Chapter 6

Sgt. Raynor Vance had the physical frame to be a starfighter pilot. He was short and thin, with black hair that was short and spiky. His eyes, which were currently set on their course, were thin and came to slight points. Vance was human, his skin having a more yellow-ish tint then Mekita’s. D’Amico had seen him around before this mission, and had formed the opinion that he was a quiet man who valued his privacy, something she could admire. She was also informed in her briefing that he was an excellent pilot and she need not worry about his abilities. Regardless of that information, she decided she had wanted to be in the cockpit for their journey to Ra-vel. As Mekita gave her order he nodded solemnly and set the Lambda shuttle towards the asteroids, maneuvering through the area where the obstacles were the least dense.

Halla Caster watched from one of the few portholes on the Renaissance. At least to her relief it hadn’t been very difficult to tell what system they had entered. Not many planets were completely surrounded by a shell of asteroids. Even now she could see the blackness of the spaceport on the otherwise pristine looking planet. Fifteen minutes in the system. It had only taken her five to send her report in a tight beam transmission to the Imperial holonet. In the time since she had sent the message, she had retraced her path to the hanger four times in her head. Each time she imagined a different obstacle in her way. None of them would prove enough though. Once the X-Wings scrambled, she’d follow them out the hanger in the Brightborn. A quick download from her datapad and the nav computer would have her jump coordinates. She would reach Seisin in time for breakfast. Now it was just waiting. Surely the Empire had already received her message. She couldn’t wait to see what they would send to destroy this Rebel operation before it could even get started. Halla felt a smile crawl across her features. “Yes,” she thought, “they’d make a fine example to the galaxy as they were crushed under the Empire’s boot.”

Veid, Shiel, and Nihil stood in the hanger moments after the Shadowskimmer had left. All three were currently on call, so they were dressed in their flight suits. And at the moment, they were all staring at the large wall that connected the hanger to the rest of the ship. Adorning the titanium alloy wall was a large Alliance insignia. The symbol was painted bright yellow, two red X-Wing silhouettes were placed to resemble eyes, and a large mouth was splashed across it. Hanging from the mouth was a smoking cigar and around the symbol was proudly painted, “Home of Problem Squadron.” Shiel covered her mouth as she giggled. Nihil’s face was unreadable from behind the mask. “How did they do this without being seen?” Both women looked at him, a little unsure of his reaction. Nihil was the most distant off all the pilots in the squadron. Veid bit down on her lip a little in anticipation of some sort of outburst. Instead though, Nihil smiled broadly, a gesture hidden by his mask. “The Void Spiders are going to be sooo jealous.” The three laughed loudly as they left the hanger. As they walked out, Veid glanced back over her shoulder, her gaze going out the magcon field and to the now tiny looking three winged shuttle as it moved through the asteroids.

Jace, Rian, and Zwick sat in the mess hall with steaming cups of caff on the table around them. Both Rian and Zwick were dressed in their flight gear. Tubby stood next to the table, carefully watching the men and adding a few beeps and whistles to the conversation whenever he felt it was necessary. Carson Dire was slouched down in a chair away from the others, his head tilted back against the wall. Zwick sipped the caff, grimaced, and filled his cup with another five packets of sugar. “What’s wrong? Could you actually taste the caff,” Jace laughed.

Zwick smiled back. “I happen to have very refined tastes thank you.”

Rian threw a wadded up napkin in Zwick’s direction. “We’ve seen you drink that Irongut before. Any taste buds you had have been long burned away.” Tubby whistled its agreement.

Jace leaned in a little and lowered his voice. “Speaking of Irongut, is your pilot over there alright?”

Rian looked over his shoulder and took a moment to study Carson. Dire was beginning to snore a little his mouth left gapping open. Shadow, Carson’s black astromech, sat quietly observing its passed out master. “Well, he’s not on standby at the moment so there technically isn’t anything I can do.” Rian let out a long sigh. “But I am going to speak with him. Carson is the best pilot I’ve ever seen, he can pull out of this.”

Jace stood up, his caff in one hand the other going to Rian’s shoulder. “You’re taking on a lot of projects buddy. I just hope you don’t get in over your head. I got to go check up on my squad.”

Rian nodded quietly as Jace left. The sentiment had been aimed at him before, but this is the first time it had actually meant something. He had placed his hopes on a people who couldn’t always be trusted. Certainly things had started out in far less then perfect conditions. His squadron was made up of a number of potential problems.

The Malevolence cut through hyperspace and entered the Ra-vel system as only an Imperial Star Destroyer can do. The wedge shaped, gigantic starships were feared throughout the galaxy and for good reason. Each Imperial class Star Destroyer was 1,600 meters long and had a crew numbering over thirty thousand. Not to mention that the Star Destroyer is literally bristling with weaponry in addition to the six squadrons of TIE fighters it can carry. As the Malevolence pushed through space, three of its TIE squadrons sprang from it like enraged hornets exiting a nest. Still a good distance from the Renaissance, they screamed through space eager to get within targeting range. The Star Destroyer followed behind at a more leisurely pace.

Triton Gregg adjusted the accelerator knob on his TIE fighter to keep up with his wingman, TI431. 431 was a good pilot, but had always seemed a little too eager. As Gregg, or TI555, rechecked his flight systems he reminded himself that there could be no mistakes while flying a TIE. Without shields, a mistake meant you were scattered debris floating through space. Things like that tended to give 555 a more reserved style of flying. A few rapid keystrokes on the flight computer increased the sensor range on the proximity alarm. He didn’t want to be caught unaware by any of the asteroids floating around Ra-vel. His eyes drifted into the mass swarm of asteroids surrounding the planet when he noticed a Lambda shuttle maneuvering through it. The three large wings on the shuttle should have made it difficult to move unharmed, but the pilot looked to be moving at full speed with no difficulties. During there briefing they had been told that a number of smugglers would be trying to flee the system once the Malevolence was spotted. Obviously this was one. His eyes lingered a few seconds longer and he realized exactly where the shuttle was heading; straight for their main target. They were smugglers running scared, that ship was full of Rebel traitors trying to group with their comrades.

TI431 popped into his ear as the com unit came to life. “Looks like the Lambda is making a run for the Gallowfree.”

“Acknowledged 431. I think they’re going to reach the target before we do too.”

“They might reach it before you do, but not me.” The engines of 431’s TIE lit up brightly as Gregg cursed. Increasing his own speed, he followed 431, not wanting to leave his wingman open for attack. The Lambda was going to reach its target first. Green laser fire arched out from his wingman’s TIE. There was no way that they’d find their mark, but Triton certainly felt the same sense of frustration.

Dara was leading everyone through a densely packed open-air market when Mekita’s comlink began buzzing loudly. The market itself was so crammed with people only Mekita had heard it. The group had only been on planet for a few minutes, as Dara had been briefed about their contacts and new the city well from past visits. Mekita grasped her com and covered one ear in a vain attempt to block out some of the market’s noise. A group of furred aliens she didn’t recognize passed and she found herself almost choking. Some of these creatures have serious hygiene problems she thought to herself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Skeng slicing some sort of round, yellow fruit. A troubled look creased her brow, none of them had any time to stop and buy anything. This expedition hadn’t been running for long and already she was getting frustrated. A Rodian elbowed his way past her, increasing her annoyance tenfold when the comlink buzzed again. “D’Amico here.”

“Its Vance. Just got a call from home. We’ve got very unfriendly visitors knocking on the front door.”

“Hostels? Have you gotten any word from command?”

“They wanted to know if I could pick you guys up.”

Mekita glanced around the market. The sea of people had made traveling difficult, soon they would all know about the Imperials and traveling would be impossible. Every seconded counted and Raynor’s safety was at the greatest risk. “Negative Vance, we’d never reach you. Get to safety, we’ll just have to switch to our backup plan.”

“Roger that. Keep yourselves safe Problems and take care of Corez for us.”

Despite the situation, Mekita found herself smiling. “We’ll bring her back in one piece. Be careful Vance. Mekita out.” The rest of the group’s eyes were glued on her. The noise of the market had kept them from hearing everything, but no doubt they had the gist of it. Mekita looked up to the sky and let out a long sigh. “Well I’m sure you can all guess it by now, but we’ve got a serious change in plans.” Already there was a hushed murmur of panic beginning to move through the crowd. The people could tell something was wrong, it was just a feeling in the air and they were quickly acting accordingly. Many of the vendors were beginning to pack up their wares.

Tami placed a hand over her eyes to shield it from the sun and watched a few departing freighters as they took off over the skyline. “Well then, now what do we do?”

Mekita reattached her comlink to her belt and put on a look of determination. “Lin’Say, take us someplace we can find a pilot we can trust. We have a week to reach our pick up point. Corez, keep your eyes open for trouble. Cooper, if I even think your doing something that can endanger us, I’m going to shoot you myself.” The Carthain gave a look of shock, before he could respond she continued. “Before you act outraged I already saw you lifting fruit so save the Bantha fodder for someone who’ll believe it.” Dara laughed as Skeng took on a semi-crestfallen look.

Dara had begun moving them again when someone swimming in the ocean of people screamed, “The Imperials are coming!” Everything had already been tense, but in that second the mood changed drastically. A large portion of the crowd tried to take off in a run at the same time. People who had at one point been almost polite began using knees and elbows to get where they were going quicker. More screams rang out as a warning claxon filled the air. More shuttles and freighters were in the sky now, quickly trying to exit the planet before the Empire could reach them. Skeng kept tightly behind Dara, watching her one lekku bob up and down as she pushed through the crowd. He could feel Corez holding onto the back of his belt, keeping the smaller woman from getting lost in the mass confusion. His eyes flitted around the bodies they moved pass. As Dara was pressing against a well-dressed man Skeng took a moment to lift the man’s wallet. After all, if they were booking passage off planet, they might need all they money they could get a hold of. At least that’s what he told himself.

The Lambda shuttle just cleared the hanger doors of the larger ship when Gregg and his wingman had reached them. As the rest of the squadron was charging in he eased off on the throttle. 431 streaked out ahead of him and sent a pair of laser blasts sailing towards the ship’s hull. TI555 shifted in his seat, the ship was trying to run. That made sense, but it had a compliment of fighters, why wasn’t it using them? He cursed silently as it dawned on him. Because it had enough firepower on it’s own to deal with the TIEs. “Everyone fall back, the ship is armed.” Not seconds after his warning he noticed the three large pods on the top of the ship drop open and reveal turbolaser batteries. 431’s craft arced up after making its attack run and was engulfed in a red beam that all but melted the craft. Near the belly of the ship he saw another TIE floating helplessly, blue lightning coursing over its surface. Evidently the ship had ion cannons mounted on its undercarriage. Triton pulled hard on his control yoke and veered to the port seconds before a laser blast streaked its way towards him. Letting out a long sigh of relief he quickly got back to business and tried to find a way to bring the Rebel ship down.

Halla Caster started towards the hanger as soon as she had heard the commotion. Her ankle still hurt, but Shoe, the Void Spider’s medic had wrapped it in a sling that had made it possible to walk in. Shoe’s name was actually Steno Tebok. Shoe was a thin wiry man whose great strength was often misjudged. His skin was a light chocolate color and his black hair was kept close to his scalp. While wrapping her ankle he told the story of his current nickname. When Steno was assigned to the unit he quickly made it know that he would not be saddled with the nickname “Doc.” Apparently during a night of lum guzzling one of the Spiders, no one can remember exactly who started it, decided to begin calling him Shoe. Not thinking that it would stick, Steno shrugged and claimed that it was still better then Doc. He hasn’t been able to shake the odd nickname sense. Halla had almost begun to like the man, nowhere near the relationship she had begun to grow with his commander Jace, but it was starting.

As Halla got to the hangar’s door she slid a hand into her vest. Her hand wrapped around the grip of her holdout blaster. Tinges of doubt moved through her thoughts. Did she really want to leave Jace? Surely she could make the Rebel see the error of his ways. He couldn’t really be that loyal to this Rebellion could he? She sighed loudly and pushed herself through the doorway. Of course he was. As she entered the hanger she ignored the garish yellow Problem Squadron logo on the wall and her eyes fell to the star fighters still filling the hanger. Not only were the fighters there, but so were their pilots. Vance Raynor was exiting the lambda even as the door shut behind her. Many of the pilots looked up to her, immediately putting her on the spot. Why weren’t they engaging the enemy? It didn’t make any sense.

Zwick was approaching her, calling back over his shoulder to someone in laughter. As he neared her he ran a gloved hand through his slicked back hair and offered a smile. “Doctor Towar, this might not be the safest place right now.”

Halla looked around, almost forgetting her cover she was so angry. How could she be stuck with them a second time? There was no way she could even get near one of the shuttles, much less an X-wing right now. Her shoulders slumped a little and she balled her hands into fists to prevent any of her rage from showing. “I had figured you’d be getting ready to fight. I wanted to help.” She looked around again and let out a long sigh as she tried to control her breathing. “I guess it was a silly though, I don’t even know what I could do down here.”

Zwick smiled again, his eyes darting back to the rest of the squadron. “That’s sweet. We’re moving to jump out of system though. So there really isn’t much to do down here. Besides if you got hurt Jace would have our skins.”

At the mention of Darkmere’s name Halla lowered her gaze and forced her cheeks to flush. “But what about the supplies? We didn’t leave anyone down there did we?”

Zwick looked antsy as he listened to her. It was obvious the pilots had come to consider this there domain and probably felt like they were babysitting her here. Staamas was obviously longing to rejoin his friends. As Raynor moved to join them Zwick smiled broadly and patted him on the shoulder. “Vance can fill you in. But everyone planet side should be pretty safe.” The young pilot ran off to join the others just as the ship shook. Zwick almost tumbled to his feet, causing a number of cheers and whistles from the others.

On the bridge Colonel Sloan was near frantic. He stood behind his chair and grasped the back of it in his hands. His knuckles had turned bright white from the iron grip he had. His voice though was streaked with urgency was calm. “Captain, we need a course set for Luvium and we need it set five minutes ago. Gunners, it looks like the TIEs are going for our belly, make sure those ion cannons are ready for them.” Jace and Rian looked on with a new sense of respect, what had seemed like a whiny, spineless man suddenly became a competent leader under fire. Captain Sardina was too busy at the moment to let the other two Captains know that he agreed with them, but he certainly was beginning to feel the same way. The ship rocked from the impact of the TIE fighter’s attack run.

Rian spoke up over the bridge crew’s din. “Sir, you’ve got us going to Luvium?”

Sloan turned around, the wrinkles around his eyes looked much deeper, and there was an inherent weariness in his gaze. “There are some operatives there, as you well know Captain. Our coming may endanger them, but in the long it’s the only choice we have. We need supplies and we need them now. Your ships have what? Maybe an hours worth of fuel. We’re going to Luvium, may the Force protect us.”

The ship rocked again and one of the crewmen looked a little panicked. “Shields are at seventy-five percent sir, but the Star Destroyer will be able to reach us just under two minutes.”

Sloan’s eyes glue onto the Star Destroyer outside, it was easily visible through windows of the bridge. “I see. How long until we have those nav coordinates?”

“Maybe another minute sir.”

Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “Keep pushing the engines to try and get us out of here. As soon as the coordinates come up, make the jump. It appears this is going to be close.”

Triton fired another serious of blasts into the fleeing ship. He watched the ion cannon swivel towards his fighter and screamed, “Break!” into his com. Like clockwork the three remaining TIE fighters with him all pulled off into different directions. Gregg threw his fighter into the tight area that was just between the fire arcs of the ion cannons and turbolasers. He had found it watching the way the cannons moved and now circled the ship as the other three were regrouping. He took two more shots that were eaten by the shields in blue flashes and then pulled away before being hit by the engine wash.

All four TIE fighters then reformed, red lances of laser fire trying to reach the small craft. Already two thirds of the squadron had been taken out. Gregg sighed when he thought about it; it would not look good for him back aboard the Malevolence. His com then came echoed in his ear, “TI555, bring your men back to hanger four.”

Triton flinched at the command. The voice had been rather emotionless, so it was impossible to tell how badly the squadron’s failure would reflect on him. In fact he had only been the squadron’s second in command, their commander eaten early on by a turbolaser. “Acknowledged, command.” Switching back the squadron frequency he felt as if there was a lead weight in his stomach. “I’m sure you all heard him. Pull back and prepare to land.” There were no replies over the com, none of them were happy with the results. Even as the Star Destroyer’s turbolasers began to arc after the spacecraft, Triton knew they were still too far to do any damage. He was crawling out of his TIE he knew that the Rebels had gotten away. No one had to tell him that. More then likely his career was over as well, but only time would tell there.

The Renaissance shook from another series of blasts. The few remaining TIE fighters were good. The pilots weren’t having any trouble making themselves difficult targets. The Star Destroyer was still looming into view. There was a slight flicker as the lights dimmed for a second. “Sir, we’re down to twenty percent shields.”

Sloan growled, “When are we going to have those damn coordinates? How long till the Destroyer is in range?” The answers came from different bridge stations. A few more seconds and they could make the jump to hyperspace, double that and the heavy firepower of an Imperial Star Destroyer would be breathing down their necks. He slowly peeled his fingers from the chair, the indentions in the padding still there. Every second seemed to pull into an eternity. Someone remarked about the Star Destroyer firing and then the Renaissance leaped into hyperspace. The bridge crew broke into applause. Rian laughed, not realizing he had been holding his breath. The Colonel looked everyone over and smiled. “Good job. I’ll be in my quarters. Captains, meet me in thirty minutes. We need to have a long talk.”

Triton Gregg dropped down to the floor only to find a small detail of six Stormtroopers waiting for him. Shock ran through his mind. He had expected to face serious reprimands, but nothing that would require an armed guard. Not even a word was passed between the troopers in him, he merely fell in step and let them guide him wherever it was he needed to be. He began to question his fate when it turned out to be a rather non-descript meeting room. The troopers took up positions near the door, but none of them entered. Gregg could feel the anxiety building in his stomach, he was becoming more then a little sick. Finally though he pushed himself onward and slid the door open.

The interior of the room was nothing out of the ordinary. The walls were free of any ornamentation and there was a small, but serviceable table in the center of the room. Two chairs, directly across from one another, also sat in the room. In one of the chairs was a man he didn’t recognize. He was wearing the uniform of an Imperial Lieutenant although his thin features and build made him look almost frail. The man’s eyes seemed a little too large for his face, but he otherwise had a very plain visage. He looked up at Triton and waved at the chair. “TI555? Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. We have some things to discuss.