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

I hope the rebels will see what Thrawn is planning and act against it

 

Glad you enjoy the story - you'll have to wait and see!

 

Oh, and tying the two series together - wouldn't Corran being force-sensitive be a target for Thrawn?

 

Chapter 16

This must be the longest trip to get clear of a gravity well I've ever been on, Inryi Forge thought. The two moons flanking them were unusually close together, and their combined mass created a very long corridor between them entirely in a mass shadow. If they were going elsewhere, they could have just jumped out between Vicondor Base and the moons, but this direction this was still the fastest way. Going around the moons would take even longer. And after this it will be the shortest hyperspace jump I've ever been on. If we weren't stuck picking up a passenger we wouldn't have even stopped in this system and we'd already be at Myomar.

She looked back. The slow Barloz medium freighter Bastatha Revenant carrying their squadron's support staff had made the trip two and a half times longer than it would have been if it were just their X-wings alone. At least we're almost there.

The comm suddenly crackled to life. It was Vicondor Base.

"Rogue Squadron, three Strike Cruisers just popped out of hyperspace here. Fighters are beginning to launch."

"Rogue Squadron, circle here,” Wedge ordered. “Vicondor had shields and four ion canons on the ground. It can fend for itself against three Strike Cruisers, even though it doesn't have fighters. If they land troops there's nothing we could do. If we go in we'll just get killed."

Inryi watched her scope, keyed for long-range. "I count four squadrons of squints and three squadrons of eyeballs. Heading toward..." Where are they going? They can't possibly be, can they?

"The fighters are ignoring the base and heading straight toward us," Wedge stated flatly. "Interceptors slowing to keep pace with the starfighters. The Strike Cruisers are staying just out of range of the base. Whatever Thrawn's up to, it looks like we're the target. ETA on the fighters is 23 minutes."

"We'll be long gone by than. I take it we're leaving this way?"

"Affirmative, Twelve."

Looks like Thrawn blew this one. Inryi's droid blared a warning, and Inryi looked up. Her heart sank.

"One Lancer, just out of hyperspace on our exit vector."

"I see it too, Twelve."

"So do we die fighting the Lancer, or die fighting the fighters?" Inryi shot back with grim sarcasm.

"We might not have to do either, with that timeframe. I'm contacting the base about ETA on reinforcements from Myomar. They should get here before the fighters do."

Inryi waited for the reply.

"Rogue Squadron, Vicondor Base reports that the Strike Cruisers are jamming their subspace. That Lancer is jamming ours. Looks like we're on our own."

"That Barloz isn't going to be any help. It's slow, has a single laser cannon and it's shields are no stronger than ours," Inryi added.

"Nine, do you think you can pull that trick from Valdet again, where us and Defender Wing got trapped by a Lancer?" Gavin's voice came in.

Corran took a deep breath. Is this just a normal bad feeling, or is it the Force? Either way, doesn't change the circumstances.

"Certainly, Four. Rogue Squadron, I'll close with the Lancer with a proton tracking beacon. When I'm 6 klicks from the Lancer, you need to be at 14 and a half, and launch torpedoes homing on the tracking beacon. I'll make a tight turn right past the frigate, and the torpedoes can't follow and should hit the frigate. Beacon will be on 341.22. And please launch on time."

"That's the plan, Rogues. It worked once before. Lets hope it works again," Wedge replied.

"Whistler, you know the drill," Corran said. "Route my stick commands though a randomizer. Add or subtract portions of five degrees in all directions, but keep the Lancer in a twenty degree cone. When we get there curve us as tight around its hull as the fighter can manage.”

Whistler squawked an affirmative, but it was tinged with a touch of disapproval. Does Whistler know something I don't?

Corran checked his scope, confirming the Rogue's were in position. Here goes. "Prepare to launch." Why can't I shake this bad feeling? "Fire." Looks like rogues can launch on time.

"Alright Whistler, we're heading in." The Lancer opened up as Corran closed. He tried to relax, flying on half on instinct. Waves of green bolts shot towards him, near missies splashing against his shield as he rolled around the crests.

Then Corran took three direct hits, and shields went down. Relax, Corran thought to himself, dancing around another wave of fire.

Than his view abruptly blew up. Four direct hits on his fighter's nose ripped away most of his forward fuselage. More took off both port engines and S-foils. Fire trailed from the belly of his spinning fighter, the edges reaching the side of the canopy.

I have to eject! And Whistler! Corran reached for the switch for the droid ejection system, but the panel exploded in a shower of sparks. His out of control fighter spun round, and he felt more hits to the fighter's starboard side. Flames began to enter the cockpit and licked at Corran's flightsuit.

Nothing I can do! Have to eject right now!

Corran reached down and pulled the D-ring between his legs, and the canopy shot away before Corran was unceremoniously ripped upward away from his X-wing, the G-forces nearly blacking him out.

Corran glanced down, just in time to see the remains of his fighter explode in a ball of fire as the frigate ceased fire.

Sithspawn! Whistler’s destroyed! Corran thought, his anger and frustration flooding through him before he glanced to his right.

Floating near him was Whistler, as helpless as he was but at least looking undamaged. Whistler rotated its dome, apparently to show it was fine, although in the vacuum of space he couldn't hear a thing.

How'd Whistler get out? Well, nothing to do now but wait.

 

Chapter 16 (cont.)

Inryi watched as Corran ejected from his disintegrating fighter. The proton torpedoes following him exploded a kilometer behind as they lost the signal from the tracking beacon.

"Corran!" she heard Gavin shriek.

"One, what's the plan now?" she asked in reply, shaking her head. I suppose now we all fight this thing, and half of us will die doing it.

Wedge didn't reply for several long seconds. "Same plan. I'll make the run this time. But follow me in at full speed, so at least you're closer if it doesn't work."

"But we just saw it didn't work, One" Inryi replied curtly. Commander Antilles is just going to get himself shot down, and than we'll be down another fighter when we take it on.

"There's nothing wrong with the plan, Twelve. It's risky, but it can work. Corran just drew the wrong end of the blaster. The beacon will be on 341.77"

"If you're sure about this, One, than fine," Inryi replied.

"Alright Gate, this is what we're doing. Set up a proton tracking beacon," Wedge said, ignoring a Gate's mournful wail.

"No, I don't want a randomizer, I can do that on my own, and I'll handle the turn myself. But increase control inputs by 15 percent, including at the upper end, and bypass all the cutoffs."

Gate howled in protest, and Wedge looked down at his scope for a translation. "Yes, I know that would rip the S-foils off. But there’s a margin built in, and that's assuming all inputs. If I only go past normal in one direction at a time, the X-wing will hold together." Just barely.

Gate sent another protest to Wedge's screen. "No, I don't intend to get hit. And yes, I do know that if we take any damage when doing that the fighter will break up. And a randomizer is luck of the draw. It can steer you into a laser bolt as well. Are you going to do it or not?"

Gate replied in the affirmative, with what sounded like a heavy touch of nervousness.

Wedge checked his scope. He and his fellow Rogues were just about in the launching position. "Prepare to launch on my mark." Wedge glanced down at his scope to make sure everything was lined up. "Now."

A warning began to blare. "Gate, kill the torpedo warning."

Wedge took a deep breath. Here goes.

The Lancer opened fire. Wedge weaved around the angry green bolts, the increased G-forces pushing him hard against his seat and harness. A near miss splashed against his forward shields. More did as he closed, dancing around the waves of deadly energy.

Wedge felt a slight thump. Gate interrupted his high-pitch screaming to warble something, but Wedge couldn't afford to look down for the translation. A single bolt from the Lancer scored a hit, but for now Wedge's shields held.

He was closing fast on the Lancer. With only 16 torpedoes I have to make them count. Lets put these into the engine section.

Wedge cut right, than dove just under the warship. He pulled the stick back as far as it would go, nearly scraping his hull on the frigate as he pulled tightly around it, the G-force pushing him hard into his seat.

Wedge glanced back. 16 proton torpedoes slammed into the Lancer far aft, crumpling the shield. Fire erupted from a large gash on the port side of the ship near the stern. A small secondary explosion followed, than a larger blast, ripping through the top of the hull and wrenching a gunnery tower away from the ship.

The ship's lights flickered as it lost power, drifting off to the side as it continued onward from it's momentum. Escape pods began to shoot out, as another explosion burst through the aft hull on the starboard side.

Must have tried to go full speed at the last second. Too bad for them. "Gate, project the trajectory for the Lancer. And return the controls to normal," Wedge said, beginning a lazy circle to let the rest of his squadron join up.

Gate had finally stopped screaming, but his trilling became more urgent. Wedge finally checked his scope. A quick glance at Gate's results confirmed what could already see - the frigate was on course to hit one of the moons.

A glace at Gate's earlier message killed any sense of relief he had. An Interdictor cruiser hovered just behind the other moon, out of sight until just now.

And its gravity well projectors were already powered up. And squarely across their exit route. So that's what that jolt was. Looks like Thrawn went all out for us.

Wedge completed his circle and joined up with the rest of the squadron. Looking back, he saw that the Interceptors had went to full speed, leaving the slower starfighters behind while the Strike Cruisers trailed behind them.

"We've got a problem," Wedge spoke up. "There's an Interdictor cruiser behind the larger moon, already powered up. It's jamming us too. We can outrun it, but the transport can't. We don't have enough torpedoes left to fight it. ETA for all those TIE's behind us is 14 minutes. Ideas?"

Inryi met the news with equal parts anger and frustration. After all we've just been though...

A familiar voice answered that question. "Vicondor Base here, I think I've got your answer. Those Strike Cruisers are far enough away we got a message through. Reinforcement ETA from Myomar is 12 minutes, and they're coming from your direction. If the Interdictor's got a cone across you, they should come out of hyperspace just ahead of you."

Finally some good luck.

Suddenly a mass emerged out of hyperspace directly in front of them and right on top of them. Inryi broke hard left to avoid a collision, recognizing it as another Lancer class frigate. She glanced back, about to begin desperately weaving, than paused.

The Rogues had scattered in every direction to avoid a collision. And more importantly, the line of windows along the wide front wall of the Lancer’s bridge was blown out, backlight by fire as a sheet of flame shot out of the top of the bridge. As Inryi watched, the frigate began drifting, out of control with none of its weapons firing.

We just lost someone. They collided with the bridge in the second before the shields came up. Went through the windows and gutted it. Saved the rest of us in the process, but somebody's gone.

"Who'd we lose?" Inryi asked over the comm.

"We didn't lose anyone, Twelve" Wedge replied.

"Than what was the explosion?"

"Those were proton torpedoes?"

"Where'd they come from, than?"

Wedge replied sheepishly. "Those were mine, Twelve."

Inryi looked back at the gutted bridge of the Lancer, drifting toward the smaller moon.

How is that even possible?

"Looks like you get to paint a full Lancer on the side of your fighter. Probably the only pilot with one of those," Tycho said.

Wedge felt a combination relief mixed with embarrassment. Now everybody's going to believe it's New Republic propaganda, or worse that Rogue Squadron made this whole kill up.

 

Chapter 16 (cont.)

Gate's whistling snapped him back into focus, as Gavin shouted a warning. Wedge looked over, and saw yet another warship. An Escort Carrier, practically on top of us. 72 TIE's. Just what we need. But it's too close for them...

"Three flight," Wedge barked. "Do a torpedo run at the hanger entrance. Hopefully that'll stop them from launching. Everyone else, go in one in at a time, pick off the TIE's as they launch. Freighter Bastatha Revenant, move in and pick up the EV. I'm in first."

Wedge bored in on the space just next to the Escort Carrier's hanger entrance, waiting to see what would be their first launch. What came out was a shock to him.

A TIE Advanced! And with the red stripes of the 181st squadron no less.

Unlike regular TIE variants, TIE Advanced's, brights in pilot slang, possessed both a hyperdrive and shields. Its shields were actually were stronger than an X-wing's, and its powerful twin heavy blaster cannons packed the same firepower. But the shields were all the bright had going for it. Moving slowly as it exited the hanger, it couldn't outmaneuver Wedge, or pick up enough speed to dogfight him before Wedge had already gotten through his pass.

But the Escort Carrier was not unarmed either, and a pass on the TIE would take him to point blank range.

Closing in, Wedge took his left hand off the throttle, and reached up to the ignition panel under the left side of the canopy for three switches rarely found in a starfighter.

TIE fighters, Z-95 Headhunters and most fighters without astromech droids might occasionally need to be moved around crowded hangers in a more direct fashion than the regular flight controls could handle. Without a droid that could operate the controls however it needed, override controls would be used instead. But for fighters expected to be sold to individuals who wouldn't have anybody with override codes, such as some Z-95 Headhunters, the ignition panel included three toggle switches that allowed the pilot to operate the repulsorlifts and maneuvering jets in translation directly, slowly going directly side-to-side and up-down without having to turn the fighter first.

The maneuvering jets have little thrust compared to the sublight engines, but could still be potentially used in conjunction with the regular controls to make a fighter skid, flying with the nose offset from the direction of travel. Simply shoving the etheric rudder could briefly do that same thing, but using the maneuvering jets allowed a fighter to stay in a skid. It took skill and practice to do, and left a pilot without any free hands for other controls, but it was an effective tactic - for those who could coordinate it.

X-wings, which come with sockets for astromech droids don't have those switches. Unless you had one of the first 31 X-wings built, with ignition panels reused from Z-95 Headhunters.

Wedge had been flying the ninth built since before Yavin.

He bored in on the bright, setting his lasers to duel fire and opening up at extreme range. Two seconds later he yawed left and pushed the translation stick right, ignoring Gate's startled protests as he skidded his fighter off to the right while keeping his lasers pointed straight at the TIE, careful to make sure they hit the front center of its shields.

As the bright splashes of his lasers blinded the bright's pilot, the TIE brought its nose around and started firing - at where Wedge would be without the skid. He thinks I have to be flying straight and level from where he last saw me, and I bet he thinks the carrier's guns are going to hit me hard if I keep this up. He's knows my shields should fail before his, and combined with the carrier should shoot me down. Too bad for him!

The laser cannons on the escort carrier opened up as Wedge rolled through the skid, flying in a corkscrew as blasts of energy from the carrier missed abeam.

A second TIE Advanced launched, coming out to the right of Wedge's target, and again bright bearing the stripes of the 181st. Another 181st bright! Here goes!

As Wedge closed his laser cannons started to do heavy damage to the first Advanced's shields. It broke left as best as it could while it struggled to pick up speed. Wedge kept firing at it, his thumb finding the custom thumb wheel on his stick to set his shields to double front. The second bright turned straight toward Wedge, opening fire.

As it got close, bright bursts scoring direct hits on Wedge's forward shields, Wedge suddenly rammed the rudder petals the opposite direction. His nose snapped round with the skid instead of against it as he came out of it, pointing directly head to head at the second bright.

Wedge found the second thumbwheel to set his laser to quad fire, snapping off two quad bursts as collision warning klaxons blared and Gate screamed. Angry green bolts splashed against his forward shields. He let fly with a proton torpedo with the second burst at point-blank range, not bothering with a target lock at as the view of the bright began to fill the windscreen.

Wedge hauled back on the stick and rolled left, his thumb setting his shields to double rear as his fighter began to climb up and over. He briefly jammed the etheric rudder hard left to get his tail pointed at the bright. Wedge’s fighter was rocked from behind by the edge of the blast of his proton torpedo, now double rear shields holding just it time.

He slowed his climb, still rolling hard. A second later as Wedge's fighter came through top of its arc the bulk of the Escort Carrier was dead ahead at point blank range. He jammed on the right rudder pedal, swinging his fighters nose to the right. The hanger entry port flashed in front of Wedge, with what he just had time to recognize an Interceptor nearing the opening between long racks of TIE's, and he snapped off his last proton torpedo.

With no time to look at the results, Wedge shoved the stick all the way to the left and pulled hard as his fighter continued through it's curved arc, nearly colliding with the carrier.

The first bright was ahead at short range, desperately struggling to pick up speed. Wedge snap-rolled right and pulled up nearly on its tail, chopping the throttle to half to stay behind it as it broke right.

Skidding to the left as green bolts flashed by from behind, his aiming reticule leading the TIE, Wedge fired quad bursts directly into it as he bored in.

The third burst finished off what was left of its shields, as the fourth burst hit the rear of the center section. The middle of the center section erupted in flames, and another quad burst in the same spot set off a fireball that completely consumed the center of the TIE, the blast sending it's red striped solar panels flying off opposite directions.

Wedge shoved the throttle full forward and pulled up and away out of range of the Escort Carrier, finally having a chance to look back at the target area.

There was nothing left of the second bright, and an Interceptor, missing it's starboard armored solar panel and with fire trailing from the side of its ball cockpit spiraled out of control. Wedge briefly saw red stripes on the remaining panel before the squint exploded completely. Near the hanger entrance some TIE debris had been blown out. Gate was still screaming.

"Gate, shut up! You can stop screaming now," Wedge yelled. Keep this up and I'll start calling you Mynock again. The droid finally went quiet. Maybe a fight like this was how it started screaming back when it was Mynock. Or maybe it's just inherent in this droid. Either way, seems a memory wipe is only a temporary fix.

Wedge evened out his shields, glancing down at the panel to check their strength. 15 percent when evened. That was slicing the Mynock close to the hull.

"Fancy flying, One" Tycho's voice came in. "I count two Advanced's and an Interceptor killed in 30 seconds, all 181st aces no less."

"Thanks, Three."

"Plus however many were destroyed in the Hanger," Gavin added.

"Those don't count, Four," Wedge replied.

"Regardless, a holo of the sensor data will make fascinating viewing," Tycho added.

"There's still a battle going on, or are we going to keep talking?" Inryi butted in.

"I haven't forgotten, Twelve" Tal'dira said.

Wedge looked back at the Escort carrier, seeing the Twi'lek pilot pull away from near the hanger entry port, as the remains of an interceptor, its radiator panels sans-red stripes spiraled away. Must have just been a few aces that got transferred.

Another Interceptor had just launched, and turned to chase Tal'dira, but was moving too slowly do to anything but snap off a few quick bursts. Tycho bored in behind him, quickly vaping the squint.

"Nor have I, Two," Tycho's said.

"ETA 30 seconds on those torpedoes, keep those TIE's busy," Asyr added as she and Inryi headed straight for the entry port.

"Five, head in with Four."

"With pleasure, " Bror Jace replied. He and Gavin both vaped a pair of squints that had just launched, and Gavin pulled away to vape another that had been trying to get away.

Inryi and Asyr closed in on their torpedo run, letting fly with four proton torpedoes straight into the hanger entry port, its shields down to allow fighters to launch. From the flashes and orange-yellow glare in what part of the hanger Wedge could see, the torpedoes must have gutted much of the hanger with some mid-sized secondary explosions as well.

Apparently whoever was commanding the Escort Carrier got the hint, and turned to run rather than continuing to send fighters to be slaughtered and getting torpedoes in the hanger bay.

 

Chapter 16 (cont.)

The Rogues followed it, circling it like angry Hawk-Bats and making sure it never got enough distance to start launching fighters. For some reason the Interdictor kept it's gravity well over the Rogues, even though it prevented the carrier from escaping into hyperspace.

Meanwhile the four squadrons of Interceptors were closing in. Right on time as advertised, two Star Cruisers and a trio of Assault Frigates from Myomar dropped out of hyperspace nearby at the edge of the Interdictor's gravity cone.

Accompanied by three wings worth of A-wings, and a two wings of B-wings. The squints promptly turned to run toward the strike cruisers, their only way out of the system. But the Strike Cruisers were all the way back dead center in the overlapping gravity wells of the two moons.

"Unidentified X-wing squadron," a very prim Mon Calamari voice came over the comm. "Identify your squadron, and can someone please tell me what in the Galaxy is going on here?"

"Rogue Squadron," Wedge replied, "and it seems like Thrawn's after us specifically. We've already destroyed two Lancers."

There was a long pause.

"I don't understand how that can happen, but that can wait. Right now, I have a battle to run. As for you, stay with the capital ships. Sounds like you've been through enough."

"Understood, sir."

"We aren't going to help?" Gavin spoke up.

"We can't run down the squints or eyeballs before they reach the Strike Cruisers, and as for them we've only got 6 pairs of torpedoes between us,” Wedge replied. “The Imps have snow's chance on Tatooine of getting away, and if they don't know it yet, they'll find out soon. I think we can take a well-deserved rest."

The battle unfolded as any competent commander could have predicted. The Escort Carrier, caught at point blank range, was quickly destroyed by the combined firepower of five capital ships. A TIE Advanced launched and fled to hyperspace, followed by the Interdictor.

The A-wings ran down the Interceptors, which had started too close to the A-wings to reach the Strike Cruisers first. Outnumbered over two to one, they fought hard, but once a full wing of B-wings joined in, they didn't have a chance. The other wing of B-wings bypassed them to head for the Strike Cruisers.

The eyeballs managed to reach the Strike Cruisers as the A-wings were dogfighting with the squints, but the relief was temporary. The Strike Cruisers were faster than the Republic warships, but were run down by the masses of A-wings before they could get out of the twin moon's gravity well. The eyeballs put up a fight against two wings of them, but had no chance. The third wing had damaged the Strike Cruisers enough for the B-wings to catch up and finish them off.

 

A great victory for Wedge and his crew

 

(Sorry for the delay.) That it certainly is. Actually I'm pretty sure it's the first defeat Thrawn's forces have had since Slus Van.

 

(Sorry for the delay in posting.)

Chapter 17

Pelleron stood in the command room of the Chimaera as a sullen-faced junior Admiral in command of the operation to destroy Rogue Squadron delivered his report in person to the Grand Admiral. It was his misfortune that when he rejoined the fleet, the Chimaera happened to be present.

It was also his misfortune that the Grand Admiral already knew as much as he did. Thrawn had told Pelleron that Delta Source reported that it was the talk of the Imperial Palace for days.

"So," Thrawn began. "You state that our losses include two Lancer-class frigates and an Escort Carrier with all hands killed or captured, the carrier's entire compliment of fighters save one including four squadrons of Interceptors and three very valuable TIE Advanceds, and four additional squadrons of Interceptors, three squadrons of Starfighters and three Strike Cruisers presumed destroyed, and that only your ship escaped?

"Yes, sir," the unfortunate Admiral said, looking down at the floor.

"Well it so happens that we have confirmation of what happened after you left. They were in fact destroyed. All of these losses, in exchange for one X-wing and 9 A-wings as the only rebel losses, of which only 4 pilots were killed."

Pelleron braced himself for the inevitable outburst.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"No, sir."

Thrawn's glowing red eyes glared straight at the Admiral. “The ships involved were slated for upcoming operations that would require them here intact within the next several hours. Now multiple plans have to be modified. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

"You lacked the ability to adapt to changing circumstances. When unexpectedly the second fighter made a run, you still activated your Interdictor's gravity well projectors, even though it was clearly best to wait. You simple-mindedly gave the Escort Carrier vectors that brought it out of hyperspace too close to Rogue Squadron, than kept the gravity cone centered on Rogue Squadron even though the Escort Carrier was within it and clearly needed to be allowed to retreat."

"I understand, sir," the Admiral replied, still looking at the floor.

Thrawn continued. "You had two squadrons of TIE bombers sitting in your hanger while Rogue Squadron was keeping the carrier from launching that could have created an opening for the Escort Carrier to launch Interceptors. But as the plan called for them to destroy the freighter after the fighters were eliminated, you kept them in their hangers. All you could do was follow the exact letter of your orders.”

“When you did try to adapt, you uselessly sent the Strike Cruisers chasing after Rogue Squadron, bringing them far enough away from Vicondor that they were able to summon reinforcements from Myomar that destroyed the strike force.”

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Thrawn asked.

"No, sir," the Admiral replied, dejected.

Pelleron looked around for Rukh, not immediately seeing him.

"You are hereby relived of command and demoted to captain. You will be assigned to a staff position far behind the front lines where your lack of imagination will not be a cause of future problems. Is that understood?”

Pelleron realized he should have known better.

"Yes sir," the newly demoted captain said with relief, happy to at least escape without even a court-martial, let alone his life.

After the officer left the room, Pelleron turned toward Thrawn.

"Are we going to try to destroy Rogue Squadron again?" he asked.

"No," Thrawn replied. "This was a unique opportunity, and the requisite forces to conduct it happened to be available. Rogue Squadron has long since been embarked on the Mon Ontent. The shooting down of this Horn confirmed that he is not, in fact, force sensitive, and that his prior success was a matter of luck. As such, he is of no farther interest to us."

"Rogue squadron is still only a single fighter squadron, and most assuredly not worth fighting an entire fleet action for. While the intended effect on Rebel morale has been replaced by a boost, what has happened cannot be changed. In the meantime, two matters at Bilbringi deserve our attention. Inform the bridge to set course for there," Thrawn finished.

The first is dealing with the Star Destroyer under construction that was destroyed. “I take it it’s time to use those asteroids you’ve been putting cloaking devices on?” Pelleron asked hesitantly.

“It most certainly is,” Thrawn replied.

Pelleron swallowed. He’s been tight lipped about why he’s doing that. “If I may ask, what are you planning to use them for?”

Thrawn smiled. “All in good time.”

 

Chapter 18

"LIGHT FREIGHTER LANDING, STAND CLEAR."

Wedge looked up from beside where his fighter sat in the hanger bay of the Mon Ontent docked at Myomar. Standing beside him was Corran, asking about stick thumbwheels between sipping a mug of hot chocolate.

The Pulsar Skate!

Corran set his chocolate mug on a workbench next to him. The ship set down softly, and Mirax Terrik walked down the ramp.

She spotted Corran standing next to Wedge. "Corran!!" she shouted, running toward him, launching herself into his embrace and nearly knocking him off his feet. She kissed him on both cheeks, then deeply on the lips, both legs coming off the deck.

Finally Mirax pulled away. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I never thought I'd see you again either," Corran replied, trying to catch his breath.

"I brought your fighter. It's all ready to go."

Mirax took a step back and poked Corran in the stomach. "But if you're going to lose this one as quickly as your last one, I might just not give it to you," she said playfully.

"I think I'll take better care of this one," Corran replied. "You heard about what happened?"

"You could hardly turn around without hearing it. It was the talk of the fleet for days. No wonder, it's the only good news from the front these days. How'd Whistler get out of your mess this time?"

"Turns out I never realized Whistler could enable his own ejection system. There's supposed be a piece of programming built in to both starfighters and astromechs that prevents that, but Whistler removed it somehow without telling me."

Mirax turned. "Wedge!" She rushed over to him and hugged him deeply, than gave him a quick kiss on both cheeks. She thought for a moment, her brown eyes sparkling, than briefly kissed Wedge on the lips as well.

"Mirax?!" Wedge burst out.

"I take it the general news releases aren't exaggerated at all? Some of them stuff in them beggars belief," Mirax asked.

Oh no, not this.

"No, they're accurate."

"Than I believe you certainly deserved that."

"One question though. Were you deliberately aiming at a 181st Interceptor, or did you just fire that torpedo randomly into that escort carrier's hanger?"

"It was head on, so I couldn't have seen the red stripes if I tried, although I knew it was a squint," Wedge replied, beginning to blush. "I was aiming for the TIE's lined up along the side, somewhat in the general vicinity of the Interceptor. I must not have hit particularly close, since it only took one solar panel off. From the how long the delay was before the next one came out there could well have been another TIE in line behind it that happened to get vaped without intending to. Or not."

"Another possible kill?" Mirax said mischievously with a lopsided smile. "Go on."

Wedge looked down at the deck. I said too much.

"I honestly don't remember whether I even saw a TIE close behind the squint or not, only being glad it wasn't another bright. Certainly not intentional. Some various small bits of TIE's did come out the hanger, but at least some of them had to be from the ones waiting to launch, if not all of it."

"But there's no way of knowing, and it wouldn't count anyway," Wedge said hoping to end the discussion.

"What would you put the odds of vaping a second one at?"

If only I'd shut up.

"50-50?" Corran suggested.

"More like 75-25," Wedge replied in shame.

"For or against," Mirax asked, an eyebrow raised.

Please stop.

For," Wedge said, blushing.

Mirax kissed him briefly on the lips again, as Wedge blushed even deeper.

"I just can't wait to see a holo of the sensor data," Mirax said, her voice rising in pitch.

"It seems everyone wants to see it," Wedge replied.

She turned to study the side of Wedge's starfighter, not yet finished playing with him. "Never seen a red solo kill lancer painted on the side before. So that's what it looks like."

"I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Wedge said.

"And you just got three new things to brag about," Mirax added.

Oh no.

"I looked it up, and you’re the only pilot ever to claim a full kill for a Lancer. In fact, nobody's ever been even able to claim a Lancer at all except for yellow-painted half-size shared squadron kills. There's only two one's of those, one's yours and one's Corran's.”

"Neither of us get credit for those, Mirax," Wedge replied, stiffening.

"But I give you credit, and that's what matters. There's also only two pairs of half-squadron kills, one of which I see is painted on your fighter only one third size instead of half."

"And thirty-nine pilots died to that thing at Drala-IV."

"And you couldn't fit all the non-fighter squadron kills on your side unless you made them less than regulation size?" Mirax said mischievously.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, stiff as a durasteel beam. I'm starting to wish I'd just rammed that Lancer's bridge.

Mirax ran her hand over the side of Wedge's fighter. She brushed past the end of the long rows of red TIE starfighter squadrons, into several black single TIE's at the end. "For that matter you're nearly done with your current row of TIE starfighters, and there's not much room for another. I'm assuming you'll be repainting everything 10 percent smaller again in a few months?"

"Well..." Wedge said sheepishly.

"And is that why I see a can of Republic Gray-White paint sitting on the workbench?" Mirax asked pointedly.

"No, it's not. The techs had to replace several skin panels on my X-wing. I told Gate to increase control inputs by 15 percent and to bypass the cutoffs, and I nearly ripped the fighter apart. A couple of skin panels wrinkled under the load."

Finally no more praise.

"You did that? That's something more to be proud of."

Wedge blushed down past his shirt. "And besides that," he added, "the starboard tips of the S-foils got singed from the torpedo blast. I had my shields to double-rear, and apparently I wasn't pointed directly away and a little got around the edges."

Mirax turned directly toward Wedge. "You're also going to be the only pilot ever to receive the fifth, highest level of the Kalidor Crescent, the Silver Scimitar."

What!

"You only haven't gotten it yet since there aren't any Silver Scimitar embellishments in existence to pin on it, and turns out the design for it was never fully worked out."

A Silver Scimitar. It's actually going to be awarded? And I'm getting it?"

"R-Really? Wedge managed to stammer out. "Where did you hear that from?"

"Fairly well-evidenced rumor that got pieced together. First, there's a rumor going around the fleet."

Mirax counted off on her fingers. "Second, there's the facts about it I just gave you. Third, the New Republic is looking to hire somebody with experience designing medals, and they're looking to hire a jeweler for a single item. Fourth, I can personally confirm that the New Republic is looking to buy a precious gem or sets of germs at 40 percent above market price if they can be delivered within a week. So unless Mon Mothma decided to give herself a new award, there's not many other options."

"That's a deduction worthy of CorSec."

"Who do you think pieced it together?" Mirax said pointedly.

"Corran?"

"No, Iella Wessiri. She hitched a ride, although she's sleeping now, it's the middle of the night her time. She wanted to see Corran too, and we were both on Corellia at the time, so..."

"And there's also there's the last thing you can brag about."

"What's that?" Wedge asked. Not yet another thing.

"You just passed Anakin Skywalker of Clone Wars fame as the highest scoring pilot of all time."

Wedge turned away. Oh no. Please no. Anything but that.

"Well the Clone Wars didn't last nine years either," he was finally able to say.

"And nearly all of Anakin’s kills were the dumb as duracrete droid-for-brains ones the clonemasters stamped out,” Mirax replied. “You've been fighting regular pilots.”

I'm not sure that's something to be proud of. "And at the rate things have been going, this war could last another twenty years," Wedge was able to add.

"That's not the only bad thing, although it's the worst. The black market prices for Correlian goods in Imp space have collapsed, now that the Empire’s taking systems left and right. It made shiploads of new legal supply available."

"Wait, are you telling me Iella Wessiri is taking part in a smuggling operation?" Wedge asked is disbelief.

"You mean you're still smuggling to the Imps?" Corran interjected.

"Don't tell her, she doesn't know. And my darling, while I wouldn't want you to be anything else in the world, a fighter pilot's salary does not a ship pay for. You may not have noticed living on the front, but you haven't been paid since Thrawn started his offensive. And the New Republic's payments to independent shippers are starting to fall behind.”

"Most of the cargo hold's going to something for the New Republic, be it weapons or refugees. Besides, the high value rare-item smuggling is mostly headed Imp-ward these days. If anything it's hurting them, since the net flow of credits is mostly this way."

Corran thought it over for a moment, his expression changing to one of acceptance, than puzzlement.

"Wait a second." Corran suddenly asked. "Since when have I gotten a salary?"

"Since around a year ago. I've been collecting it for you, since it’s our money, and you don't have any way to spend it," Mirax replied.

Corran stood there thinking it over.

"So when do I get to see Iella?" Corran asked after a pause.

"She just went to sleep. Probably another six hours, less if she wakes up and realizes she's arrived. I brought the ingredients for a ryshcate, and I'll bake it when she gets up.

Mirax raised an eyebrow, and took Corran's hand. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to spend all that time getting re-acquainted with your bunk..."

Why do my lips taste like chocolate? Wedge suddenly thought as they walked away.

 

love the reunions and scheming by Mirax

 

I had to laugh out loud at this perfect bit of Bantam-era reminiscing. Takes me right back to when it was assumed as a matter of course that the clones were the bad guys in the Clone Wars, and the "clonemasters" were the enemy.

Which makes me wonder: are you making a deliberate effort to keep this story in line with pre-PT continuity? Because that's an exercise I don't see too often these days...

 

Thanks! Pay attention to the mentions of chocolate... This squares away Thrawn desperately looking for force-sensitives to placate C'Boath with Corran being at least somewhat known as a force sensitive and ties the Rouge Squadron series into the Thrawn Trilogy. The ending also puts a timestamp tie-in to TLC as well, right after Karde sees the asteroids being fitted with cloaking devices and the ISD being blown up, but before Thrawn deals with the commander of the shipyards.

Thanks! Actually, I am. Well spotted. The plot of the Thrawn Trilogy doesn't really work with the PT's version of the Clone Wars, and my headcannon pretty much always has them ending/the Empire being formed at ~35 BBY as per old WEG material. (And Lucas's thoughts at the time.) (My headcannon also usually adapts the pre-PT version when dealing with most mid-Empire period onward EU material.) "Dumb as duracrete" is of course a SW replacement for "dumb as a rock," but "droid for brains" and "stamped out" were put there after a lot of consideration during editing to leave a little wiggle room.

 

Chapter 19

The next afternoon Mirax walked into Wedge's quarters. "It's official, Wedge. You're getting the Silver Scimitar."

I don't believe it. I'm actually getting it. But do I really deserve that?

"Mon Mothma is going to award it personally to you in a ceremony on Coruscant in six days. You're supposed to leave on a Gallofree freighter that's arriving in the next several hours with supplies, but that'll take four days to get there. If you can convince command to let me take you, I can get you there in a day. I can get you back in a day too."

"I can probably convince them if you stay with the squadron," Wedge replied, still processing.

"Oh, and they want to bring your X-wing. Apparently they want publicity holos of it."

Oh no. Anything but that. Wedge sat there stunned for a few seconds. Suddenly something clicked.

"Wait, how did you find out, when even I haven't been told yet?" Wedge interjected.

Mirax smiled mischievously. "My dear, how do you think I've been able to find your squadron no matter where it is these last two years? I'm privy to all communications regarding Rogue Squadron, even those that go to higher-ups instead of you."

"Wait what?" Wedge said, shocked. "How did you manage that?"

"It's amazing what Karrde's slicer can do. I've been calling in a favor with him since Iceheart died."

"What kind of favor got you that?" Wedge asked in disbelief. What else had Mirax been up to?

"Oh, merely allowing Karrde’s men to make off with certain items from the Lusankya," Mirax replied playfully with a smile.

"What items?" What could have been worth so much? It better not have been from the prison.

"Merely the 25 undamaged or repairable AT-AT's."

"What”

"I thought they were all damaged or destroyed beyond repair. And you let Karrde put 25 AT-AT's on the black market?" Wedge stammered. What was Mirax thinking? Letting some petty tyrant have that kind of firepower.

"No, Karrde already had Lando lined up as a buyer for 20 of them for his Nkllon project. Booster sold him the other 20 from the Errant Venture that the New Republic wouldn't let him keep."

"I thought Lando got the first 20 from captured New Republic material."

"Appearances, Wedge, appearances," she replied, holding up a finger. "And it seems a few records got altered."

I guess Mirax wasn't crazy after all. Wait a second!

"What about the other five?"

Mirax raised an eyebrow. "Wedge, Karrde had a gravity well projector. Why would you think he didn't already have AT-AT's?"

As Wedge stood there processing everything he had just heard, Nawara Ven, the squadrons executive officer, walked into the lounge.

"Wedge, the admiral wants to see you in his office immediately."

"That's probably him telling you. Try to act surprised, and if you can't, claim you heard the rumor going around."



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


A few hours later Mirax was chatting with Corran during dinner. "There's something you'll be glad to hear, but I don't think the rest of Rogue squadron will," she said.

"What's that?"

"As part of the review for the Silver Scimitar, command realized there's no rules regarding how to credit someone who kills something with a proton tracking beacon and other pilot's torpedoes."

"I'm fine with not getting credit for that Lancer. Champion Squadron didn’t get killed, and that's what matters," Corran replied.

"Corran, my dear, while that may be what you say, I know not getting credit for it grates at you every time you think about it."

"You know me too well."

"As we're married, I'd say I know you perfectly."

"True enough," Corran said with a laugh.

"Anyway, command decided than in that case, the pilot making the run gets half a red personal kill, and the squadron who provided the torpedoes gets half a yellow squadron kill."

"So in other words, I get to paint half a full credit Lancer on the side of my fighter along with Commander Antilles, Champion Squadron loses half a yellow squadron kill Lancer, and the rest of Rogue Squadron loses half a squadron kill?"

"Almost. Rules also say that a change in rules can't remove kills after 90 days, so Champion squadron keeps a full squadron kill Lancer. But Rogue Squadron has to paint over a squadron kill Lancer.

"I don't think the rest of the Rogue's will be glad to hear that. After all, I have to live with them," Corran added jokingly.

"But to avoid rocking the boat, yours won't be announced in the official news register bulletins, just the change in regulations. It'll be credited to you in the database, and you can paint it on your fighter, but it won't be any news of it."

"Just to make sure I have this straight, I do get to paint half a red full-credit Lancer on the side?"

"Yes you do, my dear. The news should reach Rogue Squadron officially in the next few hours."



Chapter 20


Three days later the Mon Ontent had arrived at Tepasi to join one of the fleets defending the core, now strengthened against the new Imperial launching point at Carida. Mirax had left a few hours after the Admiral had told Wedge of his new award three days prior. The Pulsar Skate had showed up again a few hours earlier, and Mirax had just walked into Wedge's quarters unannounced.

"Mirax, could you at least ask next time?" he said as he looked up from the terminal on his desk. I thought it was locked. Must have been wrong.

Mirax's face was a picture of concern, rather than her usually upbeat self. "Wedge, I know nobody has said this to your face, but there are some outside the Starfighter Corps who are wondering if your role in the whole Vicondor affair has been greatly embellished, and a few inside."

Internally Wedge was decimated, but tried to keep it from showing on his face. Now everybody really does think I'm a glory hound. Or even just New Republic propaganda.

Apparently he wasn't successful.

"Wedge, don't look like that. You should be proud of what you pulled off."

"But nobody will believe what I did," he replied, his eyes watering.

"But I do," Mirax replied, sitting in the chair next to him. "And you know, and that's what matters the most."

"Can't you just use the Kill Confirmation Holocam to prove them wrong?" she asked after a pause.

"No such luck." Wedge replied. "It's mounted on the starboard/upper laser cannon, and the proton torpedo blast damaged the memory card. It probably kept recording, but none of the data is usable."

"Besides, mine is an old model. It doesn't record proton torpedoes at all, and for 10 seconds after a laser is fired. Those in the last thousand or so built record holos 40 seconds after a torpedo is fired, and for 30 seconds after a laser gets fired, but mine doesn't."

"But almost nobody is familiar with X-wings as old as mine, and they'll find the lack of a holo suspicious."

Wedge was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Wedge, I love you like a brother, and I've known you since we were kids. You've never really cared what people think. What happened to you?"

"Everybody blows everything I do all out of proportion."

"Wedge, I can confirm for a fact they don't. You've been acting strange since Celec Base. What in the Galaxy happened there?" Mirax asked with concern.

"I don't want to talk about it," Wedge replied, turning away in tears.

Mirax placed her hand on his shoulder. "Wedge, I think you need to talk about it. When you do, I'll be right there for you, and I bet Tycho would too," she said softly.

"Can I take that datacard with me? I bet Iella has some old contacts in CorSec forensics that might be able to salvage the data."

"Sure, go ahead, not that it'll work."

"I hate to have to add this, but they're planning on recreating the forward view from your cockpit in a simulator using the sensor logs," Mirax said with regret.

"Please, don't let them do that." Anything but that.

Mirax was somewhat surprised by the intensity of Wedge’s reaction.

"If they try that the simulator won't be able to do it. My X-wing doesn't match the normal configuration any more. It'll prove to everybody the whole thing's made up."

"But you train with simulators," she replied.

"I have a modification kit. Nobody else has really gotten the chance to use it."

"I think I can arrange for them to call it off."

What does she mean by that?

"If you don't want glory, there is some good news," Mirax added.

"Is this related to the reports of the attack on Coruscant?” Wedge asked.

“Details are sketchy, but it seems that for some reason Coruscant's not letting any ships in or out.

"So I'm not going to Coruscant?"

"You are, but it's been postponed indefinitely. Once they get their problem figured out, whatever it is, you'll be going. But who knows how long that will be."



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

 

Chapter 20 (cont)


That night, it was 0120 hours and Wedge was still awake in his quarters, nursing a bottle of Correlian Reserve Whisky. There was a knock on the door.

"Wedge, I can hear you're still up," Tycho said.

"I'm fine," Wedge replied, clearly anything but fine.

A few seconds later, the door slid open, and Tycho walked in.

"Didn't I lock it?" Wedge snapped.

"Sadly no," Tycho replied, but not quite evenly.

"And I don't recall giving you permission to enter, either," Wedge added, turning his head toward him.

"Nor did you deny it."

Tycho sat down in a chair next to Wedge's small table across from him. "I take it this is about the Silver Scimitar for the Kalidor Crescent," he asked.

"That's the fifth and final embellishment," Wedge said sadly. "It's not supposed to ever be awarded." He took a sip from his glass.

"There's no reason it can't be," Tycho replied firmly. "Do you think you should have been awarded something else instead?"

His blue eyes looked into Wedge's face, studying him.

"Or nothing at all," Tycho added after a pause.

Wedge didn't reply, but his expression indicated to Tycho the latter.

"You should be awarded something without a doubt," Tycho snapped. The tone of his voice almost startled Wedge.

"The Coruscant Star of Valor is for "service and bravery beyond the bounds of what can be asked of a citizen by a government, and a willful commitment to put the good of the many above their own personal welfare." The Correlian Cross is for “taking extraordinarily heroic action at the risk of life sufficient to set the individual apart from his or her comrades," Tycho continued.

"And finally the Kalidor Crescent is for "A demonstration of superior piloting skills and exceptional heroism at extreme risk of one's own life.""

"Now which one sounds most fitting?" Tycho finished.

"The last one," Wedge admitted softly, looking down at the table.

"Than I believe that answers the question."

There was a long pause. Wedge finally looked up.

"I may be getting the awards, but the rest of the squadron isn't" Wedge said sadly.

"I take it this is about Corran's frustration about not getting the Kalidor Crescent for when he got a Lancer?"

"He certainly deserved it," Wedge said.

"And did you put him in for one?" Tycho replied, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

"Of course I did," Wedge snapped back.

Tycho's expression softened. "Well I pulled the Starfighter Command files on it. His application spent a few months listed as "Pending Review" while it was kicked between offices a dozen times. Than there's a file stating that it was approved, but as Corran was about to infiltrate Coruscant, he should receive it after the mission was over. Than he was believed dead, as the status was changed to ‘awarded posthumously.’ Afterwards it got lost in bureaucracy.

"You mean he got the Kalidor Crescent?" Wedge replied in surprise. "But it never got given to him?"

"Correct on that part."

Wedge leaned back on his chair. "So will it ever get given to him?"

"You might send a report asking about it," Tycho replied. "His personal file does show he has it."

"I'm not sure that would be taken well," Wedge replied sadly.

"Or Nawara Ven could send it. Since he's the unit's executive officer, it might look better coming from him."

"I'll give him the order in the morning," Wedge replied contently, setting his glass down.

"Wait." he suddenly asked. "None of us have access to those files. How did you get ahold of them?"

"I may not be cleared for them, but I asked an old friend who is and fought alongside Corran to check the records."

Wedge's sleep deprived mind took quite a while to figure out the answer, but he finally did. "Winter?”

"Correct. And Mirax says simulator recreation is off, due to a message from Bel Iblis pointing out the simulator configuration problem. Although I wonder if Winter told him, or the message was really all Mirax’s doing in his name. But it's getting late, and Corran will be getting the Kalidor Crescent he deserves. Now sleep on that, and get a full night's sleep," Tycho said friendlily but firmly.

 

the rewards after the battle, always discussing who deserves them.

 

Been a subject since the beginning of time I suppose. In the case whatever's gotten in Wedge recently has him thinking he doesn't deserve them, and Corran wasn't quite as unbothered by not getting the kill for the Lancer in X-wing: Rouge Squadron as he let on...

 

Chapter 21

"What do you mean, "it's impossible to install a Z-95 ignition panel?"" Corran replied to the tech. He was standing in the Mon Ontent's hanger bay the next morning, asking about modifying his X-wing's flight controls.

"A few reasons,” the tech answered. “First, we'd have to rearrange most of the port side of the cockpit to get it to fit. Second, we'd have to rewire half your X-wing, and Wedge's had cutouts for wire runs in places yours doesn't."

"That doesn't sound insurmountable," Corran replied, irritated.

"Third, some of the wiring related to the controls on Wedge's fighter, along with the rest of the first 31 built, uses some oddball data channel wires that nobody makes anymore. Finally, and most important, to get it to work there's a kludge with some oddball micro-processor that nobody knows where they came from, and nobody's in maintenance has seen in years."

"How can you not know where they came from? What about the datawork?"

"Listen Corran, back then nobody much bothered with datawork," the tech snapped back. "There were few enough fighters anyway that they could either keep track of it in their heads or just put some random bits down in a datapad. It just didn't seem important."

I never thought of it that way. I guess before Yavin there wasn't really any bureaucracy in the Rebellion. No, of course there wasn't.

"But there's only a so many types of fighter around,” Corran said, trying another angle. “Surely somebody recognizes it from something. And what about a serial number or some other marking? Surely it has those?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not off a fighter. And it doesn’t have one. Probably somebody was giving the Rebel Alliance parts from somewhere, and than got killed. It could be off a droid, or a speeder, and there's so many models of those it's impossible to track it down."

"There's even a fair chance they were custom-made in some small shop the Imps shut down hard. That would be my guess."

"Wait a second," Corran said as a thought occurred to him. "What does Wedge use for spares for those?"

"Those don't really wear out, and Wedge isn't in that habit of letting his X-wing get shot up," the tech replied with irritation. "He's got a spool of data cable and maybe two microprocessors he's stashed somewhere, but nobody knows where he keeps those."

"And he's certainly not giving them up," the tech added, cutting off Corran's next question before he could begin.

Accepting defeat, Corran moved on. "What about thumbwheels for the stick? Being able to angle the shields without having to take your hand off the stick could save your skin sometimes."

"Well," the tech began, "They're not parts in the New Republic inventory. It's not that suitable parts would be hard to find, mind you, some private yard could put one together, just that I can't do it with anything I've got."

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

 

Chapter 21 (cont.)

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

So this is what Wedge gets to play with, Corran thought. Wedge had never let anyone else fly his X-wing in ten years of combat. But he did have an extra simulator cockpit side panel with a Z-95 ignition panel like his, and an extra replacement simulator stick with his custom thumbwheel modifications. Swapping them out with the parts in a simulator cockpit only took 20 minutes. Wedge had also long since had software created for the modified controls that could be loaded into one of Rogue Squadron's simulators.

Corran had no illusions that any of these things would be of the slightest use in a real X-wing. They're only good for training, but at least Wedge let me try it out.

As the hood over the simulator closed, the display screens came to life. Off to his left was Tycho in another X-wing, his simulator across the room from his. He had agreed to fly both wingman and training target, depending on the situation. A basic training routine had been activated so that if Tycho "died," his fighter would be immediately "resurrected" a short distance away.

"Ready, Whistler?" The droid trilled an acknowledgement, but the tone wasn’t quite right. Does Whistler know something I don’t? "Ready, Tycho?"

"Affirmative, One. This should be interesting."

What does he mean?

"A Carrack should be coming out of hyperspace ahead of you. Try out a run, and try not to get hit."

"With pleasure, Two."

The Carrack came out of hyperspace as promised. "I'm going in!"

Finally time to see what Wedge gets to do. I'll try out a slight skid before I get in range.Corran reached his left hand over and grabbed on the translation switch.

"Something's wrong with the switches, Two. They can only use the jets at half and full."

"Nothing's wrong, One. Those are five position switches. Off, half and full each way are the only settings."

"Than how am I supposed to control the skid?"

"Either stick at half or full, or use the other method. Since there’s a small range at each position and the jets react slowly in it, keep the switch just barely off a position, and quickly toggle it so that the jets stay at the desired point on their ignition thrust curve," Tycho replied with amusement.

"How in the galaxy am I supposed to pull that off?" Corran snapped back.

"Nobody ever said it was easy, Corran. You do realize they're not intended for combat, don't you? Either stick at half or full, or wait until you've got plenty of practice. Wedge has enough practice, but you don't.

Silently burning inside at that remark, as he closed on the Carrack he resolved to prove Tycho wrong. He found the thumbwheel for the first time, realizing there wasn't much tactile feedback. He linked his lasers for dual fire, and found the second thumbwheel right next to it, setting his shields for double front. Seems easy enough.

As he closed, the Carrack's point defense laser cannons opened up. Time to prove him wrong!Corran quickly toggled the translation switch for left, aiming for about three-quarters power. He pushed the rudder pedals to the right, and was not rewarded by the results. His fighter jerked in its leftward movement, and the nose of his fighter swung between left and right.

Giving up on the attempt, he opted for a simpler one-half left skid and his fighter settled down. Time to do what Wedge did at Vicondor. Linking his laser to duel fire, Corran pulled the trigger.

Quad fire bursts spit from his X-wing's laser cannons, impacting aft of the bridge and to the left of the reticule on his HUD.

Sithspawn! I turned the thumbwheel too far! He quickly thumbed in back one notch. "Tycho, the targeting computer isn't adjusting the aiming point correctly."

"That's since it was never designed to work with those switches. Since your fighter is going to the side, your laser cannon's bolts inherit that sideways movement. I've heard that could be used to hit two TIE's at once if the setup's right. But you have to eyeball it.

As Corran closed Whistler hooted in an urgently. "One, my sensors show your shields as double rear. Is there a problem on board?" Tycho said in a perfectly even tone.

What! Corran glanced down, only to see that Tycho was correct. I must have brushed the other wheel by mistake.

He rammed the thumbwheel forward, accidently firing an unarmed proton torpedo as he depressed the nearly touching firing button.

Sithspawn! He realized he was closing fast on the Carrack, and pulled back on the stick as he added an upward translation.

I'll just barely clear it. He fired pair of proton torpedoes at the bridge, and just barely had time to notice that the translation was not, in fact, contributing before his fighter ran out of room.

The stick slammed into Corran's breastbone as his simulated fighter collided with the Carrack. MISSION END flashed on his screen, and with a hiss the hood on his simulator opened.

Mirax was standing next to the steps to the simulator, giggling. Most of the rest of the squadron, sans-Wedge, was standing there in amusement. This couldn't possibly be worse.

"I hit the Carrack. A big, slow moving target and somehow I hit it," he said, climbing out of the simulator.

Mirax climbed up steps to the simulator as Corran walked down them, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Why didn't the translation work at the end?" Corran asked.

"You know that the ignition panel is angled at 45 degrees, right? Mirax asked."

"Of course."

"And to go up you pulled it back, like with the stick, right?"

"Of course." What is she getting at?

"Well the translation control works the other way round. Since the panel is on an angle, up on the switch is up and down on the switch is down. So by pulling the switch back, you were actually pulling it down, for down."

"Why did they set it up that way?" Corran replied, embarrassment mixed with anger.

"Because it was mostly intended for ground crew, not pilots. The actual Z-95 panel of that type has a front/back switch and a big rotation knob too, but they hacked that part off to get it to fit an X-wing. It was a stopgap part, after all," Mirax finished.

"Everything on the top of the stick is so close together," Corran pointed out, moving on to the other subject. "And it's hard to feel what you're doing."

"I know it is, my dear. That's why Wedge takes his gloves off, so he can feel what he's doing."

"But what if he needs to eject? Or the cockpit is breached?"

"Corran,” she replied with a slight sigh, “he simply hopes he has time to put it on. You have to understand, back when he made the modifications, ejecting almost always meant capture. And there was a rumor Iceheart very much wanted to get her hands on him. Getting killed with your fighter sometimes seamed like the better option.”

“Considering all that, you can see how Wedge saw the tradeoff was worth it,” she continued. “There were also a very few dark rumors that occasionally went around back before Endor that Wedge had disabled his ejection seat, considering what would happen if he got captured," Mirax added.

"Did he?" Corran asked.

"While I happen to know the answer to that question," she replied with a lopsided smile, her eyes sparkling, "I will never confirm nor deny it," Mirax finished before giving Corran a quick kiss.

"So he did," he replied.

"If he didn't I would say the same thing. Maintaining a legend, after all."

"But I know something I can go do to cheer you up if we go back to your quarters," Mirax said, her face almost against Corran's. Taking him by the hand, she started to lead him away.

"Oh," Mirax added, glancing back over her shoulder. "And don't ask about the pool."

"What pool? About just now? Who won?”

"I told you, don't ask."

 

Love the bantering between Corran and Mirax about the tech details.

 

Thanks! It's partly based on the same logic the brought us override codes, and also heavily influenced by plenty of knowledge of rocketry in a certain planet in a certain galaxy a long long time later. (AKA real life) Also, not mentioned but my personal tie-in is that the Z-95 Mara lost at the Katana-fleet battle also has those switches, considering repeated mentions of a skid, although she was mostly restricted skill-wise to half and full. Enjoy the joke about the pool for what would happen when Corran got in the simulator? By the way, find the funny bit about the chocolate in the Corran/Mirax reunion scene?

 

No update this week, Happy Holidays!

 

Chapter 22

The next day Kiyrenaa Thrride had her charges dismissed. Mon Mothma, discovering her appearance, apparently decided that a Coruscant Star of Valor could be awarded by Ackbar away from the holo-cams, rather than wait for Coruscant to be open and a public ceremony. Ackbar had also promoted her to General, and promptly put her in charge of the fleet defending Tepasi as one of the counters to the Imperial fleet at Carida. Rogue Squadron aboard the Mon Ontent was now under her command, with little chance of seeing action in the immediate future.

So it was much to Corran and the rest of Rogue Squadron's surprise that Thrride had quickly started the Rogues on extensive simulator training on pinpoint attacks against Interdictor Cruisers. Stranger still was that it was against weapon emplacements, thrusters and the bridge but ignored the gravity well projectors completely.

After three days of this Corran waited at Rogue Squadron's new quarters for Wedge to return from a briefing on the upcoming mission that they had apparently been training for. It had come somewhat as a surprise, and the entire Tepasi fleet had gone to lightspeed and emerged at an uninhabited system without any prior notice. What seemed to be the entire Brentaal fleet and much of the Kurt sector fleet had joined them there.

As Wedge returned to their quarters, accompanied by Tycho, Corran eagerly spoke up.

"So what's our mission, and when it's going to be?" he asked.

"Can't tell you,” Wedge replied, “security is pretty extreme on this mission. The commanders of the rest of the ships only just now found it out."

"And as for when,” Wedge added, “the answer is now. We're launching in 10 minutes, and then we hype to the target."

"What about the two days of downtime starting tomorrow we were all promised?" Inryi asked with annoyance.

"A ruse," Wedge replied.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she snapped back.


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

Rogue Squadron dropped out of hyperspace an hour after they jumped using coordinates supplied by Commander Antilles.

Corran wasn't overly surprised to find he was at the Carida system as they reverted to realspace. Something else, however, did. Where's the rest of the fleet? We only have 16 ships here?

"Right toward them. Stay with the fleet," Wedge ordered.

What is going on? Ahead of them were eight Dreadnaughts, a quartet of Carracks, two Victorysand an Imperial-I star destroyer, closing on them. Past them was an Interdictor.

"TIE's are launching," Tycho announced.

"New orders. The fleet is going to heading 293.2.”

That'll take us straight into Carida's gravity well. Corran glanced down at his scope, checking the Imperial fleet at long range. The Interdictor had already powered up its gravity well projectors, but was far enough away its cone didn't reach the New Republic fleet.

"ETA on the TIE's is 16 minutes," Tycho announced.

Six minutes and several inexplicable course changes later, the New Republic fleet abruptly changed course and turned to flee.

"New orders," Wedge spoke up. "Our new commander's lost her nerve. The Imp fleet and the gravity well cone will be on top of them just before they clear Carida's gravity well. All fighters are going on a wide circle to hit that Interdictor."

She lost her nerve?, Corran thought.

"There's a lot of grumbling about it on the fleet's channel. Seems she's on the verge of losing her self-control," Tycho added.

"So what do we do?" Inryi asked.

"Follow orders," Wedge replied.

Corran followed orders, grimly. Eight minutes later they were roughly halfway between the Interdictor and the two fleets, which were beginning to get within close range as they ran down the New Republic fleet. As expected, Interdictor's gravity well closed over the New Republic fleet just before they cleared Carida's gravity well.

"We're the fleet's ticket out now," Wedge stated.

"ETA on those TIE's is one minute," Tycho announced. Since the New Republic had a few more fighter squadrons than the Empire did, and the entirety of their starfighter force was committed to going after the Interdictor, all of the TIE squadrons had adjusted course to meet them, ignoring the New Republic fleet.

Without missiles or torpedoes the TIE's couldn't hurt them much anyway.

 

Chapter 22 (cont.)

Whistler suddenly shrieked an urgent warning. 15 Imperial ships had dropped out of hyperspace on the edge of the Interdictor’s cone, at point blank range to the New Republic fleet, and were rapidly moving closer.

"Rogue Squadron, have your droid set your comm encrypt codes back to the current ones. Time for the real plan," Wedge said with pleasure.

"You mean we weren't using the newest codes?" Bror Jace asked.

"Let me guess, our commander wanted the Imps to listen in, and used an old code that's been broken?" Asyr asked.

"Very much so, and plenty of pre-arranged transmissions too. The commander just sent us hyperspace vectors. We're going to lightspeed in 15 seconds.”

What?

"Look at the fleet," Tycho added. Corran glanced over as he brought his fight around, and saw around 25 New Republic warships revert to realspace at the edge of the gravity well cone, at mauling range.

So that's the rest of the fleet.

Corran pulled the hyperdrive lever back on Wedge's mark, leaving the TIE's behind. Pinpoints of light stretched toward a tunnel, and practically before they finished resolved themselves into points again. Dead ahead was the moon that had pulled them out of hyperspace, and a pair of Star Cruisers were to the side. Starfighter squadrons dropped out of hyperspace around them.

"That was interesting," Gavin said to no one in particular.

"Let me guess, somebody's trying Thrawn's tactics out?" Inryi asked.

"Affirmative on that count, Twelve. Here's our vector for going back in."

An equally rapid jump to lightspeed ended in them reverting to realspace at point-blank range from the Interdictor. Two Star Cruisers were closer. Eleven Interceptors scattered, out of the two squadrons the Imperial ship normally carried. Looks like the Imps have been suffering losses too. Another squadron of X-wings was off to their left.

"Rogue squadron, they've got the squints. We're going after the Interdictor as soon as its shields are down."

As Wedge talked, the Star Cruisers had opened up, one moving above it and to the side and another placing itself directly in front of the Interdictor’s bow. Where's that squadron of A-wings? Must have missed the gravity well cone, Wedge thought.

The Star Cruisers abruptly ceased fire. The one to the side slowly dove, it's weapons beginning to engage again against the Interdictor's starboard shields.

"Dorsal shields are down," Wedge barked. "We're going in against every weapon that can fire above it, target plan A2. If you don't remember something, your droids have it. And above all spare the gravity well projectors and the bridge. We need to be fast, but still have torpedoes left.”

Corran headed in, diving on a light ion cannon emplacement. Would never have thought I'd be repaying the favor from two years ago. He weaved as turbolaser fire shot up at him, and fire from the ion cannon passed close abeam. His HUD was fiery red and Whistler was sounding his target lock tone as Corran armed a torpedo.

As the numbers on his range display scrolled down, he centered the targeting reticule on the ion cannon and depressed the firing button. With no time to look at the results, he pulled the stick back and rolled to the left, arming another torpedo. A nearby ion cannon in the same battery was next as he let the torpedo fly.

Out of range and time, Corran pulled up sharply to avoid hitting the Interdictor, as Whistler sounded two tones for two targets hit. Glancing back as he looped around for another run, he saw a torpedo from Ooryl, farther back than Corran and with more time to aim, explode against the fifth and final ion cannon in the battery.

"One, the aft shields are still up. What now?" Asyr asked.