decent pilots before it runs out of cockpits to put them in."

"What was Thrawn's main target?" Asyr asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.

"The key industrial world of Dalath,” Nawara replied. "And it's little shipyard. Not a big yard, but the system fell, and Thrawn might be building a few strike cruisers there soon,"

"That's half a sector than," Inryi replied.

"And another place closer to the front to repair his ships," Corran snapped.

"Thrawn may well do that instead, at least for now," Nawara replied.

"How bad were our losses?" Wes Janson asked.

"Ackbar was there commanding himself," Nawara replied. "From what I've heard going around, light to moderate. Better than the New Republic has been doing, at least. The Imps also suffered some losses, and there's probably some of Thrawn's ships about to take advantage of his new little shipyard."

"Not only that, it seems they captured the planet completely intact." Bror Jace added.

The heads of most of the squadron suddenly snapped in his direction.

"That weapon that can shoot through shields Thrawn has again?" Corran asked with disgust.

"Actually no. Far simpler. The planetary governor decided after our fleet left that he liked being governor more than he liked being part of the New Republic. Probably Thrawn offered him a chance to simply switch sides, and he took it."

"Cursed traitor," Corran snapped.

"More like an opportunist who decided the political winds were blowing Thrawn's way," Wedge replied. "Once the New Republic driven out of a sector for good most of the systems throw themselves in with the Imps anyway."

"Wouldn't Dalath be a good jumping off point for an attack on Ithor?" Asyr asked.

"I'd have to check a nav computer," Tycho replied. "But I think so."

“At least by then we’ll be back at full strength,” Wedge stated. “We have a female Selonian Flight Officer, Ker Povelor who should be arriving in a few hours.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Three one-thousandths of a light year outside the Ithor system, the Imperial fleet stood ready. Pelleron looked out the bridge windows of the Chimaera. The rest of the fleet around the ship was was visible more from their running lights than from the faint light of the distant star.

Ithorians were one of the more common and peaceful species in the Rebellion. Proving that the Rebels couldn't hold even that planet would be a major blow to their legitimacy. An attack on the system had been in the works for a week. But Delta Source revealed that the Rebellion had learned of it, and that the Ithor Sector Fleet would be joined by elements of the Kordu, Alderath and Urce Sector Fleets to head to Ithor to oppose them.

So Thrawn had moved the timing of the attack forward by seven hours.

"Captain, is my flagship ready?” Thrawn asked.

The Chimaera is fully at your command, Admiral" Pelleron replied. Soon proper military protocol will once again be the order of the day for the galaxy.

 

Chapter 7

The proximity alarm sounded in the cockpit of Corran's fighter. The New Republic had solid intelligence of an upcoming Imperial attack on Ithor. The world was ringed by Golan defense platforms, but the Ithorians had no ground defenses and wouldn't fight on the ground, surrendering rather than damaging their Mother Jungle. So they were committing heavily with a large fleet, ready to receive Thrawn's attack.

But just in case, the fighters were coming in separately rather than sitting in the capital ship's hangers. As the timer ran down to zero Corran pushed the hyperdrive lever forward, and his fighter began to revert to realspace. The tunnel of stars began to resolve into pinpricks. Right on time, good. No Interdictors, and we'll be ready and waiting for the Imps. But why does something feel wrong? Is this is the Force, or just something ordinary?

Being Force-sensitive was more useful back when I didn’t know I was.

As his X-wing reverted to realspace and he scanned the area, Corran's relief proved misplaced - and his misgivings better placed.

The Imps are already here!

Ahead were two groups of imperial warships. They were evenly divided, both containing exactly one Imperial-II star destroyer in the center, two Imperial-I star destroyers flanking them, two Carracks to each side of them, and four Kanata-fleet Dreadnaughts to each side them, 14 ships in all each side.

Perfectly divided, and perfectly systematical.

"There Imps are already here waiting for us, One!" Gavin exclaimed.

"We know they've been getting information out of the Imperial Palace, Four. Must have decided to wait for us for some reason."

"Thrawn must have made a mistake here, One,” Corran replied. “We have 36 ships with twelve star cruisers and outgun the combined Imps three to two right now, and we can defeat them in detail." Looks like we'll win this one.

"Nine, look at how they're deployed,” Tycho replied. “Both groups are exactly the same, the ships are ordered in descending strength from the center, twice as many each step down. Thrawn's up to something, but I have no idea what."

Corran thought it over while waiting for Wedge to receive their orders, trying to figure out the reason for the odd formation. He didn't have any success.

"Rogue squadron, we're on the left group. We're to join and escort Krayt Wing in an assault on an Impstar-Deuce.

"One, I see an Interdictor at extreme range from the rightmost group," Asyr's voice said.

Corran checked his scope. It was much too far away to bring its gravity well cone on either group anytime soon. What's it doing that far out?

"There's another one mirror-holo off to the left," Tycho added.

"Eleven, Three, it's not a problem right now, but Thrawn probably has something up his sleeve. But it's not our problem. Fly well and hopefully we'll win this one."

"Or not," Inryi added with a touch of sarcasm.

Corran looked around. What is the Admiral thinking?

Instead of taking the obvious chance to defeat half the Imperial fleet by concentrating the New Republic fleet against it, he had decided to also split his forces evenly. At least both groups still have an advantage, but that's not likely to last long.

"That's the Admiral’s concern, Twelve. Focus on the job at hand."

"Copied, One."

"Four squadrons of eyeballs, coming our way," Tycho's spoke up.

"I see them, Three. With the B-wings it's even odds."

The TIE's split into pairs for the coming dogfight. Half the pairs went left, and the other half went right in a pincer.

Corran opted for the pair immediately to his right, closing as they broke left. Don't want to start head on. Don't blame them.

Corran circled to the left, linking his lasers to duel-fire. As they broke it opposite directions, he snapped off a quick burst. A glancing hit on the corner of the eyeball's armored solar panel melted part of it off, and he noticed the pilot was having control problems.

Corran pulled in on its tail. I have you now. He fired again, a pair of laser bolts striking it on the left side of the cockpit. The left engine burst into flames, and it spun out of control. The pilot started to get the spin under control, but abruptly the engine exploded, taking the rest of the TIE with it.

Whistler hooted a warning. Its wingman was nearly on Corran's tail. "I see it."

Corran broke left, straight for a nearby star cruiser. As the TIE followed, he dove under the warship’s stern, and started to pull up and around it.

As the trailing TIE dropped out of view behind the cruiser, Corran broke hard left and chopped the throttle all the way back. Shoving the rudder pedals left, the nose of his X-wing spun round as the fighter coasted.

Corran shoved the throttle forwards as his fighter rotated through 90 degrees. Mashing the rudder to the right, his X-wing's nose came back round, as he saw the TIE loop around the star cruiser, oblivious to Corran behind the bow of the cruiser.

He followed it, right on it's tail as he set his lasers to quad fire, wanting a quick kill. He's probably wondering where I went off to. Too bad for him he's about to find out.

Corran centered the aiming reticule on his HUD on its ball cockpit, and pulled the trigger.

Four red beams lanced out, obliterating the eyeball's cockpit in a ball of fire, it's armored solar panels spinning off in opposite directions. Whistler hooted in triumph. "That's right, scratch one eyeball."

"Rogue Squadron, our targets just went to lightspeed," one of the B-wing pilots transmitted. What is Thrawn up to?

He looked around. Corran saw the Quarren Lyyr Zatoq hot on the tail of a TIE, oblivious to another TIE solidly on her tail.

"Ten! Break left!"

Lyyr broke hard left, but the TIE followed her through.

"Must be one of those new hotshot clone pilots." Corran painted the TIE with a torpedo lock. His HUD blazing red, Corran sent off a proton torpedo, as he followed it straight at the eyeball.

The TIE opened fire on Lyyr, who belatedly tried to break right. Intent on vaping the X-wing, it didn't notice the torpedo until it was too late.

"Some things you can't clone," Corran said smugly.

"Nine! Break right!" Corran broke hard right as green bolts flashed by, a thump indicating one bolt had hit his rear shields. He looked back just in time to see Lyyr vape the TIE on his tail.

Whistler let out what sounded suspiciously like an electronic snort. "Yes, Whistler, I'll pay attention too from now on."

Glancing over, Lyyr Zatoq was on the tail of a TIE Starfighter. But another Starfighter was once again pulling onto her tail.

"Ten, Break right!" Corran yelled.

"I've got it," Lyyr replied. She opened fire, and the eyeball exploded.

"Got it," she replied.

Corran put all the power he had into his four Incom 4L4 Fusial Thrust Engines. But he was too far away. The eyeball behind Lyyr opened fire, green bolts crumpling her aft shields as Lyyr tried too late to break. The TIE on her tail did a reverse throttle hop and pulled out back on her tail.

Opening fire, the eyeball's green lasers pummeled Lyyr's aft fuselage. Her X-wing’s port/upper engine was shot off, taking the port/upper S-foil with it, the thrust imbalance sending her twisting her fighter up and left as a sheet of fire trailed from her X-wing.

“Ten, eject!” Corran yelled.

The TIE adjusted its aim, sending more angry green bolts into the stricken fighter. Lyyr’s ejection seat rocketed her away from her disintegrating fighter. The TIE ceased fire and pulled away, as the flames rapidly consumed the remains of Lyyr’s X-wing. A second later two small explosions broke it apart.

“Ten is EV,” Corran announced.

Corran tried to suppress his anger as he centered his aiming reticule on the TIE. Luke says killing in anger is the fast path to the dark side.

He pulled the trigger, and quad red bolts lanced the TIE's port armored solar panel. More bolts burned through and hit its port engine, which exploded sending the remains of the TIE spiraling away.

 

Chapter 7 (cont)

Corran looked around. Rogue Squadron and the B-wings were clear of TIEs for the moment.

But that was the only good news. The right half of the New Republic fleet was now caught between the Imperial ships that had been there, and two additional Star Destroyers, four Carracks, and half a dozen Dreadnaughts. As Corran watched four Strike Cruisers dropped out of hyperspace on either side at close range, quickly moving to surround the Republic fleet and launching fighters. The Imperial ships in the left group suddenly re-emerged from hyperspace at point-blank range, opening fire on the surrounded Republic ships.

How did they do that? Corran than answered his own question when he saw that a third Interdictor had dropped out of hyperspace much closer, pulled out by the end of the gravity cone of the farther one. The Republic fleet that had headed to the left was driving hard to the rescue of the remainder.

"New orders," Wedge said grimly over the comm. "We're to escort Krayt Wing to take out those strike cruisers and clear a path out."

As Rogue Squadron closed, Corran saw two squadrons of Interceptors launch from the Strike Cruisers, heading their way. Four more Dreadnaughts had dropped out of hyperspace, and interposed themselves between the two halves of the New Republic fleet alongside the Strike Cruisers. A squadron of A-wings was dogfighting with a different squadron of Interceptors. Another squadron of X-wings was closing from their left, B-wings trailing it, and one of the squadrons of squints split off to engage them. In and around the Imperial entrapment there were more wings of fighters and TIE's of all kinds fighting than he could count.

"Looks like we've only got one squadron to deal with, One."

"Ours alone though. We've got to keep the B-wings clear. We don't have time to let them get caught in a dogfight," Wedge's added.

"We've got five Interceptors coming in, ETA one minute, One" Asyr added. "Must be what's left over from another dogfight."

"Than we can kill these before we have to deal with them. If not, I'll solve your problem," Bror Jace interjected.

"Check your ego, Five, no you won't and you'll die if you do. We don't need to lose any pilots in a pointless blaze of glory."

"I copy, One," Bror replied with a touch of irritation.

As they neared weapon range, the squints suddenly converged to concentrate on Two Flight, situated between One Flight on their left and Three Flight on their right.

"Five, Six! Break right. Seven, Eight break left!" Wedge barked.

As two pairs of fighters crossed paths in opposite directions, the Interceptors split to follow both of them, One Flight and Three Flight turned inward, both of them now tailing six squints.

Corran picked out a squint in the middle of the group, trying for a torpedo lock. He was rewarded with Whistler’s target lock tone, and fired. If it doesn't kill him, it will keep him busy. The Interceptors, faster than X-wings, were pulling ahead and chasing down their half of Two Flight, nearly out of Three Flights weapon range.

"Three Flight, try for torpedo locks," Corran ordered.

Corran linked his lasers to dual fire, and shot off a long burst at extreme range at the second squint from the left. He missed, but two Interceptors broke off their pursuit of half of Two Flight, curving around in a wide arc to the left out of weapon range.

"Twenty seconds on the second group," Tycho transmitted.

A pair of Interceptors were closing fast on Hobbie Klivian and Ker Povelor. "Seven, Eight, break right!"

Hobbie broke hard right, followed more slowly by Povelor. Inryi and Asyr had both launched a torpedo, which were closing fast on their pair of TIEs. Corran's torpedo was only a few seconds from impact, all of the TIEs oblivious to their peril. Two of them were fusion-welded to Povelor's tail, side by side, and they both opened fire. She tried to evade, but eight combined laser cannons battered down her rear shields. The aft fuselage ripped apart into a yellow-orange fireball that consumed her X-wing, than slowly burned out.

"Three Flight, break now!" The other three pilots broke, as Whistler trilled a warning. Glancing back, Corran saw a pair of squints closing fast.

I have just enough time for a torpedo lock on the fourth squint before the first torpedo hits and they realize what's going on.

Whistler wailed a mournful version of the target lock tone, and Corran depressed the firing button.

Corran immediately pulled hard back and hard right on his stick, as green bolts shot past, several impacting his rear shields. Whistler screamed, and lights flashed on his console.

Sithspawn! My shields are down!

The Interceptors overshot, and Corran glanced over just long enough to see two TIE's vaped by Inryi and Asyr’s proton torpedoes. A dissipating cloud of incandescent gas marked the location of Corran's first target.

Whistler blurted out an urgent warning. Corran looked behind him to see that his break had brought him directly in front of the two squints that had circled round earlier.

He began to pull hard for a left break, but they were already firing. Corran was out of time.

A laser bolt hit the base of the port/lower S-foil, taking it clean off and taking a chunk of port-lower engine with it. As the engine cut out Corran's X-wing swerved hard left and down. Corran fought against the controls, but the unexpected movement had bought him a second of respite.

It was only enough time for his fighter to roll through another half circle. A pair of laser bolts hit broadside against the rear of both starboard engines, vaporizing their aftermost sections. Engine Fire alarms went off in the cockpit as Corran's X-wing continued spinning. Sithspawn!

Corran went for the emergency shutdown panel at the rear of the cockpit as fire trailed from the rear of both starboard engines, twisting forward in the cockpit before he could bring his arm around.

It was a good thing he did, as a blast knocked Corran forward. As he looked up and aft, he discovered that the upper rear wall of the cockpit was gone, along with half the canopy and a chunk up the upper fuselage almost to Whistler's socket.

A trio of hits from dead ahead shook the fighter. The port/upper engine was blasted clean away taking the port-upper S-foil with it, fire trailing from severed fuel lines. Another hit vaporized the starboard-upper laser cannon, while the third hit directly on the nose.

As Corran looked forward the fighter continued spinning, the trail of flames briefly searing Corran's helmet and burning his lower face through the MagCon seal.

This is it! "Eject!" Corran yelled, mashing the button enabling the droid ejection system, seeing that it was on and reaching down to pull the D-ring handle between his legs.

The rest of the canopy was blasted away, and G-forces slammed him in his seat as he rocketed away from his stricken X-wing.

Corran looked back, seeing flames trailing away from the areas of all four engines, and to his horror seeing that Whistler was still in his socket.

"Whistler!" Corran screamed into the empty vacuum past his helmet’s MagCon seal, but there was nothing he could do.

The fighter disappeared out of view behind his seat. With a feeling of utter helplessness, Corran took stock of his situation. He realized the burns on his face were painful. Very painful. At least his suit was still functioning normally.

He looked over to see what his last torpedo had done, just in time to see the TIE pull hard into a turn, the proton torpedo missing clean. Another Rogue took advantage of the opportunity, boring in and vaping the squint.

And completely pointless. Nothing to do now but watch the battle, and hope we win.

 

The battle didn't go well. As Corran watched, he saw the B-wings they had been escorting blast apart a Strike Cruiser, while the combined fire of the Republic capital ships destroyed another one and a Dreadnaught, opening a way out for the surrounded half of the New Republic fleet. At least we did our job.

But only six ships made it out of the encirclement, out of 18 that at the started within it, and the battle dissolved into a freewheeling melee. They were soon down to 20 ships from 36 they had started with, and had lost six of their twelve star cruisers. Well over 30 ships, including seven Star Destroyers and over a dozen Katana fleet Dreadnaughts pummeled away at them in a freewheeling melee.

Corran recognized the Star Cruiser that was the fleet's flagship, just in time to see the area of the bridge hammered by turbolaser fire, practically disintegrating in a ball of fire.

They can't run with those Interdictors there. As if reading his mind, The remaining 15 ships of the New Republic fleet made a last-ditch scatter maneuver, fanning out in every direction like the spray from a loose coolant pipe connection, with the pipe pointing straight at the Interdictors. The Interdictors can't keep its gravity well cone over all of them.

Twelve of them made it, jumping to lightspeed, the Mon Eava among them. The New Republic fighters followed them.

That's it, then. I'm captured, and it's all over.

The Imperial fleet regrouped, in no hurry to neutralize the Golan defense platforms that were well out of range. I always thought that if I died I would go out a hero. Not so pointless like this.

Forty-five minutes later an Imperial shuttle stopped next to him. Corran mulled over his options. He had already checked his blaster, only to discover a piece of derbies nearly cutting the grip in two. He had left his lightsaber back on the Mon Eava in his quarters, figuring it wouldn't be any use. If I could only overpower them, I could escape in that shuttle.

He felt a tug from a personal recovery tractor beam, and watched as it pulled him in toward an open hatch. He tried to undo his harness, but discovered the tractor beam made it nearly impossible to move. As he cleared the MagCon field into the interior of the shuttle, he eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness. This is it!

As Corran's eyes adjusted, he saw half a dozen blasters pointed right at him. Than he saw a blue blast come toward him, and had just enough time to realize it was a stun burst before he blacked out.


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Pelleron stood on the bridge of the Chimaera as Thrawn accepted the surrender of Ithor. "Another major Imperial victory," Pelleron commented. And another sector back in rightful hands.

"As predicted,” Thrawn replied. “When presented with two exactly equal options a Arkanian becomes indecisive, and they psychologically can't stand the thought of breaking up that that type of symmetry," he finished with obvious satisfaction.

 

Thanks! Also trying up some loose ends, like the EU collectively forgetting that the Black Asp existed. A bunch of my story ideas are "novels that could have been written but never were."

 

Apologies to everyone for then excessive editing. As of 6:20 central all the editing is over, and if you started before that you might want to check your place in the story.

 

(Sorry for the delay) Thanks! This is unabashedly an X-Wing novel, with all that entails. The irony is that the dialog was a last-minute edit since I wasn't happy with it. The thought "Thrawn is not Vader" was actually supposed to be cut, since Pelleron would know that by this point. Expect to see a lot more variety in the Rouge Squadron action coming up! The first few chapters are somewhat "the formula" and are a bit week as a result. The Wedge personal crisis arc from the first chapter begins soon.. Also expect to see more pure Thrawn-Pelleron scenes, including some that could have been in The Last Command but weren't, as this story weaves in and out of it. The time period of the X-wing novels and the Thrawn trilogy is my favorite time period as well.

 

Legends forever! Also very much a Mara Jade fan.

 

Just a piece of news - both this week's and next week's chapters are relatively short, and next week's will be posted in the middle of the week instead of late in the week.

 

Chapter 8

When Corran regained conciseness, he first realized he was shackled and manacled along with at least three dozen other New Republic pilots. Than he realized he was in the entryway/receiving area of an Imperial detention block.

An officer, tall and slim, wearing the uniform of Imperial Intelligence walked over.

"Name, Corran Horn," Corran said with defiance. "Rank..."

Corran reeled in agony as the Intelligence officer slapped his burned face.

"Not so fast," the Intelligence officer snapped. "You're sitting in the detention block of the Imperial Star Destroyer Conqueror. Here you play by my rules, and one of them is that you give me time to enter what you say in my datapad."

"You'll never get much from me.” Corran spat back with defiance. “I resisted brainwashing by Iceheart. I escaped from Lusankya.”

"Ah yes, I thought I recognized your name," the Officer said as he rubbed his chin. "You are quite the escape risk. Special precautions are certainly warranted in your case.

I wish I knew when to shut up.

"First, however, we must get you treatment for those burns. They aren't very bad, but without treatment will cause severe problems before your softening-up period is over. Stun him."


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Corran quickly discovered what those "special precautions" were. His legs were to be shackled to the floor of his cell at all times. Two guards were constantly in his cell, armed only with stun batons, so even if he were to overpower them he wouldn't gain a useful weapon. The only times he wasn't shackled was to be moved, and whenever that happened he was stunned first.

A quick interrogation was conducted on what seemed like his first day, presumably to gather anything immediately useful. He had no idea what he revealed, but Corran took small comfort that he didn't know anything of particular value that the Imps could gain. He tried casually chatting with the guards to gain any potentially useful information without them realizing it.

He learned he was on a Victory class star destroyer, and a vague idea of where in the ship his detention block was located, but that was about it. He also heard of several New Republic defeats, although whether that was true or not he couldn't tell.


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Corran was startled out of his sleep by what could only be a general quarters klaxon. At least I get to know what they sound like on an Imperial warship. A few minutes later, Corran heard the sound of the engines going to lightspeed. Was the ship surprised and had to run?

One of the guards spoke up. "Check you chrono. Bet you 10 credits we're in hyperspace shorter than 70 seconds."

"You're on," the other guard replied.

Since when do ships ever make hyperspace jumps this short?

"68, 69, 70, 71, 72" the second guard counted. Than Corran heard what could only be the ship coming out of hyperspace.

"74 seconds. You owe me 10 credits."

Corran had nothing to do but wait and listen to the battle. While he had fought alongside capital ships before, he had never been in one during a battle.

There were distant thundering sounds. You can actually hear the turbolasers! They soon went quiet, quickly replaced by louder thundering sounds. I bet the ship is engaged on the closer side now.

Soon there were sounds more like a muffled dull boom. Then louder ones. Corran felt the ship rock slightly. A quick swarm of a few dozen short and sharp, distant muffled bangs over a second or two. Was that a torpedo run? He heard the sound of a distant explosion, than several more.

The two guards looked at each other, clearly concerned. "Shields must be down," one of them said. Another distant explosion, and the lights flickered and came back on. More noises, and the lights went out completely. The emergency lights came on.

"Uh oh," one of the guards said.

Than came the loudest noise Corran had ever heard. The concussion nearly knocked him to the deck, and he thought he could feel the deck buckle. The emergency lights went off, plunging the cell into darkness.

Corran realized he was nearly deafened by the blast, and could hardly hear at all. He thought he could hear the hiss of escaping air. Is this it? Is it all over? Corran was nearly in a state of panic. He vaguely heard what sounded like a blast door closing, and the hissing stopped.

There were more noises, than all went quiet.



Corran didn't know how much time had passed since than. Half an hour? An hour? He realized he must have ruptured both eardrums, as he could hardly hear the guards talking, and certainly couldn't make out what they were saying.

Than he saw a faint crack of light from what seemed like the cell door. It slowly widened. It must be being manually cranked open from the outside. The silhouette of a figure appeared in the doorway. Someone said something he couldn't hear well enough to understand. The outline of what must have been the guards walked out.

Another figure walked into his cell, carrying a glowrod. After so long in complete darkness, the light blinded him. The figure said something he couldn't make out, than kneeled down and reached for his shackles.

Now's my chance!

As soon as the shackles were open, Corran jumped up, punching what seemed to be the person's head, finding it strangely soft. The glowrod went flying.

Corran saw the figure draw what looked like a blaster. Corran tackled him, and wrestled the blaster away. He fired at the figure, somewhat surprised to see a stun burst come out.

He ran though the cell door, and saw more figures under dim light down what must be the detention cell corridor. Corran turned away from them and took off at a run.

He was halfway through his second stride when everything suddenly went black.