Admiral Kramer looked out over the Main Bridge Viewport and saw his fleet ready for battle. Unfortunately, there was no battle to be fought, yet. And entire Battle Group stood ready to squash a Rebel Fleet that supposedly was no where near by. A pity. As Kramer again scanned the area, he saw a faint flash, then nothing. He began to wonder about its origin when Wing Commander Sarok interrupted his reverie.

"What's the latest report?" he asked.

"Nothing, as before." Sarok responded. "Nothing for days. When will Intel actually be correct?"

"That's an oxymoron." Kramer replied.

The flash showed up again, but in a different spot and in greater numbers, at least two dozen.

"Did you see that?" Kramer and Sarok asked in unison.

Neither had time to answer one another before the Radar Officer cut into the conversation.

"I'm picking up 27 Unidentified Craft approaching, all in tight formation." he paused. "They're skipping in and out of radar, like they're using cloaks or something."

Kramer hardly noticed the officers poor terminology, as he focused on the incoming ships. "Raise all defenses and open fire."

As green bolts lanced out from the vessel and covered the targets, they unleashed a total of 100 Heavy Rockets before jumping to hyperspace. The warheads went seemingly unnoticed in the confusion towards their target. The radar operators were more concerned with counting kills than anything else.

They weren't moments later, as the warheads plowed through they shields and into the hull.

The barrage of rockets brought the Sovereign's hull down to 76%.

"Damage Report from all decks! I want any and ALL reports of this incident on my desk in 5 minutes! ANYONE who can help identify these things are to be in the Briefing Room in 15 minutes!"

Kramer turned to Sarok. "Assemble the Wing I pilots in the Main Briefing Room in thirty minutes. MOVE!"

BG Fireclaw was in the gymnasium. He hardly heard the battle, but the vibration and roar of warheads incinerating hull metal was unmistakable. The red lights flashed and Fireclaw, alone in the gym, moved to the communications console to report no damage or casualties. He figured about a half hour before Wing I pilots were called to the Briefing Room. Plenty of time.

He decided to go down to the Briefing Room and have a drink before the patrol would take place.

Surprisingly, many other pilots had the same idea. Either that, or they were already too drunk to notice the skirmish. Fireclaw sat in a corner with his superior officers: LG Wolly, his Beta Squadron Commander; BG Yacko, Cyclone Squadron Commander; and BG Tad Taliesin, Commander of Epsilon Squadron. Tensions were high in Pilot Country. As the crowd moved about, the trio in the corner overheard an argument near them.

"My TIE Defender could take out your Assault Gunboats any day!" boasted a pilot from Wing II.

"Maybe the fighter could, but you couldn't!" shot back another from Wing II.

"And while you're cleaning up Theta Squadron," offered a third, "My TIE Advanced comes in and finishes you off."

"If it has enough firepower!" taunted the second.

"At least I don't need an SSD's worth of shields to protect me!" the first came back.

Out of nowhere, the second pilot slugged the first, and a fistfight began.

Fireclaw, calmly, drank half of his drink, stood up, staggered over to the feuding pilots, and got their attention. "Excuse me."

The pilots stopped at the order of the higher rank. Fireclaw decked both of them.

"Thank you." he said, turning away from both of the pilots, now lying on the floor.

Fireclaw staggered back to his table, downed the rest of his drink, and said: "I'll be on the sh!tter." At that, he stumbled out of the lounge. Tad and Yacko looked at Wolly in amazement.

"I used to serve with him, but I never seen him act like that." proclaimed Tad.

"No more Guinness for that boy!" stated Yacko.

"You gotta get to know him." Wolly put in. "He' s really rather interesting when he's sober."

Then RA Sarok stepped into Pilot Country. He's the kind of man who attracts attention whenever he's around, and everyone present stopped to hear him speak.

Clearing his throat, he began...

"Alright, here's what's happened. Twenty minutes ago, as most of you probably know, three squadrons of Rebel fighters jumped us. Their warheads caused severe damage to the Sov, and we have 47 casualties. We lost one turbolaser in the assault. The rebel fighters had some sort of cloaking mechanism on their ships, so they were able to pass through all defenses. According to reports, the Infiltrator Wing has encountered similar craft, and they have been classified "C-Wings", because of the Cloaking device and because they do, indeed, look like the letter 'C'.

For more information, I want all Wing I pilots to report to the Main Briefing Room in ten minutes. The same message will be repeated throughout the ship momentarily to accommodate for all pilots not present here." Sarok reported.

"Why Wing I?" asked a Wing II pilot with a broken nose. "You guys are a bunch of drunkards!"

"Cause we've got enough skills to afford to fly drunk." Countered Wolly, defiantly downing a glass of Whiskey.

"Aaaahhh!" the other replied.

"Wolly," Sarok said on his way out, "Tell Fireclaw he better stop behaving or I won't be able to save his career again."

"Aye, sir." Said Wolly.

Wolly found himself in the Main Briefing Room five minutes later, where pilots had already begun gathering. As usual, Fireclaw was late and, after receiving a brief scolding from Sarok, he sat down and the presentation began.

"This is BG Alastery, from the IW." Sarok introduced the female pilot.

"The fighters have good agility and high top speeds. In the one recorded battle, we counted as many as 8 missiles fired from a single fighter, and we believe that, according to new data, they may be capable of as many as 12."

A large, 3-D model of the fighters appeared on the main floor. "The fighter shown here is what we encountered, and we believe that this is also what you were attacked by. It has four laser cannons, mounted much like they are on MIST Corporations K-Wing (shameless plug, I know J) and the missile launchers are possibly mounted in tubes along the fuselage, just behind the cockpit." The model closed around a tube in the fuselage. "This is installed the same way as a launcher on an X-Wing, and is well protected.

"A full report is under your chairs." She continued. "And I suggest you look at it. Rear Admiral Sarok."

"Alpha Squadron will deploy as recon and defense for a half hour, then Beta will come in. The two squadrons will scout out nearby systems and then report back to be relieved by Gamma Squadron. Then the cycle will continue until we are attacked or we find them. Dismissed."

"Let's kick the tires and light the fires, buddy!" Fireclaw commented to Wolly as they walked to the hangar to go over status reports and tweak their fighters a little.

"Ah man! This freakin' sucks. There's FINALLY some rebel action around us, we're all eager to kick ass, and we get benched!" wined Captain Deuce.

"Oh do shut up." Commented his commander. " We are not benched! We just aren't first to hit the vac. Now go back to the lounge and slam a few back. That's an order. You need to settle your emotions, you'll wind up getting

yourself killed."

Walking to the briefing room exit, BG Tad let his troublesome pilot go down to the Cantina. Waiting for RA Sarok to get clear of some others wanting to talk to him, Tad fell in step with him as they made their way back to Wing I quarters.

"Sir, I was thinking, this whole incident stinks. They rebels aren't ones to play hide and go seek unless it is to their benefit. It's all very suspicious, and I think I have some legitimate reasoning to back up my thoughts." Tad spoke.

"Well, don't prattle, let's here it." Sarok replied.

"Okay. Seeing as how these Rebels popped in, launched their salvoes and then took off, and used this new craft to do such a thing, don't you find it a little strange that they didn't sent in some caps to finish us off? I mean, it was just a group of fighters ... and they reduced us to like 3/4 hull, I'm sure they could have sent in a cruiser, with it's fighter compliment, and finished us off before they themselves were destroyed." Tad rambled on.

"Yeesss." Sarok said, quirkily. "Continue."

"Well, since they didn't, my guess is that somewhere, in a neighboring sector, Minos Cluster most likely, the Rebels have some kind of command station built ... and right under our noses. It's either that or they are amassing a fleet somewhere close by, but that is doubtful because they would have attacked all at once, not this hit and fade tactic. Surprise is their strongest ally, and they just gave it up. And why? It's because they want us to do exactly what we are doing. They flash this fancy new ship in front of our faces, show that they have their own version of our Missile Boat, and then they take off. They WANT us to go looking for them, to stumble onto this base, where their defenses will no doubt obliterate those unfortunate souls who find them." Tad spoke out.

Stopping to take a quick breath, he continued to speak, "Or at least they're hoping we'll reduce the number of defense fighters we have, so that they can jump in a face a smaller number of enemies. I recommend that the Sov sits tight, as the plan, but instead of the patrol sweeps, we should only send out our scouts, Delta. Make it look like where tagging along."

"For Delta's benefit, they can fly in a known circle, to make sure they don't accidentally stumble onto this possible base."

"Then, we send Epsilon and Lambda out to the edge of Aurora, where they'll be able to hyper in at a moments notice. Beta will get suited up and set to launch straight from the hanger. If the Rebels are waiting for us, all we have to do is out-wait them."

"Eventually they'll gain back enough balls to pull the same maneuver, sending in the C-Wings. The second anybody sees or hears something not right, we throw the switch. Epsilon and Lambda hyper back home, cutting off their left and right rear exits. Beta launches straight at them. Hopefully, we can destroy them all before they either launch their projectiles or they try to hyper back out. And if possible, even catch and/or board one, for analysis." Tad concluded.

They continued further down the hallway. Finally Sarok gave a reply, "Well, BG Tad, this seems like a very plausible strategy. But what of these C-Wings? They have cloaks, it could be too late before we can catch them."

"Yes, I know. Timing is the key factor here. Go too soon and they simply don't show, go too late, well, there may be nothing left to go. But if I'm not mistaken, I heard someone mention that their was random lite-ups an the sensors just before the ships showed. Maybe their cloaks aren't fully operational, or this is some kind of by-product to their cloaks? Now that we know what to look for, it should be easy to know when to give the go. Just wait for the radar glitch." Tad offered.

"And if we don't get that glitch this time?" Sarok retorted.

"At least our fighters will be HERE, ready to go, not out gallivanting the sector." Tad spoke, his voice a little more angered, a little more eager. "Even though this has its faults, I believe that this is the correct action we should be taking. We don't know their strength, numbers, ability, NOTHING! All we know is that they have a bunch of C-Wings that can launch a number of warheads, and that they felt like showing them to us. In this situation, it is unwise to go on the offensive. I know that is the Imperial way, but the old Empire has died. We must learn from that to regain our glory. Right now, a defensive position is best, a defensive trap is even better."

Finally reaching the Wing Commanders office, the two stopped just outside.

"Well Commander." Sarok spoke up. "You have definitely put some thought into this, and given me some of my own. It still has its faults, as you say. I am scheduled for a meeting with the COM and other Wing Commanders in two hours, I will bring it up then. Now, if you don't mind, I have some heavy preparation to be doing, for a battle is no doubt waiting in our near future."

With that, RA Sarok turned around and entered his office, leaving BG Tad in the hallway, by himself.

Feeling a little frustrated at himself, for not properly conveying his plan to the point of conviction, Tad decided to do what any other pilot would do in this situation, drink. He headed for the Cantina, a double shot of rye-whiskey should do good.

Unbeknownst to his superiors and anyone else, DS-61-3, a.k.a. Vor, had already modified his MIS. He improved nearly every aspect of the fighter's design, and had been careful not to reveal the fact. However, his unknown capabilities were soon to be revealed.

Deep in the bowels of the Sovereign, the missile boats of Gamma Squad were being hauled out of the hangars and brought to the launch areas. They were not to be launched for a while, but the CO of the Sovereign wanted them at plus ten, meaning the first ones could be launched in ten minutes in needed.

Back in pilot country, the members of Gamma Squad were suiting up.

"Hey, kid! Get over here!" GN Raven called, insulting Vor, who was older than Raven.

"Whaddaya want?"

"Do you know where LaCourse is? I haven't seen him for a while."

"Hey, man, last I saw of him, he was off in some bar chugging some Lomiin ale, and raving on about his ex-girlfriend," Vor replied. "Maybe you could set me up for a promotion to commander."

"Fat chance, knucklehead! I outrank you!" Raven said.

"Yeah, but the question is, could you outfly me?" Vor asked.

Raven began to turn red, angry that a subordinate would dare to insult him that way. "Just remember that when I toast your ship in some unknown system."

"Well, mister redface, we can't go risking a court-martial, can we?" Vor taunted.

"Shut up and get to your ship. That's an order!"

Vor and the rest of his squadron finished their preflights and strapped in. Alpha and Beta squads had already launched, and so the Gammas had nothing to do. Vor punched up the limiter program that was designed to restrict his MIS to the capabilities of the others. After checking that his modifications were still working, he disabled the program. The little fighter shook for a minute as the reactor powered up and the tight-beam wave-shift laser cannon (basically, a turbolaser for fighters), the uprated engines, and the improved dual-type shields energized.

"Gammas, report!" That was the Air Boss.

"Gamma lead, go!" GN Force Master.

"Gamma 2, standing by." Raven.

"Gamma 3, standing by." Vor.

"Hey, guys? This is Gamma 4. I got a problem here. My reactor won't start," said Warchild. He was the newest one to the squadron, and his ship was always breaking down. A chorus of "Dang it!"s could be heard on the comm.

"Very well, Gamma 4. We're dispatching a maintenance crew. ETA 5."

"Copy that, Sovereign."

Ten minutes later, it was determined that the ship was beyond repair and had to be scrapped.

"Guess you'll have to sit this one out, Warchild," Raven said.

Warchild responded with a sarcastic "Thanks a lot." Obviously dismayed, he made his way to the tactical/strategic observation room, where he could monitor the rest of his squadron's progress and anything else that was happening. All that was visible at the moment were the Sovereign's escorts, routine fighter patrols, and the ships of Alpha and Beta squadrons.

Good luck, guys he thought.

The mottled gray depths of oblivion became starlines, then starlight as the shuttle Ellana dropped out of hyperspace. The shuttle engaged its sublight drive and soon fell in the shadow of its destination: the SSSD Sovereign, pride of the Emperor's Hammer Strike Force. The Sovereign was normally an impressive sight to behold, invincible and majestic. But now, the Sovereign looked more like a wounded animal, with dozens of repair tugs and space suited technicians scurrying about several large blackened burn marks in the mighty ship's bow. The shuttle's passengers, EH personnel recalled to active duty from shore leave on Aurora Prime, had spent the four-hour voyage groaning over the unexpected end of their vacations. But upon seeing their mother ship scarred and wounded, the men were filled with anger and outrage, but more so with determination, determination to avenge their mother ship upon whoever had dared to violate it so. Forcefields sealed themselves behind the Ellana as it entered one of the Sovereign's hanger bays, and soon the shuttle landed on the cold steel floor of the hanger deck. The EH personnel quietly and quickly departed from the shuttle, each thinking less and less of their lost R&R, and more and more of the duties that awaited them. Once more into the flames, thought Brigadier General Flash as he walked down the shuttle ramp and into the heart of his true home, the Sovereign.

"I'm sorry, BG Flash", said Rear Admiral Sarok, "but Wing I was ordered to deploy immediately. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma squadrons are already in space, and by the time your Delta TIE Defenders could be brought out of maintenance and prepped for battle, the rest of Wing I would already have engaged the enemy."

BG Flash sat solemnly in RA Sarok's office as his commanding officer shattered his hopes of avenging this monstrous insult upon the Sovereign.

"So are we getting perimeter patrol around the Sovereign with those Wing IV newbies again?", said BG Flash, calm and controlled, yet unable to hide his irritation.

"No", RA Sarok said flatly.

"Short range reconnaissance?", suspiciously asked BG Flash.

"No", said RA Sarok.

BG Flash started, "Personnel shuttle escor..."

"No. No routine assignments this time", said RA Sarok, a hit of a smile crossing his battle-worn face, "I have a special task for you."

Sitting there, for hours on end, got to be rather difficult. Epsilon had been on a 2 min call for nearly 30 hours, only taking breaks, in turns, to use the 'fresher and grab something to eat. The pilots were restless, anxious and very tired.

"BG Tad to RA Sarok, you there sir?" Tad said into his com.

"What do ya want Tad? I'm kinda in the middle of something here" RA Sarok replied. Female laughter could be heard in the background.

"Uh" Tad, unsure of what to say just then, stumbled in his words, making him look like a complete fool.

"Damnit Tad!" Sarok shouted. "Talk to the Commodore if you feel like muttering. I have better ... business ... to attend to" A hinting smile creeping across his face. Sarok, looking past the view screen, suddenly got up and walked away. More laughter could be heard. Seeing at how his Wing Commander had so graciously left the channel open, he debated on whether or not he should be relaying this to the squad, to keep them entertained and their spirits up.

"Naw" he thought, only get me in trouble...

Closing the transmission, he was about to punch in the COM when an incoming message popped up. "Commander Tad?" asked Admiral Kramer.

"Yes sir!" Tad said, trying his best to brown-nose "I was just about to call you. My squad has been on 2 minute call for almost 30 hours now. We need to either be relieved, or get out there and KILL something!" Tad said, getting a little anxious.

"Calm down there son." AD Kramer said. "We're getting ... glitches ... on our sensors. Alpha, Gamma and Delta are fairly far out, in search. You are to launch immediately and rendezvous with Beta, who is out circling on patrol. Lambda is scrambling to their ships, and will be out soon. This may be another assault. Show 'em what we're made of. Kramer out" The transmission cut out.

Tad keyed in the Squad-wide com. "Okay boys. I've just received word. We're punching out, meeting up with the big boys, and gonna do a little showing off. Let's kick some ass!"

Some 47 clicks away....

"Red Leader, I'm reading another ... 8 defenders and 4, looks like GUNs. Might be those Missile Boats. can't tell. We should get closer in."

"Hold on Scout. Waiting for word from above. No go until they say."

"I say we go NOW!" broke in another. "Something's up. They're doubling patrols. They must be getting the sensor glitches. Damn scientists. They should have made this better before making us risk our necks in them....

"Ah, well welcome BG Tad. I see you have come to watch how the pro's do this, eh?" commented LG Wolly.

"HAH!" laughed Tad. "We've come to shoe the PRO'S how the EXPERTS do it!" Tad replied, thinking rather highly of himself for that comeback.

"Uh" Wolly stuttered. "Do you know that pro and expert, uh .... oh never mind!"

"And who's the one who grew up speaking basic? geesh!" thought Wolly.

"TAD! TAD! I'm getting 3 ... 3 ... 3 SOMETHING! I don't know what it is, I can't get a clear reading, but there's 3, no wait, there's .... 5, 6, 8 ... 12 ... 18 ... 23 ... 32! Oh man. We got a royal rumble now. I'm reading 32 unidentified somethings." rambled GN Assassin.

"That's a copy on that one" said BG Stanzer.

"Ah, Lambda. How nice of you to join us here" said LG Wolly, in his cheery manner.

"This is Rear Admiral Sarok to Wing I, do you guys out there read me?"

"Yes sir!" replied the 3 Commanders.

"Glad to see you've finished with that business of yours there, sir." added BG Tad

"Uh, ya." Sarok replied. His face turning a little red. Anyways, we're picking up 48, I repeat, 48 unidentifiable glitches. Suspected to be the C-Wings. They're still out of range before we can get visual confirmation. You 3 are to intercept and destroy. Alpha is returning to defend the SSSD Sov. Gamma... Gamma appears to be lost"

"Lost sir?" asked BG Tad

"Yes, we haven't heard from them in some time. We only hope the best."

"And what of Delta squadron?" asked LG Wolly.

"They're, uh ... BG Flash has his orders. You have yours. Sarok out."

Tad flicked on the com to speak to his Flight Leaders. "Okay Assassin, Silver Fox. We actually facing 48 lil snot rags here. You might want to get your sensors checked when we return Assassin. Remember, just one of these babies has the firepower to take out our whole squad. We can NOT let them get through to the Sov. You've done the drills. Now is the test. Like I told you earlier. Let's kick some ass!"

BG Fireclaw looked outside his Missile Boat cockpit and saw nothing. But when he looked at his CMD he knew there was something out there. He may never know what, but he sure as hell would try to find out.

"Bandits in range!" Cried BG Tad.

"All squadrons break and attack!" Ordered LG Wolly, the superior Officer.

"This is BG Fireclaw, taking it to 'em!" Fireclaw grunted, breaking formation and peppering the enemy formation with advanced concussion missiles. He activated the Flight Computers tracking system, which would tally up the missile hits/misses/kills when the battle was over. The lasers would automatically record such information.

"Targets in range...Looks like those C-Wings Alastery was talking about in that briefing...HOLY---!!!" Wolly broke off.

Out of nowhere 8 massive battle cruisers de-cloaked. Each monstrosity would have been three times the size of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.

"Uuummmm...HELP!!!!! SSSD Sovereign, why the *&^S) aren't we getting reinforcements!??!?!?!" Fireclaw yelled.

"We're all tied up over here, Fireclaw!" replied AD Kramer, with the sounds of explosions in the background.

"This is BG Fireclaw, requesting permission to engage the enemy Command Ships."

"Permission granted." Wolly responded. He knew that Fireclaws modified MIS could do the trick...it had been outfitted with the capability to hold 15 Heavy Rockets and had two Turbo Cannons instead of one laser.

Fireclaw neatly sliced through the squadron of fighters he was engaging and broke away towards the enemy fleet. He passed through standard turbolaser range and got up close towards the ships. As he closed the distance, he noticed that they weren't armed and merely relied on numbers to overwhelm the enemy. As Claw began to launch his Rockets, he also noticed that only three or four were needed to down the great vessels.

After the first ship exploded, the 8 squadrons of fighters it carried began to self-destruct as well. Fireclaw noted the weakness and said: "All Missile Boats, torpedo the Command ships and the fighters will fall."

Fireclaw took out two other Command Ships and then heard the following message:

"This is Admiral Kramer of the SSSD Sovereign ordering all available ships to hyperspace to Hela in the Phare System. We have taken severe casualties and require assistance. Repeat- Please----" He was cut off. Fireclaw jumped into hyperspace, leaving the rest of his Squadron behind, despite his Commanders repeated screaming at him to stay.

"Hey guys?" Gamma lead's voice crackled over the comm. "I got some funny signal here... sounds like there's a problem over in the Phare system an' the want us to haul a$$ over there. Who says we stay?"

Dead silence.

"Okay, I guess that means we go. Navicomps locked in, jump on three. One! Two! Three!" The missile boats of Gamma Squad stretched realspace and fell into infinity.

Alone in the solitude of hyperspace, Vor began feeling queasy. Something's not right here he thought. His suspicions were confirmed when, which a scream of tortured metal loud enough to wake the dead, the three ships dropped out of hyperspace in the middle of a battle.

"What the heck? Lead, what's goin' on here?" Gamma 2 asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Form up, Gammas, and we'll take a look at the situation."

A visual scan showed everything, though it was decidedly confusing. An interdictor cruiser was sitting in space with a wing of rebel fighters pounding a star destroyer. The targeting comp., which had been scrambled during the emergency cutoff, reported the interdictor as the Rebel's Corusca Rainbow, which explained a lot.

"All right, men. Attack the interdictor. Engage SLAMS!" Gamma lead ordered. One of the missile boats shot from the formation and began launching torpedoes.

"Three, what are you doing?" lead asked

"What's it look like?"

"Attacking."

"Ding ding ding! He gets the thousand-cred question right!"

By then, Vor was at the interdictor, pounding away with his turbolaser. The rebels, intimidated by Vor's MIS, jumped out. The INT wasn't so lucky.

The missile boats, now with messed-up hyperdrives, headed for the star destroyer Vanguard, which was the one getting pounded by the rebels.

Delta Squadron raced through the cold blackness of space on a very important mission. GN Tuba's eyes scrutinized the sensor display closely, willing the target to appear. This time like many before, the screen only revealed the eternal void. He thought back to the meeting with BG Flash and RA Sarok a mere two days before...

GN Tuba entered the Wing Commander's office, snapped to attention and saluted. He had only spoken directly with the WC a few times before and was a bit on-edge.

"At ease," RA Sarok responded after returning the salute. "As I was just telling BG Flash, I've called you both here for an important assignment. How much do you know about sensors?" Both pilots exchanged a puzzled look.

BG Flash responded first, "Well sir, our Defenders carry the usual Electro-Photo Receptors for targeting sensors and, since we're a recon squadron, the Full-Spectrum Transceivers have been replaced with the more sensitive Dedicated Energy Receptors."

"Yes, I'm aware of all that," RA Sarok replied, "but how much do you know about Crystal Gravfield Traps?"

GN Tuba straightened a bit, "I'll field that one sir. CGT's are bulky, expensive sensor suites mainly used aboard our Star Destroyers for extremely long range detection of gravitic field fluctuations, such as those produced by a ship or stellar object. A project was undertaken several years ago to outfit a starfighter with a working CGT but it was deemed impractical and abandoned since the craft was left with little combat capability due to the size and energy consumption of the CGT."

"Quite impressive, General. Except for one minor detail: the project was never cancelled."

GN Tuba was surprised. "But sir, I was one of the test pilots for the TIE/CGT. It didn't work!"

"No, at that time it didn't, but the project was continued in secret after your departure to join Delta Squadron. Recent advances in our technology have made it possible to outfit a starfighter with the CGT, suffering only minor loss of combat effectiveness. So far we've only successfully mounted the CGT on a TIE Defender since it's the only fighter with enough power to handle the modifications."

"Sir, why do we need something that elaborate to find the attacking ships? Didn't our sensor outposts warn us before the raiders hit?" BG Flash inquired.

"Yes, but we only received sporadic readings and then only when the attacking vessels were within missile range. All this points to some kind of cloaking technology, and we want to use the T/D-CGT to find them and their base."

GN Tuba was the first to respond; "Didn't the CGT onboard Sovereign pick up the attackers?"

"It did, but the reading was unlike a normal sensor detection. Instead of a series of defined sensor blips, they were irregular and erratic. Our operator thought it was just a meteor shower. You should carefully analyze the data so you don't make the same mistake."

"We will begin immediately, sir," BG Flash replied. How many of the specially equipped ships will you provide us with?"

RA Sarok shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately we only have a single prototype ready to go. Study its specs so you'll know its strengths and weaknesses. I leave it to your discretion to choose the pilot of that craft. The rest of your Squadron will go along to escort the T/D-CGT. Don't lose that ship! It's our only hope of finding these mysterious attackers before they finish us off."

"Yes, sir. We won't fail you."

Both officers saluted and left their WC's office, looking forward to the challenge that lie ahead.

"So how do we choose the lucky guy?" GN Tuba inquired jovially. "According to these tech readouts, the T/D-CGT can carry no missiles or beam weapon. And, it's 12% slower and less maneuverable then a regular Defender. If things get hairy that pilot will have to be on his toes."

BG Flash turned to face his second-in-command. "Actually, I was hoping you'd volunteer for the job. Your experience with the older prototype coupled with your skills in the Defender make you ideal for the job."

GN Tuba slapped his CMDR on the back and laughed. "Ok, you talked me into it! Besides, I'll feel better knowing it's you guarding my six."

A minute blink on the sensor screen jarred GN Tuba from his reverie. "Delta Leader, this is Delta Two - possible contact bearing 187 mark 325."

"Analysis," BG Flash replied, thankful for the reprieve from the hours of boredom. "This our mysterious bogey?"

"It's a weak intermittent contact. Similar pattern to the one the Sovereign saw right before the attack. I'd say this is our guy."

The thrill of imminent contact with the enemy galvanized BG Flash into action. "Ok gentlemen, this is it. Let's go in slow and quiet. We don't want to announce ourselves early and spoil the party. Tuba, you have the lead."

"Roger that, Delta Leader. Two has the lead. Delta Three and Four on my wing."

"Copy Two," responded LtCol Nathan and GN Gyssler in unison.

"Delta Leader this is Delta Two: the contact seems to be in that large nebula. Recommend proceeding with extreme caution. You guys may want to hang back. It could be a trap."

"Understand Delta Two. That nebula will play havoc with our sensors but yours should be fine. Enter the nebula and report your findings, but do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. We'll stand by in case you need assistance."

"Roger that, Delta Leader. Wouldn't want to lose this shiny new fighter on its first trip."

GN Tuba broke off from the diamond formation and throttled back for a cautious approach to the foreboding nebula. The plasma discharge from the close proximity of the nebula's component stars would interfere with the targeting sensors and make combat difficult if not impossible. With this in mind Tuba confidently entered the nebula, his attention focused on the faint signal steadily growing closer on the screen. The myriad of brilliantly colored swirling gases was lost upon him as he continued to study the screen, alert for any sign of a trap. Suddenly the faint signal was joined by another. Tuba began to perspire and his throat became dry, as more signals appeared, each identical to the first. Fifty-two so far and still counting. Then he noticed three larger, more distinct signals and steered towards those. Visibility was severely limited inside the nebula but what he saw next made his blood run cold: Two Mon Calamari Cruisers, the new MC-90's. Easily a match for an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, these had been heavily modified with the new cloaking technology and bristled with more weapons than ever. Even more frightening than these two behemoths was the gargantuan station they orbited. The structure consisted of a single factory at the center and four battle platforms joined by immense tubes. The platforms formed a rough circle around the factory and all were connected to the center by the same tubes, probably used for personnel and material transfer.

"Wow," Tuba exclaimed softly. "That's going to make one big bang when it all goes up."

Some of the multitude of other signals broke off from the main group around the station and began to head out of the nebula. Quickly ducking back into the cover of the roiling gases, he made a count.

"Sixty-four. That's three times as many as attacked before. They must be on their way to finish off the Sovereign this time. We've got to stop them."

Turning his fighter around and gunning the engines, Tuba selected tight-beam transmission and aimed the antenna towards the holding area for the rest of his team.

"Delta Leader, this is Two. You've got 64, repeat 64 cloaked hostiles heading your way."

Due to the nebula's interference, the transmission was garbled on the receiving end. The rest of Delta Squadron heard "....Lead.........Two......You........Repeat.........ed hostile..........."

"Did you guys make that out?" asked LtCol Nathan.

"All I heard was Tuba saying something about hostiles. If we enter the nebula we'll be flying blind. We need to think of something fast," replied GN Gyssler.

As his fighter neared the nebula's edge, Tuba's transmission became clear. It was then that BG Flash had an inspiration.

"Two, this is Leader. Do you still hold the hostiles on your scope?"

"Affirmative, Leader. They'll clear the nebula in approximately two minutes. Right in front of us. Since I'm the only one that can see them we don't stand much of a chance if we engage them directly."

"Understood. Fortunately I don't intend to engage them directly. Four, you still carrying your Mag Pulse torpedoes?"

"Affirmative, sir. I've got six Mag Pulse standing by," replied GN Gyssler. "But how can I get a lock on something I can't see?"

"I think I'm catching on," said GN Tuba, a large grin slowly spreading across his face. "The nebula is composed of vast amounts of ionized gas all swirling about. The plasma discharges result when two gases having opposite polarity meet and then react. Right now the fighters are heading for a relatively calm area. If we alter the charge of some of that gas with a magnetic pulse like the one produced by those torpedoes, and then we'll create a huge plasma discharge. In close proximity to the fighters that should act as a widespread ion cannon burst. It won't be as effective as if we attacked them directly but we can't risk revealing ourselves until we've reported in."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," BG Flash agreed. "Two, select an area in front of the fighters and feed the target coordinates to GN Gyssler."

"Done, Delta Leader. I'm getting out of this cloud before the fireworks start."

"Understood, Two. We'll fire on your signal."

Just as GN Tuba was clearing the nebula cloud, the incoming fighters entered the target zone. "Delta Four, you're clear to fire."

"Roger, Two. Torpedoes away!"

As the torpedoes streaked towards the nebula, LtCol Nathan thought of an interesting question. "Um...Delta Leader? Won't the fighters see the incoming torpedoes and realize it's a trap?"

BG Flash smiled as the first torpedo detonated within the nebula. "No. Since their sensors are probably just as scrambled as ours from all the plasma discharge, they'll think they just stumbled across a bit of turbulence. It won't do any lasting damage, but it might just take some of them out of action."

Each of them considered the great devastating potential of an attack right after torpedoes had done their work. The confusion would work to Delta Squadron's advantage and, guided by the CGT sensor they could probably make a good showing of themselves. They also considered that such an act would tip their hand prematurely and give the Rebels time to evacuate before the Strike Fleet could arrive. Much better to disable a few ships and have it look like a natural occurrence, than to destroy many ships and prove that it wasn't.

As the remaining torpedoes detonated, a large section of the nebula cloud burst into a brilliant blue flash then went dark. The immense volume of gases quickly flowed into the void left by the explosion and small chains of blue lightening erupted everywhere.

"That got some of them, Delta Leader, but most are still headed out. I'm re-entering the nebula for cover. Home on my signal so we're not separated."

The forty-nine craft that emerged never saw the four TIE Defenders stealthily duck into the cloud.

On his sensor display, GN Tuba could see the disabled fighters clearly as their cloaking devices were now disabled. He could also see the departing fighters more clearly now and noticed an irregular shimmering effect about them. "Leader, I'm analyzing the sensor data now. It seems that the sensor glitches in the cloaking devices are caused by a reaction to the nebula itself. They probably don't suspect that it's caused by their choice of environment." Then Tuba noticed an opportunity.

"Delta Leader, one of the departing fighters has reversed course. It appears he's trying to render assistance to his disabled comrades. The station's far enough away to it probably can't pick them up without distress beacons and those won't have power until the ionization wears off."

"Copy that, Two. Continue observation."

"Negative, Leader. I've got an idea," Tuba replied as he steered his craft towards the approaching fighter.

"What are you doing??? Stop at once! This is a direct order! We can't afford to lose your ship!"

"No time to argue, Leader. I'll return in a few minutes. Tuba out."

"I hate when he does that," BG Flash grumbled.

Tuba used short bursts of thrust to maneuver in behind the fighter which he finally got a good look at: It and its counterparts were the new C-Wings they had been briefed on weeks before. Information was sketchy at the time and no one had really gotten a close look at one until now.

"This will make quite a prize," Tuba said to no one in particular.

Tying the Crystal Gravfield Trap sensor into his targeting computer and by moving in directly behind the unsuspecting fighter, he was able to get a solid lock on the C-Wing's engines. Checking the sensor display once more for any other rescue vessels, Tuba took a slow breath, relaxed, and fired his ion cannons directly into the other ship's power plant. The attack caught the target completely by surprise but that didn't matter. The shock of such a precise attack at short range instantly fused the engines themselves and left the ship adrift with no power.

"Now comes the tricky part," said GN Tuba, once again to no one but the void. Using tightly controlled bursts of his maneuvering thrusters; he carefully positioned his ship directly in front of the other. Great surprise registered on the C-Wing pilot's face as he saw a TIE Defender rise into his viewplate. He reached for the ejection handle and at that moment, Tuba acted. Gunning his engines for less than a second he hurled his ship towards the other fighter. Surprise turned to terror as the Rebel pilot froze in terrible understanding of his unavoidable demise. The two craft collided and stuck together, the T/D's shields overloading on impact. The shock snapped the C-Wing's pilot forward, then back in his chair, rendering him unconscious. GN Tuba, despite bracing for impact, faired only slightly better with a severe cut to his head.

Wiping the blood from his eyes, he surveyed the damage reports from his own vessel and the sensor scans of the C-Wing. It had worked! The shields had overloaded, but not before they cushioned the collision just enough to keep from destroying both craft. The other pilot was battered and unconscious and would remain so throughout the upcoming journey.

Feeling the pain of multiple bruises, GN Tuba gently fired the Defender's maneuvering thrusters to align both craft with the waiting members of Delta Squadron and slowly increased thrust until he was within sight of them.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I couldn't, in good conscience, leave the party without bringing the guest of honor out for a night on the town," Tuba joked.

"I'm not sure I want to know, but what kind of hare-brained stunt did you use to pull this one off?" BG Flash inquired. He was shaken by the appearance of Tuba's craft - half of the top stabilizer was gone and the other half was tangled with the C-Wing - but he was greatly relieved to see Tuba once again.

"Leader, can you use your tractor beam to get this Rebel off me? This guy is definitely invading my personal space!"

As BG Flash used his ship's tractor beam to gently separate the two ships, GN Tuba related the tale, much to the astonishment of his comrades. Once the vessels were separated and the C-Wing was safely secured by Flash's tractor beam he spoke.

"Tuba, I should have your head for disobeying a direct order like that. You could have gotten yourself vaped and the prototype TIE right along with you. But you did manage to capture a working C-Wing and it's cloaking device, so I'll forgive you just this once."

"Thanks sir," Tuba grinned. "I couldn't have done it without you. Shall we depart?"

"Yeah, the fleet needs this ship and the data we've collected. The next time we're here it'll be as part of a full strike force!"

"Engage jump engines."

And so the four TIE Defenders and their prisoner vanished into hyperspace.

Fireclaw was recalling his last encounter with the C-Wings and the Capital Ships as he was jolted out of his reverie and into realspace, where a vicious battle was unfolding before his eyes. As he scanned the immediate area, he saw about 30 of those immense Capital Ships he had just left in ruins. Also, he saw that the Sov had called in the Wing IV pilots to start mixin' it up.

"Sov, this is BG Fireclaw, registration B-3-1-I-Sov, requesting permission to engage the enemy."

No response.

"I guess they're a little pre-occupied," Fireclaw said to no one in particular.

That was when he noticed four TIE Defenders sneaking through the Battle towards the Sov's hangar. "Delta Squadron, what the hell are you doing? Your cargo is too precious for you to be here! Get out! I'll relay the co-ordinates of the VSD Prometheus to you, she'll know what to do with that C-Wing of yours." Fireclaw said.

"Roger that, Fireclaw. Thanks for the tip. Delta's 3 and 4 will stay behind and assist." Replied Delta 1, shortly before their fighters disappeared into hyperspace.

Sighing, Fireclaw boosted his engines and charged into the enemy fleet.

"What the hell are those?" inquired Delta 4, referring to the Capital ships.

"Didn't you see a few of those when you found that fighter you were towing?" Fireclaw asked.

"No. They were rebs we saw." Delta 3 put in.

Then it clicked. These aren't rebels at all. Different tactics. Different flying style. Different ships. "Go for the Command Ships hulls. That'll take down the fighters."

Fireclaw was neatly slicing Cap Ships in half when he was buzzed by a Squadron of Unidentified fighters. These had never been seen before. After taking out about a half dozen Cap Ships, he broke off and engaged the UFs (Unidentified Fighters).

"These things are a crapload better than those little C-Wings we've been rackin' up", thought Fireclaw. Then, another Cap Ship went down. Two C-Wings that had been flying past his cockpit destructed, and some debris hit his fighter. At the same instant, a UF came up from behind and opened up on his Missile Boat. When the debris hit, and the lasers got within range, the shields shorted out for a split second and the lasers got through. Fireclaw took a shot in the engine. He was gone for the rest of this furball. Then his Control Console blew, and shards of metal penetrated his flight suit and into his skin.

"Thank Gawd for Life Support", Fireclaw thought. His last vision before losing consciousness was that of the Aurora Prime Home Guard dropping out of hyperspace from the left and three fighter squadrons dropping in from the right. On the brink of unconsciousness, the facts clicked.

"They're..they're..they're..not of our galaxy..They're...Protoss!"

Fireclaw moaned, then blacked out.

"This is Admiral Kramer of the SSSD Sovereign ordering all available ships to hyperspace to Hela in the Phare System. We have taken several casualties and require assistance. Repeat- Please---"

Dharmy concentration was broken by the sudden distress call. "Jeez, right when things were starting to get interesting... ah well, we're almost done here any- Whoa!" His TIE Defender was shaken out of control by the wake of Fireclaw's nearby Missile Boat heading into hyperspace. "Argh, that kid with his big engines... always has to make his grand exit..." he muttered to himself...

"Stanzer, better gather up your boys and follow him... we'll finish up here."

"We'll watch out for him, don't you worry..." assured BG Stanzer. With that, Lambda Squadron jumped to hyperspace on Fireclaw's tail.

"Now then, back to business." Dharmy collected his flight and pressed the attack on the battle cruisers.

"Could we please hurry things up? We're wanted elsewhere!" requested LG Wolly, wanting to obey the Admiral but at the same time not wanting to let these rebels get away. Not long after, his demands were satisfied. "Nice job, everyone! Now let's head to Hela and hope we didn't miss all the fun! Tad, thanks for your help, and we'll see you again soon!"

The starfield was filled with the streaks of ships entering hyperspace. En route, Dharmy wondered if his egg would still be soft-boiled by the time he got back. "I need to get my fighter repainted..." he thought.

Upon exiting hyperspace, Dharmy frantically tried to get a hold of the situation. The Aurora Home Guard was approaching from behind a large fleet of the gargantuan ships. Swarming around the large ships were dozens of small fighter craft, which were unlike anything he had ever seen before. Surrounding those ships were more C-Wings. Lambda Squadron was quickly closing with the enemy ships. "Suggested plan of attack, Wolly?" Dharmy requested.

"Let's catch up with Lambda there, but stay alert... go for the capital ships, but watch the swarming fighters." replied LG Wolly.

"Epsilon Squadron commencing attack, good hunting, all!" Tad's familiar voice came on the comm.

Dharmy followed close behind Wolly. When he got to ten clicks from the enemy, he heard a faint radio blip... blip... blip... "Do you hear that?"

"The radio? Sounds like a repeating distress beacon... it's an Imperial frequency... more specifically... oh no! It's Fireclaw! Fireclaw! Are you receiving?" Wolly was worried, a very rare condition for the officer.

No answer.

"He might be still in there... protect that fighter! An Escort Shuttle should be on its way to get him out of here."

Lambda Squadron had already engaged the enemy... as soon as one of the capital ships was destroyed, sure enough, the fighters it carried self-destructed, but the small fighters relentlessly swarmed around the attackers. They were very small and much more agile than the TIE Defender.

"All fighters back off... those small fighters are merciless, but they won't chase you unless you get close... Take down anything that gets close to you, but keep your distance," warned BG Stanzer, "as for us, we're heading back for rearming... we'll be back."

"Grrr.... it's not going to be easy... you need a different kind of warhead like fragmentation torpedoes, designed to explode in a wide burst when they get in range of enemy fighters, instead of on contact... that should help." instructed Dharmy.

"Thanks for the tip... we'll be back soon." Lambda Squadron disappeared into hyperspace to be rearmed.

Now for the hard part, Dharmy thought. How do we keep those ships from advancing into our space if we can't get close to them?

"No problem, ESC Medical Corps. Beta Squadron, protect Fireclaw's fighter and the ESC." Wolly responded.

"Roger that!" BG Dharmy spoke through the comm.

"Holy sh-!" BG Lafeber was cut off by the massive rumbling of a starship, easily the size of the Sovereign, dropping out of hyperspace, in the same design as the other alien craft.

"What the-!?!?!?" AD Kramer spoke over the radio.

And, what occurred next was possibly the most unforgettable moment of any of the pilots' careers. The gargantuan vessel turned its massive hulk towards the Sovereign, apparently attempting to ram her.

Fireclaw, somewhat groggy, awoke from his short period of unconsciousness, and was startled to find the moon-sized vessel in his midst. "What the hell?!?!?!?!?"

"Fireclaw, this is Wolly! Get onto that Escort Shuttle NOW!" Wolly screamed over the radio communications.

"Negative, Wolly." Fireclaw disobeyed. "Escort Shuttle Medical Corps, repair my engines. NOW!"

"Already done, sir." The shuttle reported.

"Good. Now, get ready to pick my escape pod up."

"FIRECLAW WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" AD Kramer yelled.

Ficeclaw, ignoring the repeated screams, powered up his engines, unleashed every warhead in his Missile Boat, diverted all power to his engines, engaged SLAM overdrive boosters, and, just before releasing the eject lever, screamed:

"YOU'VE HAUNTED ME LONG ENOUGH! WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He was talking to the unidentified craft.

The next morning Fireclaw awoke in the infirmary with one hell of a hangover. After following strict orders from the attending nurse, Claw soon slipped into unconsciousness...Not noticing the Legion of Combat and CMDR's star next to his pillow.

The next time he woke up, he did notice them.

The doors to Pilot Country opened, and Fireclaw stepped into a party. He could smell the drinks and hear laughter mixed with rage mixed with arrogance. He knew that these men, though professionals, were not pleased with the beating their ship had taken. Fireclaw strolled over to the bar for a drink. He tapped his IWATS graduation ring on the bar to get the bartenders attention.

"Guiness, please." The bartender nodded, and, after a few seconds, slid a pint of guiness across the bar to Fireclaw. After a sip, Fireclaw turned to see a grinning Wolly standing next to him.

"Good job, Claw!" Wolly congratulated. "I'm surprised you got that promo, especially since you disobeyed my direct orders!" Wolly added, with a hint of warning in his voice.

"I DIDN'T disobey your orders, so much as OBEYED the orders of a higher ranking officer." Fireclaw countered.

"True." Wolly conceeded, sipping his whiskey.

"Ah! You got one too?" Interrupted the newly minted CMDR Dharmy.

"Hehe…must be an epidemic!" Fireclaw commented.

As the door opened in the back of the room, the two of them noticed how quickly the conversation stopped and was replaced by abrupt whispers. They turned to see Commodore Kramer entering Pilots Country.

"Gentlemen, you did an excellent job defending the Sovereign, and I commend you all. However, I must inform you that the battle is not over. We have tracked more of these unidentified vessels in the Minos Cluster, near the RS border. We have been assigned, along with the M/FRG Phoenix, to scout the area out. Good luck, and fight on."

"Unidentified? I already said who they were out there!" Fireclaw commented to Wolly, beginning to chase after Kramer.

Wolly stopped him. "No you didn't. You didn't say anything out there..."

And this ends Chapter 1 of the Wing-I Run-On Story. Chapter 2 will soon follow.

The Empire is in turmoil, the Rebel legions are advancing, and law and order are lost. But one sentinel stands against the darkness of the Rebel's corrupt regime, the Emperor's Hammer Strike Fleet. Of the wings and squadrons of the mighty Avenger of the Empire, one stands out among the rest as the elite, the best, a guardian of Law and Order. Wing X on the ISD Challenge

We are the elite. Like the elements that we are named for Typhoon, Tempest, Tornado, Cyclone, Thunder and Inferno, we will raze the Rebel strongholds and burn their fleets from the stars, leaving only the purity of the Empire.

Even now, Wing X is fast becoming distinguished as the elite of the Emperor's Hammer Strike Fleet. The old is slowly being replaced by the new, two of our squadrons threaten to topple the old guard of Beta and Praetorian, soon to become the NEW elite. Join Wing X, and you will serve with the finest officers in the fleet. In Wing X, you will be among the finest pilots that the fleet has to offer. Wing X pilots like Rea, Steele, Kessler, Terry, Fink and Yacko all exemplify the spirit and quality of the EH strike fleet and the Challenge in particular. Come to Wing X, and you will find opportunities for advancement will be coming very quickly. If you distinguish yourself in combat, you may find yourself a Flight Leader, Squadron Commander, or even Wing Commander of our fine wing. The opportunities are endless.

In the middle of the dark night the only thing visible was the blinking green light on the control panel...the holonet panel...who could call at this time of night?

Thrawn got up out of his leather chair...the places he usually slept...well when he was working. Walking over to the console he tripped over some pink bunny slippers...Forgot I left those there. Proceeding to hit the button, Thrawn was taken aback by the message that appeared.

Tarkin had sent many of these messages before, but there was something strange about this one. It almost seemed like the world was ending, but why did it feel this way?

Thrawn pulled on his tunic, and hit the button to his secret turbolift, pulling the lever for the roof, Thrawn sat down on the chair he had built inside...what could Tarkin want?

Suddenly the door opened, Tarkin was sitting on the edge of the roof in a trenchcoat with a haggard expression on his face.

"Thrawn I'm glad you got here quickly."

"What is it Tarkin?", Thrawn asked tentavely.

"It's been a long year Thrawn, and a long year before that."

"It's finnaly happening isn't it?" dreadfully Thrawn had to ask.

"Yes, I'm finnaly retiring, after all these battles we've won, and the friendships we've made...and the friends we've lost.

"There's no better time to do it my friend, my time has come." Tarkin continued.

"I'm guessing there is no turning back, this is final isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so my friend, I'm pursuing my career as an artist, there's a lot of things I left unfinished when I joined up."

"Best of luck sir, I'll miss you...I just hope I can fill your shoes."

"I'm sure you can, and thanks my friend for all the help you've given, I don't think the Legion would be where it is without yours and the rest of the beggining General Staff's help."

"Have a good night's rest sir."

"Thanks."

With that Thrawn left for his office/quarters, time to get a real sleep in a bed.

* * *

Morning had come at last, Thrawn couldn't get any sleep due to the conversation he had with Tarkin the last night. Then he saw he had another message...Great the holonet is turning into the dreadfulnet.

Thrawn clicked it on, the message suspended above him:

GREAT the Holonet is the bearer of bad news, thought Thrawn sarcasticaly. Thrawn then got an idea into his head, and sat down at the Holonet and started writing, all the whil grinning maniacly.

Meanwhile, Tarkin was busing himself getting all of his last minute projects done, then he himself noticed a message on the holonet:

Tarkin grimaced, Thrawn has been writing my mother again, that's just like him, getting my mother against me, and he had the nerve to suggest to my mother to come visit me. But on the other hand, I guess it won't be so bad, but mum will be going around saying 'You call yourself a leader, get this pigsty cleaned up this instant!' and then she'll see my pink bunny slippers under my desk, then it'll be ALL over. But no time to worry about that now, I got packing to do.

* * *

"You wanted to see me sir?" Asked Brigadier General Wildcat meekly.

"Why yes, Wildcat, I have something to discuss with you." Thrawn replied.

"What is it sir?"

"With Prefect Tarkin's resignation, I will be taking over as Prefect and that leaves the spot of Commander, Development open, I've decided to appoint you."

"Why me sir, there has to be more qualified people out there?"

"Because Wildcat, you know the Development office, you are the most experienced General Staff member, you ARE the most qualified person out there."

"But what about Qiliang, he's a LOT more talented than me?"

"Qiliang is retiring THAT is why I can't appoint him, he was my first choice until I found out."

"Oh." Wildcat shrank.

"So what about it General are you going to accept the post or not?"

"Yes, Sir I will."

"Good, dismissed."

Once Wildcat left the office, General of the Legion Thrawn slumped in his chair, one less obstacle out of my way.

* * *

Just lovely the light is flashing again, wonder what the bad news is this time? Thrawn toggled the switch:

Thrawn got to packing up his office so he can move onto the Retribution, part of the responsibility of being Prefect, trying to hold the old baby together, instead of looking over the Declaration and those mischevious Space Troopers.

Meanwhile Qiliang and Tarkin were talking in Tarkin's office,

"So we're both leaving the old bandwagon, huh?" Qiliang asked.

"Yup, CT and PRF leaving, one month after each other, this is going to be a little rough on the Legion."

"The Fist has seen worse, plus Thrawn can handle it, it's only another roster shakeup."

"You're right, you know the General Staff has been a life for me since day one of joining the Legion, while Thrawn he worked his way up since day one." Tarkin recalled.

"Yeah, Thrawn is one dedicated person.

I have to go, I'll see you at the ceremony tommorow."

"Ok, Qiliang, have a nice day."

"You too sir."

* * *

Second Lieutenant Imp22 groaned as he suffered the blinking light syndrome. "Does EVERYONE have to experience Thrawn's nightmare?", asked Imp22 to Captain Linuk Ware, his Company Commander.

"I'm guessing the answer is yes, I'm still wondering when I'll get struck with it." Replied the Captain.

Imp22 hit the switch:

Captain Kartena

Captain Ware watched as Imp22's mouth dropped, he obviously wasn't expecting good news to come from that message, probably just a message announcing someone elses retirement.

"I can't believe it!", shouted Imp, "I'm finally worth something in this Legion!"

"Captain, calm down, it's only a promotion." said Ware dryly.

"Only a promotion, ONLY a promotion, why I'm now in command of the soon to be Prefect Thrawn's personal army! Now tell me that is ONLY a promotion, I'll be looked upon with respect from EVERYONE!"

"Until you do something stupid, in which everyone will A)Shoot You B)Exile You or C)Demote you back to a toddler."

"We'll see about that, you're just jealous."

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"Am not"

"Are so!"

And on and on they continued...

* * *

As Thrawn toured the decks of the Platform Declaration, he thought back on all the memories he had experienced here. The day it was first commissioned and Tarkin gave him command of it, the day he got promoted to General of the Legion, the day Code Yellow was issued and well the day he had to leave, today. Why it had to happen he didn't know, maybe because all good things have to end, such as lollypops, or playing Candyland late at night, or Resident Evil and then getting so freaked out over playing Candyland you really didn't care about all those big scary monsters jumping out at you. Well maybe that was just him, but you get the drift. But now he has to move to the Retribution touring the galaxy instead of staying in one place, afraid of being lost in hyperspace, or while he was gone Carrida being taken over, it wasn't that protected anyway, Carida was destroyed by some wannabe-Jedi brat. Now he has to try to get more ships to protect the Legion, perhaps get back the Lancer Class Frigates we had back in the day, now that would be something...

* * *

Captain Tuojas was jolted awake by a buzz, Great I got struck by the almighty green blinky light thingy.

At the same time Captain Kazarian and Linuk Ware had the same experience, all with the same message:

The Captains showed up all in the Officer's lounge.

Tuojas broke the ice, "So who do you think will be the next Battalion Commander?"

"Probably you or Kazarian, because I don't want the position, I'm happy where I'm at." Answered Linuk.

"I guarantee you'll get it, if you don't become Commander, Communications Tuojas, but of course everyone knows you'll get it."

"Thanks for your confidence guys, now I'm off to bed, tommorow is going to be a big day with Tarkin's resignation ceremony and all."

"Sithspit! It is going to be tommorow isn't it!" Cried Linuk

"Man I totally forgot, thanks Tuojas." said Karzarian sheepishly.

"No problem, I don't know what you guys would do without me."

* * *

It must be a ritual for Commanding Officers to walk the decks one last time before leaving because that is exactly what I'm doing. Tarkin recalled. Sheesh, two years on General Staff, that's how long I've been in the Legion, TWO years, two very LONG years. I don't know how I survived. I don't know how Thrawn survived being in here since day one and just now becoming Prefect, I'm just getting to old for this. Maybe my mom is right though, maybe I'm not the type to have kids running around, but who says I'll do that all I said is that I'm leaving the Legion to pursue my career. Thrawn was a military man before he joined up with the Legion on the planet Lantare, he is used to it, I wonder what Thrawn wanted to be for a real career, I remember him saying something about how he admired the medics, maybe that is his calling, maybe that is what he's going to do when he finally retires, or maybe he'll just go back to being a military man on another planet or be a merc or bounty hunter. Thrawn really is a mystery. For me though I have to get some rest.

* * *

"Last, a reminder to all personnel Prefect Tarkin's resignation ceremony to be held at 09:00 hours this morning in the courtyard outside the main assembly hall."

Thrawn shut off the videoscreen, standing in his full dress uniform, ceremonial sword, slug thrower, beret and all. Today is the day, the day the Prefectorial Guard changes once again. The day where Thrawn becomes Prefect after working his life to better the Legion he is rewarded for it, but at the same time, saddened by the loss of a friend and colleague.

With these thoughts, Thrawn left for the ceremony, the last act he would do as a General, the last act he would do without the burden of what he would do would change the lives of everyones.

Tarkin walked up beside Thrawn, stunning in his uniform. "My friend, I notice your not wearing your Shadow Knight Insignia, is there something I should know about?"

"The Shadow Warriors and Dark Knights were formed to protect the Prefect, than were merged to provide a united protection force for the Prefect, now that I will be Prefect, I can no longer protect myself can I?"

"My friend, just because you are no longer the Shadow General does not mean you cannot wear the insignia, after all you formed them, you ARE them."

"Thank you sir, are you ready?"

"As ready as I ever will be."

With those words, the two Shadow Knight Ceremonial Guards opened the doors to the stage, to a saluting Legion of loyal troopers, to the Fist and the Hammer. Thrawn broke off to the right in his designated chair, while Tarkin advanced to his podium.

"As you were."

With that one command, the whole Legion sat down, intensly anticipating the words the Prefect would utter next.

"Fellow Troopers, and Officers, the day has come that the Prefectorial Guard will change. Today is the beginning of a new dawn, where the Legion will climb, maybe slowly maybe quickly, but it will be under the leadership of a new Prefect, the once General of the Legion Thrawn the NOW Field Marshal Thrawn as Prefect of the Hammer's Fist Elite Stormtrooper Legion. Prefect would you like to take the stage?"

"Yes Field Marshal, I would." Stated Thrawn

Thrawn strode up to the podium while Tarkin took his seat.

"Comrades at Arms, Tarkin is right, today is a new dawn, a Golden Dawn, but some things are higher than that, some people deserve more than just a Dawn, some deserve a cross, some deserve recognition from their peers such as Field Marshal Tarkin. Field Marshal, stand up."

Tarkin stood up, while Thrawn reached under the podium.

"For outstanding service and regeneration of a whole Legion, proving leadership skill and pure bravery, with the powers invested in me as Prefect of the Hammer's Fist Stormtrooper Legion, I hereby award Field Marshal Tarkin the Legionnaire's Cross."

Thrawn pinned the ribbon on Tarkin's chest since he had acheived the Medal of Honor, Thrawn than proceeded to salute and held the salute even after Tarkin returned it, when he finally ended the salute, Thrawn whispered "Congratulations sir, you've earned it."

"Thank you Thrawn, my first Hammer's Fist award."

Thrawn strode back to the podium.

"While the award means a lot, nothing can mean more than friendship and the hardships Tarkin went through to acheive his goals, he had to give up his career to pursue his dream, for this he deserves even more, a spot on the newly created Prefect's Advisory Council. This way, Tarkin, you can continue your dream, service to the Empire."

With this bit of news, cheers erupted from the audience.

"I don't think we could express our gratitude enough for leading us through a change, a new dawn. But not all of us know your story, could you enlighten us?"

"Certainly, Prefect."

Once again the two men swapped positions.

"I started out in the Legion as a freelance mission creater and accepted the position of Commander, Operations. Through that time I made a couple of missions. I lived through the what seemed like thousands of Prefectorial Guard Changes. Finally it had came time where the position of Commander, Development opened, I took the position and then the Prefect retired, Palidin who had changed the Fist for the better by making new positions and ranks. Then I became Prefect by default. From there I set my goals and acheived them, getting everyone active. But the main question is, what is your history Field Marshal Thrawn?"

"You will hear my history when I retire, till then it's my little secret."

"Fair enough."

"Would you like to take the podium back Thrawn?"

"I certainly would."

For the final time the two switched.

"Now an announcement, Brigadier General Wildcat step forward, General you are now promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General and acheive the privelages of Commander, Development, congratutlations Lieutenant General."

Thrawn pinned the rank and position badge on Wildcat.

"Now I would like to issue the last tribute to the retired Prefect. Legion TEN-HUT!

Color Guard Commence Fire!"

The Color Guard started the 20 gun salute.

"Legion Salute!"

The Legion snapped a perfect salute to the retired Field Marshal.

The Color Guard finished.

"Legion AT EASE!"

"I would like to announce the reception at 23:00 hours tonight, everyone is welcome to attend.

DISMISSED!"

"Well Tarkin I guess it's over, you're now a cilvilian."

"Yeah a civilian who has to pick up his mother."

"Let me go with you, I'd like to meet the mother of the greatest man in the universe."

"Let's go then."

* * *

That night in the Carrida Cantina, designed to hold the whole Legion was alive with activity, gifts were piled all over the place, Green Stuff was being poured 'on the house'.

Aglen was getting emotional kissing both the ex-Prefect and current Prefect. He was obviously drunk, after about twenty minutes he disappeared into the Platoon Commander part of the Cantina, the kitchen, defianitley to get more plastered.

Meanwhile, Thrawn and Tarkin were sitting around drinking, but both had a high alcohol tolerance level so neither ever got drunk. When Thrawn noticed some of the gifts Tarkin was receiving were stolen from his armory.

"Hey who's been stealing my stuff?!?!?" Thrawn yelled.

But no one payed attention.

"Just forget about it Thrawn, you have triplicates of this stuff anyway."

"I guess your right."

All of sudden Aglen runs out of the kitchen yelling, "The goblins are coming to get me!, THE GOBLINS ARE COMING TO GET ME!!!"

"Military Police, cart him off for public disordinance." someone ordered.

"Let him be," Thrawn said, "He just got caught up in the occassion didn't you Aglen"

"Yes I did"

"Now let's just enjoy the night."

And that they did.

TO: Infiltrator Wing Crew

CC: Command Staff

SUBJECT: IW-Commanders Dossier 17.08.1998 - 1417 IDT

______________________________________________________________________

Commanders Briefing

New Officers Introduction

Minos Operations- Battle for Lyccos II

IW-SpecForces Operational

MC-60 Warhammer Commissioned

The Infiltrator Wing War Games

The New General Staff Meetings

The Insider - IW Newsletter Report

Fleet Recruition Contest

IW Training Academy Report

Fleet Logistics

Recruition Contest

______________________________________________________________________

Squadron Commanders... You all now must play an important part in this fleet to ensure our victory. Your squadrons must be combat ready and your pilots must be ready to win. Myself and my executive officer will personally oversee the development of each squadron into an effective combat unit. You will all become the most active pilots in the Emperor's Hammer Navy and you will have you chance to prove it in a few very short weeks.

Now, you must prep your squadrons. Get them out of the mess hall and entertainment lounges. The Infiltrator Wing is no longer standing by. We are preparing for WAR! So, I ask of you that you report to your Wing Commanders of your current situation. Have your pilots check in; they have 1-2 weeks or they are not combat efficient and will be sent to the training academy. Make sure each member can play one or more of the LucasArt games and that they are adept in their given ship! Maintenance and repair crews are already upgrading our equipment and giving each fighter a new coat of paint.

All battle preparations will be completed by 27.06.1998 or your squadron will not be a part of the battle. BE SURE THIS DOSSIER REACHES YOUR MEN!

______________________________________________________________________

There has recently been several line officer promotions throughout the fleet as we strengthen our command for the upcoming war. I wish to personally congratulate and welcome those new officers. The Infiltrator Wing only accepts the best, and you have proven yourself to your superiors, and for that, you have directed the Infiltrator Wing one step closer to victory. I wish you luck in your coming battles.

We have just received orders from the Grand Admiral himself that the Infiltrator Wing will be the spearhead into Lyccos. With our Alphabet fighters and rigorous training we should be able to sneak into the Lyccos System undetected and garrison the planet with our Spec-Force Troops. We have received reports from Intelligence that the Rebels are still in chaos from their defeat at Dar'Telis and will pose no threat to our operations. I suspect our biggest concern will be Lyccos Homeworld Fighters... we have little information on this topic at this time however.

Executive Officer Crimedog and Intelligence Officer BlackHawk are researching the planet of Lyccos II and will report to the fleet of their findings. I will be ordering Recon patrols into the Lyccos System once we have received general information on the space situation.

To assist us in this massive operation will be the combat ready fighters of the Aggressor Wing. Their border skirmishes in the Minos Cluster has made them efficient fighters and with the combined efforts of the Infiltrator Wing Navy and Aggressor Wing, nothing shall stand in our way.

Force General Cougar (coug77@hotmail.com), Commander of the IW-SpecForces, has reported to the command staff of the Infiltrator Wing that the SpecForce Platoons have been organized and are awaiting fresh troops. The Infiltrator Wing SpecForces have been designated to use Jedi Knight and Quake II as operating platforms and has already established a homepage where you can received more instruction at: http://home.earthlink.net/~gmcougar/specs/

The IW-SpecForces will play a key role in the Battle for Lyccos II as they will secure a garrison and ensure complete security of the planet until relieved.

While the SpecForces are being developed and trained, new recruits are encouraged to apply early in hopes of obtaining a command and high rank! (you may not use your same IW e-mail address)

Ares Squadron, the Elite of the Infiltrator Wing under the command of Lt. General Jester, has been restationed onto the MC-60 Warhammer. This two squadron ship will house the combat ready Ares Squadron and training Hornet Squadron. The commodore of this ship will be Operation Officer, Colonel General Sarani. I hope this will provide for some excellent competition to earn a spot in Ares through out the fleet.

Also, Lt. General Jester reports that the competition between Ares and the infamous Tau squadron is about to begin. This battle over the best squadron of the entire Emperor's Hammer shall be historic. I wish Ares squadron the best of luck with there mission.

Executive Officer Crimedog has initiated the newest fleet competition for the Infiltrator Wing, entitled "War Games". This massive competition includes every aspect of talents and will surely test each pilot to their max. The location for this competition is: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/3319/War_Games.htm

Remember, all those who participate and are victorious shall be rewarded for their efforts.

I will be instituting a new style of meetings for the next IW General Staff Meeting which is on Sunday at 7pm Pacific on #The_Infiltrator_Wing. The old style format was boring and non-informative, thus the new style will be of a more RPG/SIM type format. Each officer will play his/her respective part to give the meeting an authentic feel to it.

A high attendance is required for this meeting to ensure that is will be fun. Squadron Commanders are hereby required to send out a meeting notice reminder as well as a link to mIRC (http://www.geocities.com/SiliconValley/Park/6000/get.html) to their squadrons. You will be required to CC your Wing Commander to prove you followed orders. I am considering awarding the Infiltrator Honor Squadron Citation to the squadron with the highest attendance.

Reminder that submissions for the IW Newsletter are due June 21st. I want a big emphasis on fiction this time! If you need ideas... the run-on story on the IW Message Board (http://narsissi.tky.hut.fi:81/iw/index.phtml?read+10) is still going on and will be posted into the IW NL (SO GET IT FINISHED!) Also, you may use the information about the Minos Operations to create a prologue run-on.

Remember: Submissions are due JUNE 21ST to emperors@silcon.com

Any extensions needed will have to be requested from emperors@silcon.com

______________________________________________________________________

The Training Academy reports it will be open on time to accept new recruits into the Boot Camp. This will ensure our squadrons are provided with the most active and trained pilots in the Empire!

Also, The Pilot Academy for veteran IW pilots will be opening a few weeks thereafter for those who wish to gain further training.

In note of the IW's birthday being July 19th, the Infiltrator Wing has not reached the goals set by ex-IW-COM Pappy Renegade stating the IW WILL have 120-150 members by it's third birthday. Therefore, the IW-COM is announcing the largest recruition spree ever known to the Emperor's Hammer.

Recruition Goals: 120-150

Final Deadline: July 18th (6 weeks)

Evaluation: 5-10 recruits a week

Rewards: EXTREAME!

This contest is broken down by your position within the Infiltrator Wing:

If an FM or FL can get the names and email addresses of 6+ NEW recruits, they will be rewarded with their own squadron and possibly a promotion along with their MoI's.

DIRECTIONS: Keep a list of the names and addresses on a file until you reach 6+ - REMEMBER TO HAVE THEIR PILOT FILES OR THEY DONT COUNT!!!!-. Then turn this list and pilot files to the Flight Officer (jammin@jounce.net), Executive Officer (Crimedog79@hotmail.com), and IW-COM (emperors@silcon.com). The Flight Officer will then test the names, and the IWCOM and IWXO will contact you on how you want you NEW squadron organized :)

If a Squadron Commander can get 10-15 NEW recruits they will receive their own Wing and promotion! Follow the directions for the FM-FL on how to turn in the pilots.

If a Commodore and Wing Commander's combined efforts can recruit 20-25 people, the COM gets to command the VERY FIRST Infiltrator Wing Battlegroup! The WC will then can be the BG XO or COM the ship if the COM chooses so.

GUIDELINES FOR COM-WC: You will direct all new recruits to the IW recruition form on the IW homepage as normal. However, keep a list of those you recruited (and make sure the FO places them on the IW roster). If by the deadline you reach your goals, you will make IW history.

If you recruit, you get to keep your job. Process all recruits through the IW page and keep a list. The IW-COM decides your rewards.

These deadlines are provided to keep each member actively recruiting until the Final deadline. If a member achieve their goal before a given deadline, they move up to the next position (i.e. If a FM or FL makes their goals by the first deadline, they then complete the Squadron commander goals in hopes to make WC...) FM-CMDRS: DO NOT TURN IN YOUR RECRUITS UNTIL YOU REACH YOUR GOALS!

FM-FL Deadlines:

1. June 20th

2. July 4th

3. July 18th

Squadron CMDR Deadlines:

1. June 27th

2. July 18th

COM and WC Deadlines:

Final Deadline or sooner

Command Staff Deadlines:

Final Deadline or sooner

http://members.aol.com/Clanofgunn/Rec-Man/main.htm

______________________________________________________________________

War Marshal von Reinthaler

Infiltrator Wing Commanding Officer

IW-COM/WM von Reinthaler/MC-90 Bismarck/IW/EH

{IWATS-IIC/3} [NDM] [LoMx2] [MoDx4] [VC] [MoI-dc]

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

Dissapointed

Wrote by General Vader.

August 21 1997, somewhere in Tatooine's moon

'Incoming message' 'Incoming message' 'Incoming message' was blinking on Vader's Holopad. Maria Ines glanced at the little machine….

"Dear!"- she shouted – "You've got a message.. and seems really important!"

"Welcome to the Emperor's Hammer. You have been placed aboard Isd Challenge. Your are in Typhoon Squadron contact your commander for……..". A new life was about to begin for General Vader.

When he got into the Typhoon barracks he felt dissapointed. Nobody therre… just a little letter from his Commander saying welcome. Nothing else. No life there. Vader took a long view at the barracks… 3 of the beds were occupied. Three of the lockers had a name written on it… Rea, R2-D2, Hobbes…

"I should know them…"- Vader thought.

So he went onto his Cmdr Office. It was empty also.

So the days went on… some of the names were erased from the Lockers… some of the pilots didn't showed up… and Vader's life was getting really sad and boring.

Getting up soon, flying some tie, drinking some beer at the cantina, reading in his bed. Typhoon changed 3 times of Cmdr. No one showed to be good enough for the Spot. After some boring time at typhoon Vader was promoted to Fl of Flight three… but nothing could fill that empty space in his soul… he was dissapointed…

Then Ig-88 was named Cmdr of Typhoon squadron and things seemed to start to work. Finally someone was taking care of the Squadron. So Typhoon started to fly missions. And everything seemed fine. But suddenly somethings started to happend. Ig-88 was behaving in a strange way, he was getting upset with his pilots for nothing. And then… a few days after people in typhoon started to feel that way…

"Watch your 6 typhoon 2-3!"- said Vader

"!Get him off my tail!!!!"- was heard on the earphones of everyone…

"I'm coming just hold on!" – "Typhoon 2 and 3 Cover me! I'm going after 2-3!" – "Hobbes! I'm on your way! Hold on!!!- Hobbes, typhoon 2-3 was in big troubles… 2 A-Wings were chasing him, and two x-wings were around him in a defensive circle… a circle of death…

"Status report" – Sounded on the earphones… it was Ig-88

"Hobbes in deep troubles!!! He's not going to make it!" – shouted R2-D2 –

"Leave him. I have orders to get into hyperSpace. Typhoon Squadron hyper Inmediatly!"

"We cannot leave Hobbes…." – but it had not got any sense… Ig-88's defender desapeared into hyperspace…

"God Damned!!!!… Ig-88 is leaving us! He surely is going to get face to face against the High Court of the Inquisitors!- Said Gn Rea

"All right squadron … we've got to make it in our own… Ig-88 has left us here."- said Vader

"Come on!!!!!! My shield are at 30% i'm not going to hold for much more…!!!!"- shouted Hobbes.

Hobbes was flying real good. He was sourrounded by 4 fighters, and he still alive on his Missile boat.

Vader switched to Advanced concussion missiles and targeted one of the a-wings…

"Each one engage an enemy!" – shouted Rea.

The whole squadron was after the 4 fighters, and… i a few seconds the air was filled of laser bolts and missiles. It was loaded of death.

"Break to left! Break to left!" – "I can't … i can't" – "Come on! …" – "Ahhhhh!"

…………………………… static………………………

"Hobbes… are you there……?" – "Yes ..shrtereshippetl.f … i have no shie.. rtpfgrtfgdstrt …."

"Hobbes is with no shield and damaged! Switch to lasers and finish off that X-wing!" – Said Manticore (Typhoon 1-3).

The poor guy on the X-Wing didn't knew what happened to him. 4 Ships… 16 Laser bolts hitting him at the same time… in two seconds there were nothing more than just crap of rebel ships….

"Status report… Hobbes"- said Vader

"I'm fine… i could repair my radio and hyperdrive… lets head home" – said Hobbes

"Yes!!!!!" – Rea, R2-D2, Manticore and Vader were all shouting… really haapy. Hobbes was saved…

"I think we all deserve some drinks at the bar…"- "I'll pay…a round for everyone on my count!"- answered quickly Hobbes.

"Hobbes…." – said Rea… - "Congratulations… you have showed exceptional flying out there…."

"Let's head home…" – said Vader

The five ships went into hyperspace at the same time… everything was finished… but into vader's soul… something strange was happening… he was dissapointed again… But somebody would have to pay for that…

And he was sure that Ig-88 was going to pay for it….

Gn Vader

Vision to the Dark Side

NOV/Maverick (SITH)/House Kirleta of CSK

CMDR/LG Maverick/Typhoon 1-1/Wing X/ISD Challenge

Maverick sat at his desk, and sighed when he saw the paper work which his Wing Commander wanted completed by eleven hundred hours. He flicked through it briefly, then

put it in an imaginary 'do later' pile. Maverick stood up and walked slowly over to the office

window. A few Emperor's Hammer trainee's flying Interceptors were on manouvers. The stars were as numerous as ever, filling Maverick's eyes, his mind. There was no escape from the stars. No where to hide. Sometimes Maverick wished he would see something different than the same sparkling display when he gazed at the universe. Maverick wanted to feel the universe, to taste its very essence. Strange thoughts began racing through Maverick's mind. Is there more to the universe than what my eyes are telling me? Is it possible to feel the universe? Is it possible to hear and understand the universe? Can I control the universe?

Maverick shook his head. Enough of this, I have work to do. He sat back down at his desk, and reached over to the mountain of paper work.

Maverick paused. Give yourself to what? Was that a voice he had just heard, or a figment of his wild imagination? Even he had to admit he was imagining peculiar things lately. Was he going insane? Maverick eagerly scanned the objects scattered on his desk for something to take his mind off the situation. His eyes seemed to be searching at their own will. Searching desperatly for something that wasn't their. Abruptly they stopped, fixed on a dark, book shaped object. It was the first time Maverick had layed eyes upon it. Suddenly he gripped his head in pain. And fear. He let out a slight moan of agony. What was happening? As quick as it had hit, the pain left. Maverick opened his eyes. The book was now directly infront of him. How had it repositioned itself?

The book was incrediably dusty. Gently, Maverick brushed away the thick layer of dust. On the cover was written 'The Dark Side Compendium'. Pure hate flowed through his viens. He hated this book for the pain it had just caused him. Yet it was stronger hate than he had ever felt before. A part of him wanted to take the book and destroy it.

But curiousity overwhelmed Maverick. His hands wanted to open the book. A distant part of his mind wanted to open the book, to read all it contained. The book began to open. Slowly, the front cover turned over to reveal the index. Maverick new that he was opening it. Not with his hands, but with his mind. With the force. He began to read of Palpatine, and Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith. The three orders, Sith, Krath, and Obliesk. The many thousands of battles between the Light Jedi and the Dark Jedi and of the fear, pain, suffering, and hate. The hate that caused these great Jedi wars enclosed Mavericks mind. It tormented his mind, daring him to hate back. Maverick wanted to destroy this hate, let out all his his anger and fury. The images of the Dark Jedi flashed through his precious sanity, pushing it ever closer to insanity. Images of death and destruction. The death of Palpatine and Vader. The death of thousands of Dark Jedi during the Jedi extermination hunts. Vaders head, covered by its emotionless and cold helmet emerged, beckoned Maverick with an unseen force.

Give yourself to the dark side. The Sith is your destiny.

That voice! It was the voice of the Dark Lord, Darth Vader. The hate for Vader swelled rapidly in Maverick. He wanted to reach out and strike Vader down with all his wrath. He wanted to end this misery, yet another part wanted to be with Vader. Maverick felt something in his hand. A red beam flashed before him, emitting a low humming noise. He realised immediatly what it was. A light saber, the elegent weapon of a Jedi. Maverick could now see Vader, standing with his own light saber. Challenging Maverick to strike him down with his anger and his hate. As Maverick swang the mighty light saber, Palpatine emerged from the darkness at Vaders side. Palpatine was repulsive, and the mere sight of him made Maverick want to kill both of them even more. Palpatine was smiling and nodding his head.

Strike them down he did, and then Palpatine's sickening laughter deafened Maverick. He fell to his feet, gripping his throbbing head, trying to open his eyes and focus, but it was in vain. Then he felt himself falling. Falling through the universe itself. He could feel it brushing against him, he could taste it on his tounge, he could hear its secrets. It was not the same universe. It was different, it was a dark universe. A universe of pain, suffering, anger, and hate. And Maverick hated it, and everything else.

Maverick woke at the sound of the voice. He was lying face down on his desk, his arms lying lip by his side. His tormented head was throbbing, but his mind understood what had happened. Maverick had began his journey. And now he had to finish it.

The First Mission

"Finally... Finally I have became a pilot," Marko smiled "a pilot of Imperial navy." Months of training, studding, practicing. It finally paid off. He became the pilot of the elite Imperial Navy, a pilot in the service of the Emperor Palpatine. Here, on the Modified Frigate Zelano his dreams come true.

"Marko Radovich?" A tall, strong man came " I am Ian Mistroy, your squadron commander. Welcome to Modified Frigate Zelano, and" he adds "to Gem squadron"

"I am honored to join you" Marko said "I have heard that we are hypering out of this system. Where?"

"To the randezveros point with the fleet of Lord Vader." Ian said "there we are going on our ultimate destination"

"Where?"

"Military secret"

"I am going to my room."

"Exilent. I shall follow you there. My room is just across the hall."

Marko entered his room and lay on the bed. He was relay tired from the small shuttle. But it was not important now. Only thing that is really important is that he is now here.

So, it is a Imperial Star Destroyer. The great ship majestically orbited around the small moon. So powerful, so mythy. He looked so invincible, as it can not be destroyed. Then another starhip arrived. More bigger, more powerful than last one. SSD Executor, flagship of the Lord Vader. I have never seen something so powerful.

"All right pilots, listen up." Holographic imige of Lord Vader apearded " We are hypering to Hoth system, where is located the main rebel base. Once we exit hyperspace, be redy for launching. That is all. Serve the Emperor above all others!"

Marko observed the battle. Some of the Rebel ships maniged to fight their way throguth. Others were destroyd. He saw Tie Bombers launching torpedoes on the rebel ships, Tie interceptors and Tie Fighters were fighting rebel fighters and capital ships were waiting the command of the Lord Vader. Suddenly, he saw one of the rebel Calamari Crushers diaspier in the flame. Ships tryd to escape, but it was too late; one who launced where destroyd.

Then, a communicator ringed. "All of Gem squadron, hurry on briefing." Marko run down the hall. He entered Briefing room and came to the Briefing officier.

"What is the objective of this misson?" Marko asked

"Quite simple. One of rebel Calamari Crushers has escaped, and now it is taking its suplies. He is protected only by a some Z-95 Headhunters sn Y-wings, so it is quite wounable. You are to fly in Tie Bomber, marked Gem-2-3, carrying proton torpedos. Your mission is to destroy ALL rebel crafts. We are exiting hyperspace. Go now!"

Marko run and entered his Tie. He chek are all systems functioning. Mehanic hand carryd his craft until it reached trap-door. Then metal hand relesed his craf, and Marko activated his engines. Ha was in space!

He first take a look at inflight map. A few Headhunters and Y-wings, against four Tie Interceptors, and three Tie Bombers. Some heavy lifters were going out to pick containers. Gem-2-3, heir Gem-2-1. Break off and attack those containers, and heavy lifters. Gem-2-2, switch on proton torpedoes and follow me."

Marko heed for the containers. He fired on the first one, until it exploded. Then he headed for the Heavy lifters. He quickly took out two of them. Than, he saw that he has a Z-95 on his tail. He started to do evasive maneuvers. Soonly the situation changed. Marko had a clear shoot and he fired a few times. Headhunter disappeared in flame. "Well done, Marko" said his flight leader. Marko returned destroying the heavy lifters. He destroyed them one by one. After he destroyed the heavy lifters, he returned to destroy the containers. The Rebels where panicked. Those who tried to attack the bombers where destroyed by Interceptors. "Warning, Y-Wings were launched! They are heding for the Zelano!" Said the voice. Marko heded for them. He placed behind them and destroyd them one by one. After no more Y-Wings left, he turned to attack the Calamari. He searched for his FL. There were no sing of them. Destroyd by Calamari. "Gem-2-3, better finish that Calamari, we have Rebel fighters exitinig hyperspace. A squadron of X-wings, A-wings and B-wings. We can not fight them!"

"I need mor time, Ian" shouted Marko.

"This is Zelano, sending four Tie Fighters, flight group Gem-3"

Marko switched on proton torpedoes and targeted Calamari. Suddenly, laser shots passed by. "Marko, you have two X-wings on your tail. Try to out maneuver them until I arrive to help you" Marko tried to evade laser shots from the X-wings. It seemed that it was passed a hundred years until he did not locked his target. He quickly relesed his cargo and turn around on the X-wings. Ian has destroyd two, but now he was chased by one of them. Marko fired and the X-wing exploded.

"Thanks, Marko. I will never forget you that." Ian said

Marko checked Calamari status. His hull was dangerously low, but Marko had no proton torpedoes.

"Ian, cover me; I am going to fire that Calamari with lasers."

"OK. There are two A-wings just behind us"

"Try to move them away"

Calamari began to fire. Marko quickly moved from the paths of the deadly laser shots and fired. Then again. And again. He came in a desparate position with two A-wings behind him and one capital ship ahead. Marko moved evade a burst of laser beams that hit in one A-wing. he exploded. Marko came dangerously near the Calamari and fired. The Calamari began to burn. he quickly moved. The A-wing was not so fast. he rocked into the Calamari crusher, who exploded.

"Well done, Marko. Quickly return"

Marko destroyed a few X-wings on his way back. He parked under the fighter opening; mehanic hand took him and carry his craft in safty of Fregat.

When all crafts where in the Fregat jumped in hyperspace. Marko came at the debriefing office.

"What was our main acompleasment, sir?" he asked a flight officier

"You destroyd a rebel Calamari crusher. That was not an easy task, especially for the unexpiriancet pilot. You shoud be proud whit what you just done. Many mutch older pilots coud not do what you just did. Now we are hypering to the location of SSD Executor. There we shall recive our futher orders. We are proud of you, Radovich."

Marko entered his room and fall on his bed. He was now dressed in long gray tunic, his duty uniform. Just as he closed his eyes, Ian arrived.

"Nice work, Marko"

"Thanks. It was really hard"

"Yes, it was. Your Tie Bomber was hardly damaged. "

"Really? I didn't noticed that"

" Marko, I wish to say sorry for leaving you to those two A-wings; I was heavily damaged so I had to escape"

"No problem Ian."

"But, you have proved that you are a good pilot."

"Beginner's luck"

"There is no such thing as beginners luck, Marko"

"As you say Ian. Now leave me to sleep."

"I'll wake you up soonly for your next mission"

"I don't care" said Marko "can you get out, please"

"As you wish" said Ian.

Ian looked at Marko for a few moments. Sleep well, Ace. he tought and exited. I have not done that since....I dont remember.

And with that last tought Ian went down the hall

If I were Jake Lloyd it would be nice. I would be the star of a Star Wars movie. I'd have it all. I'd be the happiest boy on Earth. I'd be talking to George Lucas every day, meeting original stars, and the list goes on!

Hmmm…If I were Jake Lloyd. I would be Anakin Skywalker soon-to-be Darth Vader. I would be on the cover of Star Wars Insider. I would know the true feeling of the Force running in my blood. I could feel myself letting go, slipping towards the Dark Side!

Wow! If I was Jake Lloyd think of what the people would say at school after the movie was done! Think how famous I'd be! It would be the greatest movie event in history! I get all the Star Wars "stuff" I'd ever wanted. "My training would be complete…"

Well, I'm not Jake Lloyd. But I am still someone who loves Star Wars just as much; someone who respects Star Wars. I am a fan. A one out of a billion fan. I think I speak for everyone here, working in The Emperor's Hammer when I say: "Thanks George."

-Arcon Telf, 8-9-98

Imperial Navy Pilot Record

Name: Benjamin J. Adams

Rank: General

Scandoc Transmission Code (Email): Jedi1111@bellsouth.net

Sex (M/F): Male

Race: Human

Date of Birth: Place of Birth (Please include Homeworld): Corellia, Corellian sector

Marital Status: Single

Family: Dead killed by a rebel bomb

Social Status (Destitute, Poor, Well-to-do, Wealthy, Nobility): wealthy

Significant Events of Childhood & Adolescence: Growing up in the house of an Imperial Ship Design Scientist

Significant Events of Adulthood: Death of Family

First Imperial Captian tring to defect and take everyone on the ship with him

Alignment & Attitude: Empire is my famly, The rebels took my first famly, so they must die

Former Occupations (if any): Cor Sec Elite Fighting unit (Sniper Hand to Hand Combat)

Hobbies: Killing Rebels, Martial Art, The Dark Side

Tragedies: like I said my family was killed

Phobias & Allergies: None

Personal views of the Empire (and Emperor's Hammer): I love the Empire and the Emperor 's Hammer as long as no one ties to defect then I will tyr until I die to kill them.

Reason for applying to the Emperor's Hammer Elite Strike Fleet: After killing my tratorous captain I was looking for a new home and the Emperor's Hammer is the best.

Other comments or information (optional):

I hereby confirm that the above information is legitimate and accurate to the best of my knowledge.

Signature: FM/GN Adams/Stalker 3-2/Wing I/SSD Avenger

App/Sith/Borealis of Aquillas

Commander's Own

Date: Aug, #,1998

Imperial Navy Pilot Record

Name: Charles Boston

Rank: General

Scandoc Transmission Code (Email): charlieb@mediaone.net

Sex (M/F): Male

Race: Human

Date of Birth: Place of Birth (Please include Homeworld): 25 years ago, Corellia

Marital Status: Single

Family: Mother died at his birth, Father owns a small string of apartment buildings. Sister was an imperial spy for 6 years until she was killed by the rebels.

Social Status (Destitute, Poor, Well-to-do, Wealthy, Nobility): Wealthy, due to sister's loss and Empire's gratitude for her work.

Significant Events of Childhood & Adolescence: Found and killed a rebel spy while working a part time job at the main office of the Corellian Security Force.

Significant Events of Adulthood: Began training as a Dark Jedi, and showed great strenght in using it to increase his flying capabilities.

Alignment & Attitude: Would give anything to protect the ideas of the Empire and the Dark Side. Strongly believes in the strength and glory of the Empire.

Former Occupations (if any): Jedi Hunter for a short time. Decided he liked flying better and chose to return to the Imperial Navy.

Hobbies: Practicing and improving his force abilities, working on his flying skills and accuracy.

Tragedies: Sister was killed by rebels while spying for the Empire.

Phobias & Allergies: None

Personal views of the Empire (and Emperor's Hammer): The Empire is the supreme force in the Galaxy, and the only way to escape the corruption of the rebels.

Reason for applying to the Emperor's Hammer Elite Strike Fleet: To crush the rebels, and to bring Glory to the Empire!

Other comments or information (optional): Would do anything for the Empire, even if it means giving his life.

I hereby confirm that the above information is legitimate and accurate to the best of my knowledge.

Signature: Charles Boston

Date: 8.02.98

Jason's Character Bio

Name: Jason Quaal

Rank: General

E-Mail: jsiehr@execpc.com

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Date of birth: Unknown

Place of birth: Dantooine

Marital status: Single

Family: Mother and Father dead of natural causes, no siblings.

Social status: Wealthy

Significant events in childhood: Lost for one year in the wilderness of Dantooine.

Significant events of adulthood: While he was a smuggler on a freighter he was boarded by imperial stormtroopers and taken to vader himself, there vader probed him to see if he had any affinity in the force. Vader was astonished in his potential in the force. Vader then enrolled me into the tie corps were they found out he was a wonderful pilot as well. When he was found in his freighter he was only 15 and when he enrolled in the tie corps he was only 16.

Former Occupation: Smuggler/Trader

Tragedies: Being lost in the wilderness of Dantooine for a year. There he had many tragedies, including almost being caught by the rebels that had a base there.

Hobbies: Computers in general.

Phobias/Allergies: N/A

Personal view of the Empire: There has to be order in the universe, and the Empire can supply that very well.

Reason for joining the EH: I had no choice.

The Minervan Threat : Part 1

FM/LG Manesh/Praetorian-2-4/DGN Lichtor V

Minos Part 4 - War Marshal von Reinthaler

"The Death of a Friend"

"All right, men, form up on my wing," buzzed War Marshal Reinthaler over the X-Wing's comm link. "We'll head back to the Bismarck now." Reinthaler swooped his X-wing into a tight roll and glanced over his shoulder to watch the pilots of the command staff follow in perfect unison. Inside each of the 12 various craft that comprised the squadron were one of the Infiltrator Wing's highly trained command officers. They were the glue that held the fleet together.

The Command Officers of the Infiltrator Wing did not hide from the wars that plagued the Empire like most officers did. They did not lead the battles from the bridge of the largest ship with the strongest shields, but from the cockpits of the snubfighters that would be the first craft into any engagement. Yes, Reinthaler knew it was extremely dangerous to risk the life of one of these officers. They were long-time veterans within the Infiltrator Wing. Their experience was irreplaceable.

However, to this date, their skills had prevailed. The Infiltrator Wing had never lost a single command staff member in a combat engagement. And surely a routine training exercise like this one would not prove fatal... except maybe to their egos Echelon Marshal Jammin was already feeling the pains of becoming a command staff officer after being in the IW's Elite Ares squadron for so long. He hadn't been able to practice his skills as much as he would have liked, and had missed three of the targets in the exercise today. The other officers chuckled to themselves when they heard the thump of his helmet on the canopy of his X-Wing over the comm whenever his shots were so far from target.

"Good work today, gents," spoke Vice Marshal Crimedog. "Now I don't feel so bad for not hitting the SIMs last week. Thanks, Jammin!"

Jammin cursed under his breath as he banked behind the Executive Officer's X-Wing and brought it up under his scope. He watched as his targeting computer screamed red with a good lock and laughed hysterically over the comm link.

"Hahah, very funny, Jammin," chuckled Crimedog. "Try opening your s-foils." The rest of the commanders laughed except Reinthaler.

"Keep this one professional, boys. This space is still not entirely free of rebel activity." Even though Karana was Hammer space, it was close to the disputed Minos System Reports of Rebel convoys traveling through the southern sectors were increasing.

"Aye, sir"

"Yes, sir, sorry"

"Ok, make your heading two nine seven zero niner. The Bismarck is holding at 15 klicks from this location awaiting our return," ordered Reinthaler from the lead X-Wing. He smoothly banked his craft to the coordinates and hailed Vice Marshal Bigdog from the bridge of the MC-90 Bismarck. After three seconds delay, he heard the hiss of comm static and then the Commodore's voice.

"Sir?" asked the Vice Marshal.

"BigDog, the command staff is making its way back home, all training maneuvers completed," responded Reinthaler.

"Very good, sir. I'll have the deck crews standing by."

"Hey Bigdawg... is lunch ready?" chuckled Master General Cardiac.

"You ordered the wampa testicles, right, Cardiac?" laughed Reinthaler. "I think the Commodore has other duties to attend."

Cardiac protested while BigDog snickered and stated, "We await your return. Bismarck out." The comm static hissed and then was silent. The squadron made it's way towards the enormous stolen capital ship. From this distance Reinthaler could still make out its characteristic Calimari shape. He stared at the large vessel, lost in thought.

His R-2 unit shrilled.

"STOP IT, JAMMIN!" screamed Reinthaler, angrily. "Crimedog was the one making fun you, not me! No need to lock me in your scopes!"

"Sir? My targeting computer is off," replied Jammin, worriedly.

"What the... who the hell has me in missile looo......"

"SIR, INCOMING TORPEDOS!" yelled Crimedog so loudly the comm link screeched.

Reinthaler dove his X-Wing into a tight roll and banked sharply to the right. The G-forces pressed him so tightly against his chair that he fought the breathe. A single torpedo zoomed past his X-Wing a few meters away and exploded well away from his ship. "Anyone else in lock?!?"

Everyone replied negative; the multiple torpedoes closed in on Reinthaler's X-Wing. Sweat began to trickle down the side of Reinthaler's face, but he wouldn't take his hand off the control stick to wipe it away. "We aren't packing counter measures... god damn there are a lot of torps out there. Where the hell did they come from? Everyone, turn into the torps and start blasting away!"

The squadron looped off course and opened their s-foils, ready to save their commander. Crimedog took lead and ordered single link shots to take out the torpedoes. The officers obeyed without question.

Reinthaler flipped his X-Wing around and headed towards the torpedoes. His computer blinked and he heard the familiar voice of his Tactical Officer, Colonel General Satai. "Sir, my computer analysis shows that those torpedoes came from cloaked fighters, possibly on a low power standby. It matches the frequency codes that of a rebel y-wings. They definitely weren't ours, sir. But whoever they were, they are gone now. I'm picking up hyperspace trails."

Reinthaler let out his breath. God damn rebel bastards!

Several of the torpedoes had already been shot down by the squadron. Every ship was turning and firing at the missiles in a organized array of precision flying. Reinthaler began to swell with pride as he watched his closest officers take out more waves of torpedoes. These men were risking their lives to save his. True Imperials.

Finally, Echelon Marshal Rich acknowledged, "My computer doesn't show any more missiles. I think we got the last of them. Are you ok, Commander?"

"Yes, good work, men, I owe you my... wait... ahhhhhh!"

A torpedo slammed into the back of Reinthaler's X-Wing. It began to spin out of control and fire spewed from the starboard s-foils.

"REIN!!!" cried Crimedog. Without hesitation he transferred all power from his lasers and shields to his engines and rushed his X-Wing as fast as he could to Reinthaler's crippled craft. It did not look good; Reinthaler could be dead. "SIR? ARE YOU THERE? PLEASE RESPOND!"

From the cockpit of his spinning X-wing, Reinthaler coughed up some blood and sputtered, "I'm here... X-Wing has tak......... rect hit. I'm losing thrus........ ields are gone. R-2 gon...... n't control it. Stabilizers are malfunc....... old her together..."

Crimedog closed in on his commander. He grimaced as his saw his commander's dying X-Wing's starboard s-foil float past him, completely blown off from the fuselage. Reinthaler's craft was intact, but he had to be losing atmosphere, and fast. "Sir, the Bismarck is aware of the situation and is sending a rescue crew. Just hang on."

The only reply was Reinthaler's groan of acknowledgement. Things were bad.

And getting worse...

Another torpedo was closing in on Reinthaler's X-Wing to finish the job. How had it gotten past their sensors? They must have been cloaked somehow. Maybe a decoy beam. It didn't matter now. Crimedog knew what he had to do.

"Crimedog, all your power is to your engines... without and lasers or shields, how are you going to take out that torpedo?!" bellowed Rich. He was panicking. He had sworn to protect the War Marshal at all costs.

Crimedog didn't reply. He swooped past Reinthaler's crippled X-Wing and headed straight for the torpedo.

From his cracked canopy, Reinthaler watched as a lone X-Wing flew past. Who was that? Crimedog? What is he doing? My dear Emperor... NO!!!

Crimedog calmly spoke, "For the Infiltrator Wing..." and with that, he closed his eyes and let the torpedo take the life from him...

END PART 4

Greetings fellow EH members. I am Flight Leader, General Virgo of the Inferno Squadron. I am here to tell you the story of my experience in the Emperor's Hammer.

It starts out on my home planet of Corellia. My friend joined up with the EH. He tried to talk me into it but I was kinda chicken. I always admired the Empire. Their power, and wisdom. My friend was gone for about 2 years and then he resigned and moved to Corsacent. I never saw him after that. While I was growing up in Corellia I became a skilled skyhopper pilot, and day after day I flew around in it becoming better and better each day. One day I was walking on the streets of Corellia and stumbled on an EH meeting. This was my chance to join. I thought to myself. I was a skilled skyhopper pilot; maybe I can fly a TIE as good as a skyhopper. Then I thought of being captured, or being killed in battle. I tried to find reasons on why I shouldn't, but I could not find any. So after the meeting I spoke to an officer on how I could join the EH. He told me how and sure enough I was on my way to flying a TIE. I was flown to the ISD Intrepid where I would be apart of the Lion Squadron. I was excited yet nervous. Once I was on bored for a few days I approached my Commander, and asked if there were any orders that he had for me. He ordered me to take the IWATS courses. So I went to the Academy, and took Capital ship assault, bombing, escorting, and I majored in all of them. When I was done with IWATS I was flown right back to my ISD. There I was given a mission. I was nervous. This would be my 1st time flying a real combat mission in a Tie Fighter. I was pumped I was ready to get out there and fight. I was quite successful in the mission I fought hard and strong and came out with 6 kills. Once I got use to the EH. I started to become egar to get my squadron to be the best in the EH. I was looking for things to do in order to help my squadron and to go up in rank. One day I humbly approached Admiral Darth Vader and Grand Admiral Ronin. I asked them if they had any ideas on what to do to go up in rank and to help my squadron. They had ideas, but I do not recall everything that they said. I went out recruiting and got 2 or 3 members and that's when I was given a Medal of Instruction my 1st medal. After a few weeks went buy I was given a message. I was given the position of Flight Leader! Finally I was out of being a Flight Member. And now was Flight Leader, General Virgo. I was overwhelmed with excitement and joy. I began to work harder, and harder. One day our squadron was given a new Commander. Commander BG Torres. I liked him. He seemed very determined to get the Lion Squadron in shape. He was doing a good job in my eyes. A few weeks altar the Lion Squadron was no more. We were all transferred the ISD Challenger, and I was now in the Inferno Squadron. I was happy to be there. I had a new squadron to work with and a new ISD to work on. I continued working on recruiting people, and thinking of ways to make our Squadron the best it could be.

And that my friends ends my story in the EH as of now. I have no intention of leaving it so I am sure more exciting things will come along.

<SALUTE>

Name/Model: Anomolos Medium Cruiser, EF86-D

Designer/Manufacturer: Varian Cantor Corp/Atrel System Drives

Combat Designation: Medium Capital Starship

1 Kadith-Stret Heavy laser (forward mounted)

9 VCC X1-11 Ion Cannons

8 Corellian Corp. Quad-laser batteries (Starfighter suppression)

Atrel Xr-F7 Interceptor system (last line of defense)

Starfighter Squadrons: 11 Personal starfighters, 6 Cantor Missile Boats. 3 VCC KDY M/Assault Transports

Design/Lay out: Upon first glance, one may find slight similarities to the Imperial Class Star Destroyer. But the similarity ends at the vaguely wedged shape hull. The ship was heavily modified for use by the VCC, upon obtainment 2 docking bays were stripped out, and room was made for the personal suites of the Cantors and others. All of the Cantors have luxury accommodations located amidships, just beneath the bridge was roughly directly in the center of the cruiser. The Power generators are maintained at the rear, and one entire fusion plant is given over to maintaining the extremely powerful, but wildly inaccurate heavy laser at the front. Another fusion plant is sufficient for maintaining the ship. The ship is crewless and entirely automated, should it come under attack the Cantor's would likely defend it personally in their starfighters along with their 6 CMB's while the bots would defend the ship with it's weaponry until reinforcements could arrive

Notes/History: The Kadith'Stret'Nakor (known only as "Furries" in many circles) are a prideful people, for 2000 years they had believed in their own infallibility, until the fatal Battles of Coruscant and the Belt that put an end to that pride. That Kadith were shaken and disgusted, locked on their homeworld, civil wars erupted, violence ensued and technology came to a standstill. But after the arrival of Jevra Shiven, and the end of the last, bloodiest civil war the Kadith again turned their eyes towards space. When the Empire attempted to invade 3 years later after a failed alliance (using prototype Imperial Class Star Destroyers, designs given by the Kadith no less), the Kadith became technology hungry. Warship production began, innovations were uncovered, and colonies established. Several new warship designs were pioneered by Atrel System Drives, which had developed the prized Kivetra'Kor Super Cruiser 1000 years prior. Atrel was given their marching orders quickly, develop a medium cruiser, a showpiece for our technology. Atrel quickly responded, and the Akorsa Medium Cruiser was developed, utilizing several Kadith innovations such as the new Plasma batteries, and an improved Interceptor system. The ship quickly went into production, and the Akorsa became a frontline Kadith cruiser, more often than not used to clear the way of starfighters and light to medium Starships so that the lumbering Vet'rols and Kivetra Heavy Cruisers could move in and engage. Interestingly enough, the SEO of Atrel Corp was Vadrian Jerel of House Jerel, mirroring his cousin's position in the Varian Cantor Corp. Vadrian and Tola were quite close, Tola's visit to Vadrian's home on homeworld had marked the only time that that Jerel's of Coruscant had been able to get off planet for a brief time. Unfortunately, they also had to return home, as you are not allowed to remain once you leave homeworld for any length of time. Tola quite enjoyed his boisterous cousin, and never quite forgot him, Tola made a quiet promise to himself that one day he would return to visit his well to do cousin. That didn't quite happen unfortunately, by the time that Tola (now known as Fink) had scraped together the credits to visit his cousin, his duel heritage with the Cantors was discovered and Tola was disowned by the entire house. Tola could no longer wear the name Jerel by Kadith law for he was forsaken. Tola continued on in the Emperor's Hammer, attempting to forget his race, to emulate humans so that one might forget that he was not. Vadrian however had problems of his own, being the SEO of a powerful corporation brought a certain amount of power with it, but Vadrian was not quite up to the cut throat politics inherent to Kadith culture. As one of his allies once said, "To put it mildly, he's just too damn nice." Vadrian's rivals quickly moved in to usurp his position, Vadrian was set up to be shown as a traitor, rumors became rampant that they would attempt a military coup. General Shiven was instantly on his guard, and ordered the imprisonment of Shiven as a precaution. But it was not to be, for Vadrian was tipped off, and in a desperate move, stole his prized creation, an Akorsa cruiser and attempted to escape using only himself and his personal droid as crew. The Kadith military gave furious pursuit, but in the end Shiven was able to make his escape before Kadith Interdictors were brought in to halt him. Vadrian soon realized that he had only one place to go, and quickly decided to seek out his cousin. Vadrian made full speed for Aurora. The Emperor's Hammer was quickly was put on military alert, tracking stations had detected an alien and potentially hostile vessel on direct course for Aurora Prime. The ISD Challenge was one of the first vessels to be put on alert because of it's position in the remote Taylin system. Utilizing the Harpax 2, the vessel was dragged out of hyperspace and investigated. It appeared to be derelict, further investigation found Vadrian, thin and losing Fur from radiation exposure coming from damage in the Kadith attack. The hapless Fur was rushed to bacta treatment so that he might be interrogated, while the Command decided what to do with the magnificent piece of technology before them. In the end, the ship was given over to the Corporate Division, so that they may strip it down and uncover it's secrets. Furious bidding was soon underway by all of the Corps, most notably MIST, Phoenix tech and the Varian Cantor Corp. In the end, the contract went to the VCC, in part because they offered the most money, and in part because a Furry was the SEO (despite the fact that he had never really seen a piece of his people's tech in his life.) Yacko was quite pleased, and it was soon determined that rather than strip it down for secrets, it would become the new flagship of the VCC. Furious work soon began on the ship, various pieces of tech was added, most notably enhanced tracking systems, smaller docking bays (when it could originally hold 3 squadrons, it could now only hold 1 and a half) and Corellian Corp quad laser batteries. Tola soon after began a vain effort to recover his cousin, but it was too late, Tola was soon informed that Interrogation had killed him. Today the Akorsa now rechristened the Valerius serves the VCC well.

And so it went, eventually the Jerel's were driven far from Coruscant from the Empire when it was learned that they were Rebel symphasizers, and above all alien and therefore the enemy. Though Tola was distracted by the joys and trials, the loss of friends and agony of being a Starfighter pilot, he never quite forgot Ginger. He had never even learned her name, yet he was drawn to her and she to him. It was only when Tola came to the Emperor's Hammer that Tola learn his true birthright, that of a Cantor and many new complications came before him, the capture of his brother's wife and many of the other heinous crimes that he had committed as a Rebel came to light, but before that Tola was once again reunited with Ginger. Tola has many talents, one of the many that he gained in the Obsidian Order was tactical infiltration. Tola was soon inserted into the planet Ventral 3, in preparation for the coming assault by Battle Group 2. He had soon set the coordinates, and was about head back when he felt something that he had not felt in 20 years. She was nearby. Tola chose to miss his opportunity to return home, and struck off into the city, for she was around, nearby. Tola searched relentlessly for 3 days, before finally, he found her. She had grown to a beautiful young woman, Tola did not recognize her at first, than he felt it once again, as did she. They were once again reunited, but Ginger had another thing to show to Tola, a child, Zoomba. He was not technically a child, he was an adult in his own right, but Tola felt an instant bond develop between him and his son. Tola and Ginger returned to the ISD Relentless, Tola's posting at the time. Ginger was enthralled with the technology and the starship, as was Zoomba who joined the Emperor's Hammer himself. But Ginger had yet one more secret, she was not all that she seemed. On one particular day, just as the Relentless was about to enter hyperspace an engine blew out killing 30 crewmen and crippling the starship. Sabotage was suspected, and Ginger was implicated. It was discovered that she was a Rebel spy, and thrown in the brig. Tola was dumbfounded, how could his love possibly work for the Rebellion? Ginger of course vehemently denied any connection to the Rebellion, and appealed to Tola's sense of honor, she would never work for the terrorists. Tola teetered on the brink of resignation, he was certain that she was innocent but she would never be released. However, she didn't need to be. At one point, a power surge rocked the Relentless, sending tremors throughout the mile long cruiser and shorting out the power, and Ginger escaped. Tola himself hunted for her, cursing his ignorance, love had made him blind. Tola found her in the docking bay, about to jump ship, Tola nearly killed her, nearly shot his own mate, his love. But he could not, he watched as Ginger stole a TIE Fighter and escaped onto a Rebel Frigate that had been waiting in hyperspace. Tola forever cursed himself after that, for how his love had made him blind. A month later, Tola was offered a transfer to the ISD Challenge by Commander Kessler and Tola took it, he could never again serve on that ship. However, as a testimony of his love for Ginger, he took their only child under his wing and strengthened the bond, for they were not just Jerel's, nor Nal Tor's, nor even Furries. They were Cantors/

[Minos Prologue]

The south hanger deck of the PLT Destrier was lined with eight X-wings and four A-wings facing towards the center of the landing ramp, each glistening with a fresh coat of paint and new equipment upgrades. Two officers in black uniforms slowly walked down the middle of the craft, turning their heads in admiration. The first officer, who was a step in front of the second, had dark blonde hair with tones of a darker brown showing from the roots and sides. His eyes were a piercing pale green. Anymore green and he would have the look of a madman, but at this shade it gave him a deep look of concentration. He was built with broad shoulders and the Imperial uniform he wore only enhanced this.

The officer paused, then strode to one of the X-Wings and crouched under its starboard s-foil and looked up, as if closely inspecting the wing. He stood up and ran his hand down the side of the fuselage as he walked back to where the second officer was standing.

"Hmmmm..."

"Sir?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing..."

The second officer gave a puzzled look to his superior. He was older than his commander by a few years, but it wasn't noticeable. He had nearly the same dark blonde hair as his superior and the same green eyes. They had sometimes been mistaken for twins, which both of them made jokes about. "Are the new X-Wings unsatisfactory?"

The first officer looked back at the X-Wing for a moment before stating, "No, not at all. They are perfect, our technicians did an excellent job."

The second officer could tell this was leading no where. "Sir, if you like, I'll paint them pink for you."

The commanding officer looked over to his XO and grinned. "Shut up, Crimedog."

Vice Marshal Crimedog acted stunned then said, "It's Minos, isn't it?"

Reinthaler turned towards the open hanger doors and stared at the infinite blackness of stars. He could almost see the magnetic field that held the vacuum out, that separated them from death. Ever since War Marshal Reinthaler was promoted to Infiltrator Wing Commander, he had to deal with the daily problems of a dying fleet. After months of tiresome work, the fleet had finally shaped up into a primed fighting unit. But one problem still remained.

"We've been stuck in this backwash of a system since the first days of this fleet," Reinthaler groaned. It had been true. Phare system was located in the back of Hammer space. "We train in the SIMs all day and run the same damn drills week in, week out."

Crimedog could tell his commander was becoming agitated. He had been thinking the same things for the last few months. There wasn't much they could do. They had the best fighters and the best commanders, but the Rebels were clear on the other side of the territory. Minos cluster they called it. Four disputed systems along the Imperial/Rebel border. Currently only small victories had been won for either side. He knew Reinthaler wanted to change that.

Crimedog opened his mouth to say something as the port access door flung open. An officer of incredible youth rushed out into the hanger and upon spotting his two commanders standing 4 meters away, snapped to attention with a brisk salute.

"Sir, we have received a message from Aurora through secure channels," bellowed Echelon Marshal Rich, panting for breath. "I took the liberty of decoding it for you." The young officer handed Reinthaler a datapad and waited intently.

Crimedog looked at Reinthaler who wore an expression of concern. "I hope it's good news."

Reinthaler punched in his personal security code. After a few beeps and movements of his hand Reinthaler smiled faintly and handed Rich the datapad. "Thank you Rich, that will be all."

Rich looked disappointed. He hesitated for a moment before turning back towards the door and letting himself out. This time he walked.

"What was it?" Crimedog asked.

Reinthaler let out a yell. To Crimedog it sounded like a victory war cry, something he only heard Reinthaler shout when he was stir crazy from winning in the SIMs. Reinthaler was very excited indeed.

"That was from the Grand Admiral," Reinthaler cheered. "We have been ordered to transfer to Karana System! Ronin wants us to spearhead the invasion into Lyccos II. Just think of it... all the rebels in the world to frag!

Crimedog smiled to himself and enjoyed seeing Reinthaler's mood improve so drastically.

"Shall I inform the crew, sir?" Crimedog asked, barely containing his excitement.

"Wont be necessary, I'm going to announce it at tonight's meeting. Tell the men to meet in the Assembly Hall one hour earlier though."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Hmmm... yes. Afterwards I'll need you to help me distribute some of that vodka and corellian whiskey we have been storing to the men.

"More than happy to help!" exclaimed Crimedog with a big grin on his face.

****************************************

And so it begins...

NOTE TO THE CREW: This is the Minos run on story. You may all write your own parts as long as it goes along with the plot. Send the part to emperors@silcon.com so I may put it in the correct order and then I will post it on the IW message Board and the the IW Minos page when it is up. Keep this one fun :)

By

Villegas sensed a disturbance in the Force. Reeling from the sudden impact on his mind, he extended his senses and reached out along the tendrils of power that are the Force, searching for what might have caused it. Dizzy from his efforts, he set aside his datapad, and gave his head a shake to clear his vision. After a few moments, he was able to stand. Someone has died he thought gravely. And that someone died at the hands of one who was of the Dark side. So he jumped into his ship and flew to where he sensed the disturbance in the Force. He jumped into hyperspace from his homeworld of Obseldia in the Sumitra Sector. When he returned to realspace, he found a huge capital ship in front of him with TIE starfighters circling around it.

Jedi Knight Training Part 1: The Introduction

By

GRD Sabaci Drekmore (Krath)/Senryaku of Aquillas

When Regesd was born, he was destined to become a Dark Jedi. His father was a merciless bounty hunter who left the family after Regesd was born. His mother was a powerful Dark Jedi.

As he grew older and older, he grew stronger and stronger in the dark side of the Force. The boy was partially trained by his mother. But his mother was not very powerful in the dark side to fully train the young Dark Jedi so she had him send to a very well known Dark Jedi Master by the name of Nic Quc.

At the age of twelve, Regesd was shipped to the Hombregad system to train with Master Nic Quc.

Regesd went to his ship and jumped in. "See you in about a couple of years, mother. Next time I see you, I will be a fully trained Dark Jedi. Well, at least I hope that will be true." He waved to his mother and the next thing that happened was he jumped his ship into hyperspace to the Hombregad system.

He approached the planet of Sariskal, the planet on which Nic Quc lived on. "This planet doesn't seem too friendly. A typical place for a Dark Jedi Master to live."

Regesd hopped out of his ship. There in the shadows, stood a dark figure. He was dressed in black clothes. His eyes small but with a big nose. He was not a very tall figure.

He spoke, "Aah, Apprentice Regesd. How nice to see you. I have been expecting you. After your training, you will become a powerful Dark Jedi."

Regesd just stood there without saying a word. He seemed scared or frightened.

"You don't have to be nervous, Regesd. Here is how I see your training plan. First, we will do some lightsaber training against a remote and then against target drones and war droids. You will learn how to block blaster bolts using the dark side. After you have mastered those skills, you will learn basic dark side powers such as Seeing, Healing, Force Jump, and Force Speed. Then we will go to more advanced skills such as Grip and Destruction," said Master Nic Quc.

Master Nic Quc showed Regesd his quarters. It was not very big. It had just enough room for a bed and a little closet. Nic Quc spoke, "You can also use the little lightsaber training chamber down the hall to practice your lightsaber skills."

Regesd was still adjusting to the atmostphere of Sariskal and now he had to adjust to living to a small quarters.

He thought to himself. My life sucks. Why did mom have to send me to this dark jedi master. I'm sure there's plenty of other dark jedi masters out there. Well, I have no choice. I'm stuck with this guy.

The first night in his new quarters, he couldn't sleep. He kept twisting and turning. This REALLY sucks, Regesd thought. But eventually he felt asleep. At 6:00 AM Hombregad time, Nic Quc woke Regesd up.

"Did you sleep well, Regesd?" asked Nic Quc.

"Not so well, my master," replied Regesd.

They had breakfast. Then they hurried over to the lightsaber training/combat chamber.

My thoughts turned to the five other men who were making this journey with me. Yes, Nun squadron had come a long way since our last mission in the Minos asteroid belts. Back then, when we had unwittingly stumbled into the Rebellion advanced mining defence system, my first and only squadron had been a lonely, single flight of four people. We were now a real half-squadron; Gen. Cuptoman, our oldest veteran pilot, who had been a flight member before I'd even learned about the Hammer, had finally returned from a long absence, and taken back his place in the second flight group which Brig.-Gen. Arcol Delplancq commanded. We had also received a new pilot, Gen. Bob-Fett, a Mandalorean flight member who had recently transferred aboard from Cheth Squadron, and whom I had placed in my personal flight group. Besides, the rest of the squadron had become more experienced; the newly promoted Brig.-Gen. Freelancer had proven himself more than capable of handling Rebel threats, and so had his flight member, Sylus Krymil, although the latter remained as mysterious as ever. My old camarade, Delplancq, was still one of the most reliable FLs one could find on the decks of the Sovereign. As always, I was proud at heart to be these men's squadron commander.

I wondered what they were thinking of in their ships, as they navigated through exponential space-time with me. Maybe they were thinking of their families. Perhaps they were thinking about the mission itself, about the ways to intercept every new development, every new ship, every dangerous new threat which could spring death when they expected it the least. I hoped they weren't. Space is not the place to start predicting one's destiny. Even if one thinks he has all of the options covered, one will, one day or another, meet a situation which his thoughts did not allow for. That situation will destroy him. I hoped my men would all come back into real space with their minds clear and their emotions lucid; they didn't need perplexity and confusion haunting their spirits, not during the heat of the battle.

I also hoped that they would all make it back from real space. Only once had I lost a man; the experience had been terrifying. Flying by the wreckage of the man's MIS, and seeing the pilot seat trapped in a storm of electrical fury, drifting into the void, had not been easy to stomach. Returning home and meeting the stares of my CO's had not been easy either. The toughest part of all, though, had been sitting down at my desk, picking up the official ink stylus and paper, and finding the words to relate his death to his family. It had been the only time when I had wished that I had never enrolled. The stylus had shaken me more than the sight of a Calamari turbolaser. The blank paper sheet had seemed emptier than space itself.

"Negative thinking, Vladimir," I told myself. "Banish these thoughts. Find something positive to think about, or something funny. Come on !"

So my mind floated back to the great hall of the S.S.S.D. Sovereign, to the day when my old wingman Calias and I had been promoted to Lieutenant General. It had been a glorious ceremony. The old guard of Nun Squadron had made it to LG together. The three other commanders in the wing had received Palpatine Crescents. My first commander, MG Sarok, now Wing I's commander, had stood in the first row, looking on. Little did he know that he too would soon be promoted, to Rear Admiral. Yes, it was a good time to have been in Nun Squadron's barracks.

The party in the Sov's Cantina had been fun too. Admiral Kramer had brought a bottle of Alderaan Wine from one of his numerous vaults for the Wing V commanders, then-MG Chandler had, as usual, fried his taste buds to a crisp with his "Kharina Special" gin, everybody was drinking, telling stories, and having great fun. It was a good time to have been an Imperial, part of the gang, sharing the camaraderie.

Yes, it was. But there was no laughter here where I was, no shouting. There was only the wail of the hyperdrive. I checked the counter on my instrument display: two minutes, thirty-eight seconds before re-entry. Two minutes, thirty-eight seconds of blissfuly quiet nonexistence before the brutal struggle of war resumed... a very short two minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I had barely prepared all my systems for battle when space became black again.

Looking up at my long-range sensors, I saw five bright Imperial red dots appearing one after the other. Well, that was a good sign; I didn't fancy flying solo deep inside Rebel space. I really didn't. A vision which had pleased me less, though, was the sight of a dozen dark green dots on the same sensor scope. There were many Rebels, or New Republicans, as they arrogantly called themselves, out there. Finally, I saw something which I didn't need my sensors to detect. It was so big I could see it without any targeting systems. Back in the old days, seeing what I now saw out there floating in space would have warmed any Imperial pilot's heart with pride. Today, a great feeling of betrayal swept over me as I saw an Allegiance-class Star Destroyer, its dagger shape tearing through the blackness, and, in a certain way, stabbing at my heart. The ISD, formerly the symbol of Imperial power, had now become a Rebel ship of the line. As much as I hate training my weapons against a Star Destroyer, I have to make the Rebels pay for this treachery. That ship will be ours again soon. Either that, or it will not deface the skies anymore by the time I have left.

"Nun Squadron, report in!," I ordered.

"Nun 1-2 checking in." "2-1 ici." "Nun 2-3, ten-four." "3-1, reporting." "3-2 ready, sir."

Nun Squadron had been given a clear mission: to disable the Republic's Star Destroyer and to eliminate the defences surrounding it so as to prepare it for capture. The Grand Admiral himself had insisted; no destructions. This ship was to be taken intact. The Wing Commander had also stressed this point, hinting that some very senior officers may be overseeing the capture personally.

Yet, for now, we were the only Imperials in the sector, and there was, twelve kilometres away, a squadron of modified X-wings heading towards us, as well as what looked like a pair of light Carrack-class cruisers. Switching to Imperial frequency, I ordered: "Flight leaders, break formation and engage the fighters at will. Flight members, cover your leaders. This should all be in good fun, but remember the self-destruct mechanisms I told you about. Kill them all, but from a distance... Aye, godspeed." Yes, I thought as I switched my COMMs back to open frequency, I had to remind them about that. In our last mission, the "death trap" in the Minos asteroid belts, I had pursued an A-wing which had put up a fair fight and taken my shields down quite a bit. When I had finally gotten a clear shot at his six, I'd thought it was my lucky break. Not so. As I was about to pull the trigger, the A-wing had self-detonated into a white-hot flash of destruction. Taken by surprise, I had flown through the explosion; when I'd emerged, I was shieldless and naked, most of my armor was gone, and almost all of my systems were damaged. My cockpit was ablaze with burnt displays and molten wires. I'd had to ask Delplancq to give me a reading on my armor status; I was so damaged I couldn't even find out by myself. No, I was not about to forget that accident.

Presently, I had X-wing "Red 1", now 8 km away, to deal with. I had an odd feeling of déja vu about this; everybody in my squadron must have sent at least a dozen Red Ones to hell by now. Sometimes, I had faced squadrons with slightly more original names. Some lunatic Rebel admiral had once named his squadrons "Curry," "Madras", and "Vindaloo," which, as I later learned from Xadell, my Wing Commander's nanny (yes, his nanny), were names taken from a very ancient cooking style. Another lunatic admiral with a twisted sense of humor had decided to rename a squadron of Z-95's "Dead Meat." That squadron's CMDR mustn't have found it funny when Nun tore it to pieces.

My communications systems came to life in a crackle of static. "Imperials, this is a New Republic installation guarded by an Allegiance-class Star Destroyer. Surrender at once or be destroyed !"

I could not believe the arrogant little rebel sod who'd just sent this. You're the one who will die, and you're asking me for surrender, I thought. I returned his communication.

"This is Lieutenant General Harkonnen, commander of the Emperor's Hammer heavy assault squadron Nun. I am asking you and your Star Destroyer to resign and to power down. Remember, the Empire was building Star Destroyers before you were born, and is absolutely capable of tearing all of you apart. Take us seriously. Or regret it."

But he didn't. The Rebel commander, taking his squadron into offensive formation, was almost in range as he taunted me once again. "Regret what ? The death of a cocky, over-ranked, greenhorn imp ?" No way !"

Acknowledging the Rebel's refusal, I armed a double load of advanced concussion missiles. Sadly, I started wishing he had surrendered, for two reasons. The first reason was that I hadn't taken the insult well. If he had surrendered, I could have taken him to the High Court of Inquisitors. That would have been fun to watch. The second reason was that the Rebel was certainly, between the two of us, the cocky, over-ranked, greenhorn. He couldn't have been much older than my youngest FM, yet he was in charge of a squadron. Had he surrendered, FA Yoni and his gang might have made him pay for his words, but at least... he might have lived afterwards. Those who don't know me well may call me a traitor or a Rebel sympathiser, but I thought the kid didn't deserve to die just for his youthful arrogance.

The Rebel commander, noticing that I was starting to lock missiles on him, launched his whole flight directly at my MIS in an attempt to distract me. GN Bob-fett went after them, distracting the first flight of X-W's and preventing the Greens from locking on to me. Meanwhile, the targeting reticle on my HUD turned from orange to solid red, and a constant ping sounded in my headset. "Last chance, young Rebel. I have a solid lock on you. Surrender or die." My hand eased the yoke left to keep up with Red 1's jinking, and my index started to contract around the trigger. The Rebel said "Never !". I pulled my index all the way.

Ten seconds later, it was all over for him. As I flew past the wreckage, General Bob-Fett laughed as an X-wing which was tailing me disintegrated into a thousand pieces of superheated durasteel. The Battle had begun.

It was also GN Bob-Fett's first kill with Nun Squadron. I switched back to Imperial frequencies and called out: "Well done, Fett ! Report in, everyone." "1-2 here. All systems nominal!" "2-1 here. Pas trop égratigné." "2-3 here, sir ! Shields a bit beat up, but doing fine. Red 10 is one mean X-wing, though. Watch out." "3-1 here. No worries. Moving in to kill Red 10. " 3-2 here. Shields low. Making evasive maneuvers."

As my men reported, two more X-wings easily went down. I rapidly selected a few targets in sequence, to evaluate the general status of the battle. The Empire held a slight edge, but something caught my eye: Red 10 was still alive, and unscathed ! You're right, Cuptoman, he's a tough one. I kept him targeted, activated the SLAMs on my spacecraft, and heard my ion engines' howl turn into a strident whoosh. Rushing towards the X-wing at 200 MGLT, I felt the old thrill of the challenge, and another feeling, the Force warning me of danger. The X-wing itself was not what I feared. The Force wouldn't warn me for a single starfighter.. Something else was wrong. My wingmen ? No. They seemed fine, and I was about to engage the toughest alphabet fighter. What could it be ?

I was jolted by a shower of laser bolts as Carrack Cruiser Antares I fired a half-dozen turbolaser batteries at me. I reflexively looked at my shield gauges. Thirty percent fore, fifty aft. I hadn't forgotten about that cruiser, but I hadn't thought that I could be so seriously hit at the speeds at which I went. Was the cruiser worrying me ? The Carracks were certainly a threat to the mission, because such cruisers could easily dispatch any assault transports heading towards the ASD, but... was it a threat to me ? Not really... anyway, I would find out soon enough. I had an X-W ace to deal with. I shut off the SLAMs, balanced and recharged my shields, and waited for the moment when I would be in range.

Attacking capital ships in a missile boat is heaven. Fighting mediocre or average starfighter pilots in a MIS is also rather easy, simply because of the massive firepower that can rapidly be deployed by a Cygnus Spaceworks XM-1 against predictable targets.

However, when it came to fighting aces, I'd be exalted to trade my MIS, plus two months of my salary, for a TIE Defender. Hell, I'd also be happy to trade my boat in for a T/A, and even a T/I would look like a fair trade. This is because aces simply move too fast, too well, to give missiles a clear lock on them. With missiles basically useless, all I had left was my MIS's single laser cannon.

I saw the X-wing open fire on BG Freelancer's TIE Defender. The powerful red bolts hit my FL's spaceship, one after the other, with frightening accuracy. Although I was out of range, I was very eager to distract Red 10. I squeezed the trigger and peppered the space surrounding the Rebel with a flurry of ineffective, yet distracting laser bolts. The alphabet fighter easily jinked left and right to avoid my scattered shots, and pulled up into a sharp split-S, steady as ever on Freelancer's tail. My heart skipped a beat when the X-wing's massive quad cannons unloaded another stream of fire squarely into Freelancer's engines. I twisted my MIS and turned up too; once again, I activated the sublight acceleration modules on my boat. The acceleration crushed me; I felt my seat press hard against my sweaty back, and my racing heart thumped painfully under the G-forces. Soon enough, my eyes, heavy with blood, saw Red 10 come within view. I pulled the trigger just as the X-wing's engines were lined up with my crosshairs. The starfighter went into a sharp dive, but too late: I had seen the space around the X-W light up as the Rebel's shields took the impact. Checking my multifunction display, I saw that his shields had dropped down to 78 percent.

I banked onto my side, cut off my SLAMs, and pulled up in a lofty arc, hoping to catch the enemy fighter at the end of his turn. The turn allowed me to catch my breath and to take a quick look around me to see how my men were doing. There was a missile boat launching rockets at one of the Carracks, and another boat firing at the X-wings which attempted to destroy the first MIS. That must have been Flight II. I could not see my other ships. Swerving through the starfield in search for the Rebel ace, I called out for a report. The bracketed green dot in my scopes moved ever higher...Damn, how does he turn so fast ?

"Fett here, m'okay, just about to kill some loser on your tail..." Where are you, Rebel ? "Krymil here. I'm kind of beat up. I'll have to forget Red 10 and attack the Rebs who're tailing me..." Ah, there you are !

"OK, Krymil, break and attack at will," I told my pilot, as I dumped energy to my engines and pumped a few shots into the X-wing's S-foils, taking his shields down to 63 percent before he evaded my field of view again...

"Cuptoman here; helping Delplancq take out the turrets on the Carrack. Its shields are almost dead. I'm fine." Die already !

A red light appeared above my targeting reticle; someone had his sights on me...

"Freelancer here; beat up, but for now, it's all happy hunting for me, commander." Yeah, right. That Red 10 is after me now, and so are his buddies, that's why...

"Delplancq here. My shields are almost dead, but so is the Carrack... I'm firing rockets rockets... wait ! THE CARRACK'S LAUNCHING A-WINGS ! Four of them ! "

A white flash behind me illuminated my cockpit; another X-wing thrown back into oblivion. I was too concerned by Delplancq's bad news to be happy. Five X's out of twelve had been destroyed, but four of them had been replaced by the deadlier A-wings. It was time for a change in plans. "Everybody, form on Delplancq's wing on the double. As soon as he's destroyed the Carrack cruiser, attack the A-wings. All at once,with missiles. Fire even if you have an incomplete lock." I waited for my men to confirm, and went back after Red 10.

The dark feeling of impending doom grew ever stronger in my guts.

During the time I had taken to reorganize the squadron, the ace Rebel had sneaked up behind me. Four supercharged laser bolts fizzled against my rear shields and rattled my warcraft. The deadly orange flash which warned me of an impending warhead lock appeared atop my aiming reticle along with the red light of enemy laser lock. More lasers hit my craft in single file, striking as often as the beat of my panicking heart.

Power down, Vladimir, the Force commanded. "WHAT ?", I exclaimed aloud, as four more laser bolts brought my rear shields close to failure. Shut off your throttle, Vladimir ! My sweaty, trembling fingers hastily reached for my power control levels. I dumped my engine power into shields, and waited. Red 10, to my great surprise, overshot and flew over my head. My fingers, feeling numb, as if commanded by an alien will, flipped the four-way weapons control switch to missiles.

A wave of elation swept me over. I felt like a kid again, letting out a loud war whoop into the communications systems, corkscrewing into a long barrel roll, letting the euphoria wash over me. When it receded, I searched my feelings. The joy was gone... but the fear remained. It was now a throat-tightening apprehension. The battle was far from over.

I eased the throttle back to cruising speed, and flipped my MFD to map mode to assess the situation. The rest of Nun squadron, flying in formation, had smashed two A-wings before they had even entered cannon range. However, the six other X-wings that remained were now rushing towards them. I was almost in missile range of them; I prayed, hoping they would be too blood-thirsty to notice me sneaking up on them. Picking the nearest X-wing, I armed my warheads, and waited for lock. I saw my missile boats and TIE Defenders fire warheads at the two A-wings. I saw the X-wing I was chasing fire a missile at a TIE Defender. I then heard my own missile lock tone and fired at X-wing Red 2.

The A-wings disappeared from my map view and, at the same time, I saw them explode. The TIE Defender twisted and turned, but to no avail. I saw the red streak get closer and closer to it, feeling hopeless... "Aaaah ! I'm hit !," I heard Freelancer exclaim. "My armor is damaged ! It's in the red, boss !"

I joylessly saw an X-wing icon disappear from my three-dimensional map. Red 2. "Well, at least, the one who shot you is dead, Nun 3-1. How's everybody else doing ?"

I didn't like what I heard. Delplancq's shields were down. Cuptoman's shields were all right, but the Carrack cruiser's turbloasers had damaged his warhead launchers, which would not be operational for a while. Bob-Fett had been chased quite a bit while he'd been covering me, and his shields were very thin. Krymil had been doing better than before, now that he had freedom to attack whichever target he chose, but would still have to wait a while before his shields went back to full strength. We were, all in all, a pretty sorry squadron which still had a Star Destroyer, five X-wings, and a Carrack to beat.

As well as the ominous feeling of danger which permeated my every cell.

I didn't want the A-wing incident to happen again. It had forced me to fly without my squadron's cover, and my men had taken quite a lot of damage during all of the dogfighting. "Everybody, dump cannon power to engines. Delplancq and Fett, form on my wing, wedge formation. Arm rockets. We're taking out the other Carrack now. Put all of your laser power into your shields, you won't need it. Flight III and Cuptoman, evasive maneuvers. Freelancer, can you stay with us ?"

The reply came through a curtain of static, like a faraway voice in a snowstorm: "...don't know...have...in the red...ee on..." It was certainly not what I'd hoped to hear. BG Freelancer was, from the sound of it, severely damaged. On the other hand, he was also the leader of a flight of TIE Defenders, which, unlike the XM-1 Missile Boats, possessed ion cannons, which were critical to the success of the mission, as they were the only weapons capable of disabling the Star Destroyer prior to capture.

I reluctantly adjusted my headset, and said: "Head home, Freelancer. Krymil, guard yourself well. You'll have to disable their Star Destroyer alone. Harkonnen out." I looked behind me and saw Freelancer break away from our group. His craft flew away from me, and then accelerated to impossible speeds, disappearing into a dim, faraway hyperjump flash.

I waited for my men to form the reversed V of a wedge formation. When we had regrouped, we slowly began a long, curving turn towards the other Carrack, and, once it was squarely in our sights, we eased our throttle levers forwards. Aided by the supplemental energy we had diverted from our cannon systems, our engines propelled our fighter-bombers forwards at great speeds. The distance indicator in my MFD tumbled down faster than my eyes could see. Next to my MFD was the blood-red glow which indicated that my rocket launchers were active. The cruiser was now in range. Glowing red streaks flashed past me, the cruiser's gunners firing at craft which were moving too fast for them to keep track of. I fired my rockets; my craft jarred with dry clanks; then the warheads were off, lunging forward, using the inertia that came from my speeding MIS to propel themselves towards the Carrack's hull. I pulled up, and saw Delplancq and Fett fire their rockets too. The rockets pounded the Rebel warship one after the other. Its hull ruptured in two pieces, its fuel cells drifted out of its gutted metallic hulk, and the ship died a silent death in the emptiness of space. There were no explosive flashes, no spectacular disintegrations. The Carrack simply stopped firing. Its engines died down, the white-hot reactor exhaust ports turning to a bright red, then to a dim crimson, and finally to the dirty, dull metallic glint of tarnished steel. All the lights went out, and the dead cruiser went adrift. In a last spurt of life, a few escape pods shot out of the warship's shell. But no A-wings.

"Well done, everyone ! Cuptoman, can you tell me when your warheads will come back on line ?" I asked.

"Yessir. I'll be able to fight in about... three minutes !"

"Great ! Okay, men, time to regroup. Modified diamond formation. Krymil, you go in the middle."

"Aye aye, sir."

I looked at my map display, and saw my men forming up behind me, as well as the six remaining X-wings, getting closer to us now that the high-speed assault on the Carrack was over. A triangular icon dominated the map, representing the New Republican Star Destroyer which we had to disable.

"Okay, Nun Squadron, now's the time to earn our pay. Target the Allegiance-class Star Destroyer Pericles and arm your advanced concussion missiles. Keep transferring cannon power to engines and shields. Fett, we're going for the starboard shield generators. Two-one, three-two, you're going for the portside generators. Cuptoman, get ready to fire a rocket at that destroyer's warhead launcher. Tell us when your weapons are back on line. Squadron, on Cuptoman's mark, fire missiles. Stand by."

Ion engines howled through the night.

Starfighters ripped the darkness at 170 MGLT.

Rivulets of sweat fell down my brow.

Time passed.

Static hissed.

"Ready in 10 seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

Saliva thinning in my mouth, the taste of fear, ever stronger.

"Fire !"

From this point on, as Nikolai Gogol once put it, events became confused. The Star Destroyer fired a missile at Krymil's lone TIE Defender before Cuptoman's rockets took out the SD's warhead launcher. Eight more advanced missiles rushed out, this time towards the Star Destroyer, taking out its shield generators. Two dozen turbolaser batteries furiously lashed out at Nun squadron, devastating our defences. One of our X-wing pursuers, in a last-ditch attack, had killed his shields to boost his engines, and fired a volley of lasers and unguided missiles at us before being destroyed by Krymil's lasers. I was severely hit: my MFD went blank, and my armor readings read 46 % damage after the balsting had ended. A laser from Delplancq, who had peeled away from the formation to protect Krymil, fortunately destroyed the missile which was homing on him. I ordered retreat.

The formation dissolved, and we rushed away from the destroyer, from the X-wings, from all of the battle. I asked for a status report. Fett and Delplancq were shields down. Krymil had armor damage. Cuptoman's whole weapons systems, cannons, missiles, and all, were on the fritz. Well, our job was almost over. All we had to do was to guard Krymil while he shot a few ion bolts at the shieldless destroyer, and then we could go home. One last pass. I turned my missile boat towards the Rebel Star Destroyer.

The green light in my HUD once again warned me that a capital ship had targeted me. Soon after, I saw red dots on the surface of the warship, which soon became lines, then streaks of fire rushing past me. I zigged and zagged, trying to keep the Pericles' s gunners from noticing Krymil. Then, through the hail of red laser fire that the Destroyer was aiming at me, I saw pairs of blue ion trails rushing at the capital ship. Krymil's fire hit the Star Destroyer; the immense hull of the battleship became covered in a web of lightning, which soon subsided. When it had gone, all the lights on the SD were out. The laser batteries gave a final shot at the place where my MIS had been a fraction ago; then, they too went out. The Star Destroyer had been disabled.

"Excellent work, Krymil ! That was one hell of a shot," I told my FM. But Krymil did not answer. Instead, a dark, echoing voice whispered to me slowly, the voice of my crystallized fear: "Harkonnen, Nun Squadron now comes to an end. Prepare to die."

Four messages appeared on my HUD:

New craft alert, 6 Rebel A-Wings at 4 km.

New craft alert, 6 Rebel T-Wings at 4 km.

Only then did my communications suddenly come to life in a frenzy of voices: "Damn ! An interdictor ! We're stuck ...A-Wings...after me...commander...T-Wings...going...the transports ! We're under attack ! Help! ... can't shoot them, I can't hyper out...aaargh !"

I turned my communications systems off. Could this be it ? The end of Nun Squadron as we knew it ? Would Freelancer soon learn that his squadron had died in battle, trapped like dogs ?

Never. We would fight to the bitter end, and claim the Star Destroyer which was our prize.

I called out to my squadron, one last time, over-riding their communications. "Attention, Nun Squadron. This is your commander speaking. We may not survive this mission. But the assault transports must. If we capture the Star Destroyer, it can take out the Interdictor, smash the Rebel defences, possibly even, God forbid, recuperate our ejector seats. But we must capture it. We must succeed. I want every pilot who can go after the T-Wings to do so. You cannot fail. Long live the Empire. Harkonnen out."

My targeting display was dead, so I followed Delplancq to the T-wings visually. Evading the A-wings, I fired blindly at whoever went near the assault transports. More and more A-wings fired at me, and I was soon caught in an inevitable web of fire. The assault transports moved in on the Destroyer, but so slowly... A T-wing appeared in front of me. I shot a missile, unguided. It covered the few meters between us in a fraction of a second. The T-Wing disintegrated. Then, a shot from an A-wing stripped off whatever shields had reappeared during the asasult on the Star Destroyer. More shots flew by. Another A-wing made a head-on pass at me...

A new message flashed across my HUD:

*****

Four men stood on the bridge of the SSSD Sovereign. One of them wore a black duty uniform. Another wore a dress uniform with ornate epaulets. The third man wore a dress uniform with copper buttons and less ornate epaulets, as well as an insignia with a crescent and a six-pointed star. The last man simply wore white. He spoke first.

"Admiral Kramer, you may launch Wing V. Recall Nun Squadron."

The man with the crescent-and-star said "Yes, sir !" and turned away.

The man in white then turned to the man wearing the epaulets. "Admiral Havok, why are there two dagger-shaped craft there ? I was only informed of one Star Destroyer."

"So was I, Grand Admiral. Ensign Kerensky, what is that ship behind the Pericles ?"

A young ensign, in one of the bridge's lowered substations, answered: "Rebel Interdictor Deathgrip VI, sir."

"I see," the Grand Admiral said. "Turn the Sovereign towards that interdictor. Arm the Axial Superlaser."

"Yes, sir," Sector Admiral Havok said, nodding to his superlaser chief engineer. The engineer nodded in turn and went to his station.

"Admiral Threat ?"

A Fleet Admiral who was standing nearby went at attention. "Yes, sir Ronin !"

"Open the intercom with Nun Squadron. General Freelancer, you have the honour."

Freelancer stepped up and said, hesitantly: "Commander ?"

The voice came over the bridge intercom: "Freelancer, is that you ?"

"Yes, commander. I..."

The words echoed through the bridge: "Shut up, Freelancer, and tell those damn fools up on the Sovereign to send reinforcements now ! And get your sorry ass into a Defender; we need you right now ! Bloody hell, we're dying out here ! Where are you, anyway ?"

Freelancer, tense, looked at the Grand Admiral, visibly embarrassed. He crossed Ronin's stare, and lowered his sights, not daring to look into the Fleet Commander's glowing red eyes. However, Ronin just waved him aside and said: "Lieutenant General Harkonnen ?"

"Yeah, who is this ?"

"Grand Admiral Ronin. Request for reinforcements acknowledged."

The Fleet Commander motioned to FA Threat to cut the transmission.

*****

"You gotta be joking," I muttered, avoiding another A-wing. "You gotta be joking."

Messages flashed across my HUD:

New craft alert, 19 Imperial Missile Boats at 5 km.

New craft alert, 6 Imperial TIE Defenders at 4 km.

New craft alert, 10 Imperial TIE Advanced at 4 km.

"Shee-ite. He wasn't joking." There was only one thing I could do. I flipped my COMM switch. "Nun Squadron, we're going home. Yes, siree, we're going home, back to the Lady Sovereign, boys ! I declare the mission objectives accomplished, repeat, mission's over ! Woo-hoo ! "

A familiar voice rang in my headset. "That's like you, Harkonnen, always quitting when the going gets tough. Sheesh."

"RA Chandler ? What are you doing here ? It's not the best time to take flying lessons, you know..."

"Yeah, right. You know I can out-fly anybody in my wing. I'm better than you all..."

Another familiar voice: "...yeah, you're way better than us at getting shot, Chandler !"

"Calias ? You're here too ?"

"Sure, Harks. The whole wing's here !"

"No way !"

BG Satai answered me:"Yup. We're all here."

"A whole wing against an Interdictor ? It'll get creamed !"

Chandler answered. "No, we're here to kill the transports and clean up the rest of the trash. The Boss has something special for the Interdictor. If I were you, I'd stay here to watch the fireworks."

"The fireworks ? You mean he's going to... No way."

*****

Lieutenant Sikorsky reported: "Axial Superlaser ready, sir."

The Grand Admiral said: "Fire at will."

*****

*****

On the bridge of the Rebel Interdictor Deathgrip VI, Vice Admiral Shazen silently stared at the immense black warship which was pointing straight at him. Then the light blinded him.

*****

"Man, did you see that thing go ?"

"Yeah... You know it's the first time I see it go from a fighter's cockpit ? Wow."

"You said it."

"Yeah. Rear Admiral, I think I've seen enough. I'm going back to the Sov," said I, as I gladly turned towards my mothership's hangar.

"Yeah. See you there, LG. Official cantina debriefing."

"Official cantina debriefing ? Yes !!!"

A Cantina debriefing meant a relaxed reunion between the CO and the people to be debriefed in what was possibly the Empire's best watering hole, the Sovereign Cantina. An "official" cantina debriefing meant that the CO was also responsible for paying his subordinates' drinks. Chandler was not too fond of giving official cantina debriefings to me and to my cohort of hard-drinking Nun members, but he had no choice, given the fact that he had lost a bet against the rest of Wing V, a bet which forced him to pay the whole wing's drinks for a month...

Four hours later, sitting around a table with RA Chandler and the rest of my squadron, I was more than ready to abuse this privilege. A diffuse warmth was slowly rising in me as I spun my Aurorskaya "Grade A" vodka on ice around in my glass and listened to Chandler give us the usual mission statistics. The rest of his wing had apparently made meat out of the remaining Rebels, he said, leaving not a single survivor, and all of the assault transports had survived. The Rebel SD had been captured, and was being refitted to serve the Empire as he spoke. Chandler also brought up an interesting point about Red squadron. It had turned out that Red 1 was just an FM who had been designated number "1" as a ruse by the real squadron commander. The CMDR of Red squadron had, in fact, been the ace who had given Freelancer so much trouble: Red 10.

"But you're probably wondering what happened to Freelancer after he returned home," Chandler rightly noted. "Would you care to explain, BG ?"

"Yes, sir," Freelancer answered. "After docking with the SSSD Sovereign, I arrived in RA Chandler's office to give him an idea of what was happening in the battle zone. I told him about the Star Destroyer, the Carrack cruisers, and the X-wing squadron which had given us trouble. Chandler thought it was strange that the Star Destroyer was guarded by two capital ships, yet only one starfighter squadron. He then compared the battle report I'd quickly given him with his Intel files; it also turned out Intel hadn't said anything about Carrack cruisers.

"The more Chandler checked his files, the more the Rebel disposition in the mission I'd just returned from looked different from what it was supposed to be. When I told Chandler about the Carrack cruiser which had launched A-wings, our WC started thinking Intel might deliberately have been fed false information to lure Nun Squadron into a trap. That's because, you see, with all the recent Imperial victories in the Minos Cluster, A-wings were becoming sparse, and to have a flight of them aboard a bottom-of-the-line ship like a Carrack meant something was definitely amiss.

"Chandler and I took the matter to Admiral Kramer. He agreed that Nun had stumbled into a trap, and needed reinforcements fast, especially with only one TIE Defender left. So he asked Chandler whether he would be ready to send Wing V to help. Chandler said yes, and was ready to call his squadrons, when Admiral Kramer asked him why the rest of Nun Squadron hadn't simply hyperspaced back to the Sovereign if it was a trap. I then suggested that your hyperdrives might have been damaged. Admiral Kramer rejected that possibility, but then suggested that they might have been inhibited by an Interdictor. If that was the case, Nun Squadron was definitely in serious, immediate, danger.

"Kramer, Chandler, and I weren't ready to accept a threat to Nun Squadron. Kramer went to the Fleet Commander and asked him if the Sovereign could enter the battle zone earlier than expected. Grand Admiral Ronin, who was planning on inspecting the Star Destroyer only once the battle zone was declared secure, was taken aback by the request, but finally accepted. We were invited to stay on the bridge, since we had the best idea of how the battle was going, and the Sovereign set sail for the Minos cluster. The rest is history."

Chandler added a few words, and finally said: "That is all. Any questions or comments ?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is it, Harkonnen ?"

"You people on the Sov saved my skin. I owe you a hell of a lot, guys. And I'd like to propose a toast," I said, raising my glass. I stood up, and called out to everyone in the Cantina: "Ladies and gentlemen, your atten-shun please !"

The raucous noise in the Cantina died down rapidly. That was one of the major perks of being a Lieutenant General in command of a squadron: my rank meant that, when I called for attention, people actually listened to me. Unlike the Officers' Deck, where line officers were generally not admitted without an invitation, down in the Cantina, a CMDR/LG could rule.

"I'd like to propose a toast to the ship with the most kick-ass gun in the galaxy ! To the ship which will restore glory to the Empire ! To the ship with the finest pilots and officers who ever lived ! TO THE SSSD SOVEREIGN !"

There was a widespread roar of approval in the cantina, which grew to unprecedented loudness as I downed my triple vodka in one gulp.

"Damn you, Harkonnen," Chandler said. "I wanted to do that."

THE END

P.S.: This story took place before FM's Baron Fel, Maniac, Gabriel, and Chris joined the Squadron, and before GN Cuptoman and GN Bob-Fett left.

Inferno in the Night

Part 1

By Brigadier General David Torres

dgdunn@bigpond.com

CMDR/BG Torres/Inferno 1-1/Wing X/ISD Challenge, Gren.

FL/GN Torres/Vulture 2-1/Wing II/MC-90 Bismarck/IW/EH

ISM,ISM/MoT/{IWATS}/{MoC -BoC, BoC}/{MoI}

GRD(Sith)/Gladius of Tarentum

1. The Keepers of Souls

"Watch yourself, Zen, three X-Wings on your tail." That warning came as I lined my sights on a pirate A-Wing that had been attacking the convoy we were protecting. "Acknowledged. Situation under control." Going into a spin, I followed the A-Wing as it went into a dive. BOOM!!!! One ex-A-Wing, now top-grade scrap. As a small thrill of triumph over the A-Wing went through me, my TIE Defender shock slightly as one of the X-Wings scored a hit. Turning to the left I saw that one X-Wing was being attacked by GN Shard, a fellow flight member of Inferno Squadron. As I turned, the two X-Wings split, one heading away from and another heading straight into my path. Quickly firing, four beams of destructive laser lashed out at the X-Wing, reducing it's shields. Pulling out of my turn, I lined up and blind-fired an advanced concussion missile at the X-Wing, destroying it completely. Shuddering my way through the debris, I headed off to give the third X-Wing a deadly lesson in team work.

"Inferno leader to all ships, the convoy's made it into hyper-space so wrap up any fun you're having and head back to the Challenger."

"You got it, boss. Just got...there! One less X-Wing." Shard finished off his opponent and began his run to light-speed.

"Yes sir, well do after Inferno 2 is alright." LT Lawnmower lined his fighter along side mine as I waited for the missile lock to red. "PING!!!" Firing the missile, I watched it as the X-Wing tried to out-maneuver through a number of twists and turns. Several hits from both me and Lawnmower saw this attempt fail as the missile destroyed the fighter.

"2 here, making jump to light-speed. All pirate fighters destroyed."

"3 here, entering hyper-space now."

"4 here, entering run into hyper-space."

"Ok, 2, entering hyper-space now, see back at base."

Acessing the nav-computer, I lined up for my jump to hyper-space watching the large freights streak away, followed shortly by three powerful TIE Defenders of Inferno Squadron. A few seconds later, my fighter blasted it's way to hyper-space, leaving only debris as a sign of the pirate's attempt to captured the convoy.

Leaving hyper-space, I quickly located the ISD Challenge and flew off towards, joining the eight other TIE Defenders of the returning Inferno Squadron. Slowly making her way through space, the Challenge was one of several Imperial-class Star Destroyers which made up the Emperor's Hammer. Not as organic-looking as a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser or a Zentradi Battleship, the very shape of the ship had a strange beauty all of it's own,a way of proclaiming "Everyone shove over, I'm coming through." And in a way that's what happened when ever an ISD appeared, everyone got out of it's way or risked being blown out of the sky.

"Inferno Squadron Leader to Flight Control, request permission to dock."

"Flight Control to Inferno Leader, you are cleared to dock. The Admiral requests the outcome of the mission."

"Mission a complete success, Control. No losses, all targets destroyed. The convoy made it out."

"Acknowledged Inferno Leader, Admiral sends 'well done'. Also you'll like to know that Thunder Squadron has returned from shore leave at Aurora and will take up their duties now. GN Omega sends his thanks."

"Tell GN Omega he owes us a couple of rounds on Daedalus. Also tell GN Outlaw to have his flight ready for action, the rest of us will be resting."

"Will do Inferno Leader."

"Ok everyone, we're cleared to dock."

"Roger."

After landing my fighter, I quickly joined the other pilots of the escort group and headed off to the briefing room. Waiting there was Lieutenant General Stretch, Wing Commander of the ISD Challenge, along with General Steve, Commander of Typhoon Squadron. Sitting down next to General Manitsas, Flight 2's leader, I whispered to him "What's Steve doing here?" "Don't know, but you can bet it'll probably mean we're going on another mission." "Probably." As General Boussh, Inferno's Commander, walked into the room and onto the platform, silence descended.

"Ok Soul Keepers. Great job on the convoy, our representative in Narcona is still waiting for it's arrival. We're still puzzled as to how the pirates knew where to strike while Thunder Squadron was on shore leave, but that doesn't concern you."

Pressing a button on the wall, LG Stretch brought up a 3D map of the Setii System.

"As you can see, the Setii System is located at the edge of EH space. For the past week or so, there has been a number of unknown craft violating the system's perimeter. With the most of the fleet busy on patrol and deep strikes against the Rebels in the Minos Cluster, it become evident that in order to stop these incursions, the Auroran Home Guard would have to be used. However, General Boussh has volunteered Inferno squadron for this job. But I have decided that Thunder and Typhoon Squadrons will combine to deal with this threat. Your job will be to escort a high ranking envoy from Fleet Admiral Blake, the Fleet's Secruity Officer, to Grand Moff Angel Raptor who is currently in the Phare System."

Stepping down from the podium LG Stretch gestured General Boussh forward.

"Here are the deployments. Flight 3 will remain on patrol here in the Aurora System. Flight 2 will be the reserve for the mission in the Setii Sysem with myself leading. Flight 1, minus myself, will escort the envoy. General Torres will escort leader and will be flying an escort shuttle with the envoy onboard. Flight 2 will depart in four hours, Flight 1 in two hours. Be ready by then. That is all. Dismissed."

With that, we all stood up and saluted as LG Stretch and GNs Boussh and Steve walked out of the room. Gathering my things, I waited for Manitsas to get ready. "How come we get everyone else's assignments?"

"I sure as hell don't know. And probably won't. Oh well, we go where we're told and bugger it if we don't like it."

"Yeah, got that right. Where you off to now?"

"I'm going to grab a shower, something to eat, and maybe some rest. You?"

"Get shower and some food. Haven't got enough time to sleep before I depart."

"Well I'll see you when you get back."

"Yeah, have fun at Setii."

"I wish."

Heading off to my quarters, I went past the med-center where wounded were coming in. Curious, I looked in and saw the insigna of several of the wounded was of that of Dagger Squadron. Puzzled, I went on my way, still curious about the presence of members of Dagger Squadron, a squadron which not surpisingly specialised in escorting but was also stationed on the ISD Relentless, ISD Challenge's sister ship in Battle Group II.

Arriving at my quarters, I entered and notice that someone had sent me an a letter. Curious, I opened it to find that Susan, a Krath Protector in the Dark Brotherhood and my aide, had sent it.

"I heard that Inferno Squadron has been picked to escort FA Blake's envoy. Did some digging around to find out why one of the escort squads weren't choosen. Apparantly only Thunder and Dagger were avaliable for the mission. Thunder, as you probably know by now, has been picked for another assignment. So I checked on Dagger and it seems that they did get the mission except that it was ambushed by unknown forces. There's no info on the attackers' numbers or what type of ships they were using, only that place of the attack indicates that an Interdictor was used and you can't get those at the local corner shop. I contacted a few people I know in Intell and all they could tell me about the envoy's mission is that involved the Directorate. I'm still waiting to hear from my contacts in the Directorate and I've contacted a few members of the Dark Brotherhood who are serving on the Relentless about Dagger. I've got no firm info on what this 'cakewalk' escort is really all about, but what I can tell you is that you should expect trouble. Keep an eye open and watch your back when you're with that envoy. Well congrats on the convoy job, Soul Keeper. I'll contact you when I've got more to report. Susan out."

2. The Darkest Envoy

Concerned about Susan's message, I pondered what kind of trouble the squad could get into on this mission. Quickly having a shower, I got dressed in a fresh flight-suit and headed off to the main mess hall. Walking through the corridors, I bumped into GN Shard, a fellow Inferno pilot. I didn't really like Shard, he was too ambitious for my taste and he didn't like me because I was positioned higher then him. I expected the fact that I was in charge of the escort duty to really get to him, but for some reason he was cheerful which made me very suspicion.

"So I hear there's some nice spots in the Phare System."

"Don't know, haven't been there yet."

"Well I've been there before and there was this really beautiful dancer at one of the clubs. Man she was absolutely amazing and ......"

'Oh great,' I thought, 'here he goes again. On and one and on about some dancer who probably told him to take a hike and never come back.'

As I blocked out Shard's voice, I noticed GN Outlaw was arguing with CPT Redwing. Knowing Shard wouldn't miss me if I left him (the guy could bore the dead if he wanted to), I quietly walked over to Outlaw who was pointing, no make that stabbing, at a datapad in his hand.

"You really expect this type of crap to get you through the IWATS???? Go back and do it again and this time, Redwing, do it right!!!"

"Yes sir."

Saluting to Outlaw, Redwing took back the datapad and went off to his quarters.

"Hey Outlaw."

"Oh hi Torres. Nice job on the convoy."

"Thanks. Problem with Redwing?"

"Oh the kid's getting ready for IWATS exam and he asked me to give him a hand."

"Think he'll graduate?"

"Yeah, just needs to polish up a few things like his report writing."

"Redwing needs to polish up his report writing??? Look whose talking."

Outlaw's ability, or lack thereof, in writing reports was legendary throughout the Emperor's Hammer.

"Yeah well if he graduates he'll make one hell of a squadron commander someday."

"Yeah. Anyway aren't you suppose to be on patrol on?"

"Suppose to be, still waiting for Oirad to be cleared by the medics. Had a touch of the flu or so he said. Heard you got the escort duty."

"Yeah, a real bummer. Oh well better be off and grab some chow. Hope Oirad is feeling better. See ya when I get back."

"Ok Torres, good luck with the escort. See ya."

Entering the mess hall, I saw that it was rather quiet. Usually it's over-crowded with everyone trying to talk at the same time, but today only the members of Inferno Squadron were there. Curious, I got some grabbed some food and went over to where the others were sitting.

Sitting down and listening to the others talk about what tricks they had played on their fellow crew-mates and pilots, I started to drift off.

As always whenever I drift off, I start thinking about the past, my life in the RDF, the two years spent of the SDF-1 returning to Earth while being constantly attacked by the Zentradi, of my friends, and of my family, especially Azonia. The second woman I ever fell in love with and married just prior to my departure from Earth over 40 years. I can still remember with clear precision the day we first meet, nearly 50 years ago (geezzz am I really that old? Ahh not in RL, but get on with the story.)....

3. The Past Unveiled - Part 1

....."The Micronian seems to be waking up, Commander."

"Very good, have him brought to me at once,"

"Yes, sir."

'Oh my aching head. Where am I?' Slowly I opened my eyes and looked around to see where I was. As soon as I moved my head, a searing pain erupted throughout my body and I quickly went still.

'Ok, at least I'm not dead, that's good...I think.'

While I was pondering where I am and what the hell had happened, I felt the floor start to move. Slowly and carefully, I lifted my head and saw that I was on a bio-bed, an advanced form of a hospital trolley, something which wouldn't alarm many people, if they overlooked the fact that the bio-bed was atleast 10 times their height in length. This single fact told me where I was, aboard a Zentradi warship, probably a battlecruise or, knowing my luck, a battleship. As I looked around, I remembered a few things from the debriefing that Lieutenant Commander Lisa Hayes, Lieutenant Rick Hunter, and the survivors of Vermillion Squadron had said about their experience while beening held prisoner by the Zentradi. As I was going through what I remembered of the de-briefing in my mind, I noticed that we had entered a turbo-lift and were heading up, probably to the command center or the bridge. A few minutes later, the lift stopped and the doors parted, revealing an enormous observation bubble which was overlooking what appeared to be the ship's main bridge. Standing by herself was a tall, blue haired woman who was dress in body-length blue cape and a red uniform-styled suit.

"Here is the Micronian, Command."

For the first time, I noticed the Zentradi soldier which had been pushing the bio-bed.

"Very good, you can leave the trans-pad here and return to your station."

"At once, Commander."

With that, the Zentradi soldier saluted and left, leaving me alone with the commander. Since my first look at her was a quick glimpse before I looked at the bridge, I now looked at her more closely, although I doubted that she could tell I was looking at her rather closely given the difference between our heights.

"Well, Micronian, it seems you present a puzzle to us. I am Commander Azonia Torres, commander of the Zentradi Imperial Fleet's Queleual Attack Wing."

"Commander David Gloval of the Robotech Defense Force and commander of Dragon Squadron,

SDF-1."

"According to our scans of you, Micronian,...."

"Excuse me, Zentradi, but I do have a rank and name by which you can refer to me."

"AND you shall address me as Commander or I will have you executed!"

"Fine, do that (I'm crazy, I know)."

As the two of us locked eyes (sort-of anyway), I thought I saw a glimmer of respect in Azonia's eyes for this tiny creature who nevertheless demanded the respect owed to an officer.

"As I was saying, Commander Micronian (Azonia had NO sense of humor then), our scans of you have shown that you are only partially human."

"Only partially human???? What else am I? Partially dead and partially dumb??"

For a minute, Azonia looked puzzled as she tried to figure out what I was saying. After a few minute, she shrugged and answered my question.

"You are also Zentradi."

You could have flown a galaxy through my mouth when it dropped after I heard Azonia's answer. "Half human and half Zentradi???? That can't be, it's impossible!!!!"......

"Yoo David, you awake there?"

As I returned to the present, I found myself being shaken by Lawnmower.

"Hey come on, we've got a mission to do."

"Ok Lawnmower, I'm awake, be with you in a sec."

Nodding back, Lawnmower got up and left the mess hall, while I quietly gathered my thoughts and firmly thrusted the past back where it belonged. Gathering my coat, I got up and went off the mission briefing.

4. The Cakewalk Mission - The Briefing

Entering the briefing room, I found that the other members of Flight I had already arrived. Sitting next to Shard, I looked around to see if anyone was going to take GN Boussh's place.

"Any idea whose taking the old man's place?"

"All I heard was that some hotshot pilot from Sword Squadron was coming over."

"Sword Squadron?? What's going these days? Squadron assignments getting mixed up, we getting everyone else's jobs and people getting moved about like chess pieces."

"Chess?"

"It's a game back on my home planet, forget about it."

"Well all I can say is that this pilot had better be good at his job or I'm going to puke."

"Shard, you said you'd puke if the old man got a posting in the NL."

"And you point is?

"Well he got a posting in the NL and you owe us a puke, though don't do it here ok? Ruins the carpet."

"Ok I'll just do it in the food recycling system."

"On second thought, just forget about it ok?"

"Sure thing, oh here comes the old man."

Sure enough, GN Boussh walked into the briefing room, followed by the replacement pilot from Sword Squadron. For a second I simply glanced at the pilot then back to Boussh, and then wiped my gaze back to the pilot. A woman! And a pretty good-looking one at that, if I wasn't married I'd probably consider asking her out to dinner....hell I'd still consider asking her out to dinner. I looked back at Shard and knew we had a disaster just waiting to happen, 'cause when it comes to women, Shard sees them as two things a) targets for his fighter and b) targets for his bed. Sighing sofly, I decided to introduce myself and got up.

"Hi General David Torres, welcome aboard."

"Hi General Risua Darkfire of Sword Squadron."

As we shook hands, I was, for a minute, entranced by her looks. Clearing my head, I introduced her to other pilots, GN Shard and LT Lawnmower. After that, we both sat down, with me between Darkfire and Shard (it seems she had managed to figure out what kind of person Shard was.)

"Well now that everyone knows everyone else, let get down to business. Your primary mission will be to deliever FA Blake's envoy to Grand Moff Angel Raptor in the Phare System. She is currently inspecting the Directorate's facilities in the Phare System and is being transported by the Modified Frigate Ardent. Now, Torres, you will pilot the escort shuttle with the envoy onaboard and dock with the Ardent. While the envoy with the Grand Moff, you will remain in the shuttle while the rest of the flight will patrol around the ship. There will be on squadron of TIE Advanced fighters from the IWATS on hand and the Ardent's on squadrons will be on reserve if needed. Once the envoy has returned, you will then leave the Ardent and head back to Aurora where the Relentless will be waiting for you. Once aboard, the Relentless will then travel through hyperspace and join the Challenge in the Setii System."

"Can we expect any encounters with hostile forces?"

"None that we can see, however, we have seen a small pirate gang near EH space, 'gathing his notes, GN Boussh dismissed us.

"All pilots, we hit space in forty mikes. Be ready."

And with that, we all left the briefing room.

Leaving the briefing room, I instructed Lawnmower to escort Darkfire to the squadron's ready room while I made a quick visit to my quarters. Quickly walking through the corridors, I entered my quarters and wrote a short message to Protector Susan.

"Susan, I'm about the leave for the escort mission. I want you to check out what pirate gangs are in the area and what strength they're in. If you find anything send it straight it to me, I'll be on the escort shuttle Tapr. Torres out."

5. The Cakewalk Mission - The Mission - Part 1

Leaving my quarters, I went to the ready room and quickly got suited up for the mission. Entering the main bay, I looked around to find the escort shuttle I was suppose to fly. I noticed the activity surrounding the fighter belonging to Thunder and Typhoon squadrons in one part of the deck, but as I was scanning, I felt a presence behind. I turned around to see a fairly tall dark-cloaked figure standing before me.

"You Torres?"

"I'm General David Torres, yes."

"Good, the escort shuttle you will pilot is over here."

Walking along side the envoy, I noticed that the others were already climbing into their fighters. As we approached the shuttle, I could barely stop myself from groaning in horror. The escort shuttle I was going to fly was an absolute wreack...it would be a miracle if the engines worked at all, let alone fly out of the bay. I knew that the Challenge was short on supplies in some areas, but this was ridiculous. It looked like even touching it would cause it to collapse in a pile.

"Alright Torres, get your lazy pilot backside over here. NOW!"

'This guy is really asking for it.' I thought as I approached the shuttle and entered it. Inside it seemed pretty modern, but one look at the nav computer and I groaned. It was an old 500-X model and the only thing older than this was probably the stars themselves. I'll probable have to do the navigation calculations on a pad and it will probably be faster than the computer. Sitting down, I strapped myself in and started to tick off the pre-launch check list. Engines-check, life support-check, weapons-check, sensors-check, communications-iffy(bang!)nope check, in-flight entertainment-in your dreams pal!

"Escort shuttle to escort flight."

"Escort leader here."

"Ok, Shard, this pile of junk checks out. All pilots, check off."

"Lawnmower, everything in the green, sir."

"Darkfire, ready to rock 'n roll."

"Ok, we'll launch on my mark. Flight Control, this Escort Shuttle Tapr requesting permission to depart."

"Escort Shuttle Tapr, this Flight Control. You are cleared to depart, your system exist course is 210° mark 5. Good flight guys."

"Roger that Flight Control. Escort shuttle to escort flight, system exist course is 210° mark 5. Launch."

With that, the three TIE Defenders speed their way out of the hanger bay with the escort shuttle close behind.

"Ok people, lock in course and prepare to go to hyper."

"Roger."

"Acknowledged sir."

"Coordinates for Phare system are locked into the shuttle's flight computers. Three minutes to threshold. Stay in formation."

Turning around, I saw that the envoy was too busy throwing up. 'Space sickness', I shock my head in wonder and turned back, 'how on earth could anyone who gets it wind up in space?' Looking down, I saw that we had just passed the threshold.

"Link nav computers. Computer linked, activating hyper-engine."

Pulling on the lever, I sat back and watched as the stars began to turn into streaks of light and then disappear as a tunnel of twisting light appeared.

Escort Shuttle Tapr entering hyper-space.

One hour after departing Aurora, I noticed that the envoy had managed to fall to sleep. Glancing at the monitors, I saw that all TIE Defenders were still in formation, although I did see a lot of communication between Shard and Darkfire. At first I was tempted to quietly listen in, but then Darkfire broadcasted to the entire flight.

"You so much as touch me and I'll make sure that not only do you NOT become a father, but I'll make sure that you are assigned to waste recycling in an outpost in the Hutt sector!!!!"

"Oh yeah....."

"Shard, shut up."

"But Torres...."

"I said shut up!!!! Now I don't know what you said to Darkfire and I really don't care what you did say, but whatever it was, you deserved her responce. So shut up and keep your eyes open...clear????"

"Aye sir."

"Darkfire?"

"Roger, Torres."

Switching off the comm-link, I sighed and thought 'this is going to be one long flight.' Closing my eyes, I started to drift and my thoughts went back to the past.

6. The Past Unveiled - Part 2

......"Half human and half Zentradi???? That can't be, it's impossible!!!! There is no way that can be!!!"

"I agree, Micronian(I let that one go), but our bio-scans indicate otherwise."

"You sure your scanner isn't playing up or malfunctioning?"

"Absolutely."

"So, now are you going to execute me anyway?"

"No, Commander Breetai has arranged a truce with your Captain Gloval."

"Oh?"

For the next two or so minutes, we starred at each other and then Azonia broke the silence.

"Our forces here are dangerously low on Protoculture and with the Grand Fleet under Dolza coming here, I can see little chance of any of us surviving."

"I've heard that before and I survived. Can't see why it should change now. Ahhh, what's Protoculture?"

"Protoculture is the fuel which powers all Robotech devices."

"And you believe that the SDF-1 contains some kind of Protoculture-production planet?"

"The battlefortress holds the Matrix from which all Protoculture derives. In essence, Micronian, you are correct."

"Look, I've explored as much of the ship as any one person can and I haven't found anything which would produce anything Earth's scientists couldn't identify."

"Our plans show that the Matrix is located in the fold generator."

'Oh no, now we're really in trouble. Not only is the Grand Fleet (whatever that is) on it's way, but the main reason the Zentradi have pursued us for two years disappeared two years ago.'

"Ahhhh, we've got a small problem."

"What do you mean, Micronian?"

"Well when your forces attacked us two years ago, Captain Gloval was forced to initiate a fold system within the atmosphere..."

"That's crazy!! No ship can initiate a fold jump in a planet's atmosphere!"

"Well we did and we missed our target zone (by half a system). Once we had finished destroying the remaining Zentradi pods, we found out that the fold generator had disappeared."

"What?????"

"Disappeared as in vanished into thin air."

Starring at me with disbelief, Azonia sat down quietly, her face clearly shocked. After a few minutes, I cleared my throat.

"Commander, I was wondering what is the Grand Fleet?"

Still shocked about the revelation on the fold generator, Azonia didn't seem to hear for a sec and then she looked at me.

"The Grand Fleet is the main fleet of Zentradi. It is always stationed near Dolza's command station. In your terms, it would be around 5 million ships in total."

"5 million????"(That's 5 with 6 0s, 5000000...that's for you Yacko :))

"5 million under the command of Dolza, supreme leader of all Zentradi."

"You're right, we're screwed."

"Screwed??"

"In trouble."

"Oh, in that case, we are."

"So do we fight?"

"Of course we fight and we die."

"But we'll make sure that when we die, we'll take some of those b*****ds with us."

"That is fact."

"Commander David Gloval."

"Hmmm??"

"Commander David Gloval, that's my name and rank."

"It will be a pleasure and an honour fighting beside you, Commander David."

"And with you, Commander Azonia."

Nodding to each other, neither of us knew that in the near future we would be taking on the battle fleet of the greatest foe both of our species had ever faced, the Invid. But at the moment, all we were worried about was the up-coming battle with Dolza and the Grand Fleet. And the only thought was in my mind was 'We're going to have guests.'......

7. The Cakewalk Mission - The Mission - Part 1

All of a sudden, the shuttle started shudder and then violently shuddered as it went through hyper-space in lurchs. Then, we dropped back into normal space as the computer automatically deactivated the hyper-drive. Concerned, I quickly checked and saw that all three TIE Defenders had returned safely back into normal space. I then checked the other monitors and saw that the reason why the flight had been dragged back into normal space was because of a gravity well.

"Ahh Torres this Darkfire, my sensors show a gravity well in this area."

"So do mine, Darkfire."

"Shard here. Torres, the route between Aurora and the Phare System has NO gravity wells on or near it, it's a clear route."

"Then....hang on, I'm picking up something. Oh ****, I've found out the reason for the gravity well."

"Where....oh I see it now."

"Oh just great, just great. A bloody Interdictor!"

"Lawnmower here, what are your orders, Torres?"

"Give me a minute and I'll find the edge of the well."

"Ahh, Torres, you don't have a minute."

"Oh whys that, Darkfire?"

"Sensors are showing a large force coming our way."

"Shard here, my show the same."

"Got 'em. Keep any eye on them, almost got location of the well's edge."

"Ok, but hurry up."

"One more sec...got it!!! We're exactly 5.2 klicks from the edge. Plot a new course, Shard."

"Plotting....ok sending it to all ships."

"Got it."

"It's here."

"Ok, everyone let's get moving. Command will want to know about this Interdictor."

Quickly, we followed Shard's plot to the edge of the gravity well. We had been going for around a minute when the sensors went crazy.

"BLEEEPP!!!!!!! BLEEEPP!!!!!!! BLEEEPP!!!!!!! BLEEEPP!!!!!!! BLEEEPP!!!!!!! BLEEEPP!!!!!!!"

"Uhhh ohhh. We've got company."

Looking out of my cockpit, I saw one, no two, no three, no ten VSDs come out of hyper-space, along with six escort carriers, all aiming straight at us.

"Whoooa, that's alot of firepower."

"No kidding, Shard. Now what Torres?"

"We keep going."

"Lawnmower here, they're launching fighters."

Sure enough all the ships, including the Interdictor, were launching their fighter. Squadron after squadron after squadron appeared from the flight bays. Eventually, no more fighter appeared.

"Ahh could someone get me a count on those fighters?"

"Shard here, working on it. Ok we've got over five hundred fighters of all types coming straight at us, that's around 45 squadrons."

GNs Risua Darkfire's and David Torres's responce to GN Shard's count.

Continued in Inferno in the Night - Part 2

The first sound is copyrighted to LucasFilms, 1977 (I think).

The second sound is copyrighted to Warner Brothers, 1996(I'm sure, almost).

(P.S. - Don't let VA Orion see her pic! :-))

Survival:

It was just his luck. As CM Thorin Orlos dove onto the tail of another rebel Z-95, he cursed at the odds of

his Battle Group being infected with a vicious disease and a Rebel strike force staging an

attack on Delta Base. As he pondered the possibility of a set-up, he fired upon the weak-shielded craft

in front of him. The green bolts lanced out from his fighter and penetrated the engines of the rebel

ship, causing a wry smirk to creep onto Thorin's face as the Z-95 imploded and fire engulfed the cockpit.

After manuvering through the debris of his recent victory, Thorin scanned the area to get an overview of the

situation. The original strike force had consisted of two squadrons of Z-95s, 2 squadrons of T-wings and 1 squadron

of X-wings, which had entered about 5 minutes into the battle, 5 minutes too late. They didn't stand a chance from

the start. 3 Squadron's of Tie Defenders, including the legendary Mu Squadron, 1 squad of TIE Interceptors and numerous ground

defence batteries greeted them. However, this was less than half of their normal defence force. The rest was grounded with a mysterious disease

which had broken out a couple of hours before the failed attack. The rebels had obviously mis-timed the attack, hoping the imperials to put up less of a fight than they were.

As his squad mates finished off the remainder of the fleeing Rebels,

Thorin keyed his comm for a status report. Mu 3 replied:

"The rebels are heading out to Vagran, sir. We came off pretty well today, considering this virus thing"

"I guess so" said Thorin, with a hint of fatigue in his voice. "Still, the casualties we acquired today were unnecessary ones"

Thorin had described the losses as "Unnecessary" because most of them were not due to the rebels, but because the pilots were infected with a mysterious illness

and had lapsed into unconsciousness during the battle. Thorin, judging by the skill of the dead pilots, estimated that they had lost

10 of the 12 deceased pilots to the virus rather than the enemy. This disturbed him a great deal.

"Mu Squadron, leave the stragglers for Nu squadron and form up in your groups. Head back to base, but remain inside your fighters until

further notice. We can't risk the fact that the virus may be airborne".

A list of acknowledgements scrolled onto his screen as he veered onto a docking vector with the hanger. He sighed loudly. He had a feeling his day was

about to get a lot worse.

And, of course, it did.

Once the 10 remaining Mu squadron members had returned to the hanger, Thorin gave the order to exit their ships but remain in their vacuum suits.

In unison, the elite pilots of the empire popped their cockpit hatch open and emerged into the deserted hanger, the silence only broken by the metallic sound

of pilot boots against descent ladders. CM Thorin activated his personal comm and set it on the correct frequency.

"Mu leader to Delta command, Mu leader to Delta command, are you receiving over"

"Affirmative Mu leader, glad to have you back" replied a strained voice. "Almost everyone is in sick bay, with a few maintaining their positions and

the rest in quarantine".

"Copy that, we're on our way to sick bay to do what we can. Mu leader out"

At that, Thorin led his pilots from the hanger and into the base.

As Mu Squadron marched down the underground corridors of the base, they were passed by many personnel who, judging by their symptoms, were suffering from different

stages of the disease. Thorin observed that the majority of sick that passed him had a yellow hue to them, and were continuously retching. The severity of the odd colouring

seemed to coincide with how unpleasant their retching was. Some of the other symptoms were, he soon discovered, a lot more disturbing.

The sight which greeted him as Thorin entered the Med-center was not exactly a pretty one. For a start, a putrid smell of vomit mixed in with the sour taste and smell of used

bacta. The tanks in the centre were all occupied, as were all the beds and stations, with the rest of the sick leaned up against walls or sprawled in a state on the floor.

As the pilots proceeded into the room, they were waved over by Dr. Sslither, currently serving on the ISD Colossus. It was fortune that a man of his experience was present in this time of sickness.

"Kind makes you wish you'd skipped breakfast, huh" said the medical officer as he walked up to the commander.

"I did, I had to go play "Kill us before you puke to death' with some rebel strike force" replied the pilot

"Lucky you" said the doctor, his smile slowly disappearing from his face after he finished his remark.

"The situation here is pretty dire, as you can see" explained the doctor, his hands gesturing to the ugly scene behind him. "We estimate that 75% of the base personnel have been contaminated and are unfit to implement their duties. The remaining 25% are gonna have a hard time maintaining and protecting the base until Colossus is recalled from her mission"

"How long will that be" asked Mu 3 from behind Thorin.

"We have contacted COM O' Flynn and he estimates that they will be able to return in 2-3 days. Till then, we'll just have to do what we can"

"What about the disease, what do we know about it" questioned Thorin.

"We have researched the symptoms and discovered it is a strain of a biological disease created to end the stale-mate situation in a siege. The disease is not actually fatal itself, it is meant to reduce the victims abilities so they do not resist when challenged. The disease is extremely contagious and can be transmitted via absorption, physical contact and infected air intake. The period of infection is very short as well".

"What about the effects and symptoms, we've seen a number of stages" said CM Orlos.

"Yes, the severity of the disease depends on how many hosts the disease has infected and how long the disease has plagued the victim".

Dr. Sslither led the pilots over to one side of the room where, behind a transparisteel sheet, 3 separate hosts were being treated. The doctor pointed to the first bed.

"This is the first stage, with an infection period of 15-30 minutes. The host has extreme swelling of many glands, including the thyroid, which is causing breathing problems with some victims. The host is also dis-coloured, a faint yellow, which we associate with the infection of the liver which the disease causes. Other effects include frequent vomiting, catarrh-rich coughing and a variety of digestive-system problems, which I'm sure I don't have to explain".

Dr Sslither's remark was punctuated by the sound of Mu 7 emptying his stomach. By the looks of it, he'd managed to have a quick bite to eat before entering battle. Dr Sslither ignored the pilot's heaving and moved on.

"The second and third stages are just more violent strains of the first. However, as you can see, the third stage has a rather distinctive symptom"

Curiously, Thorin peered into the room and saw the sick man strapped to the bed, which was subsequently bolted to the floor. The man inside was convulsing violently, jerking in positions that certainly weren't healthy in any way whatsoever. The white foam gathering in the man's mouth quickly amounted and began flying around the room every time the man spluttered or went into spasm. Grimacing, Thorin turned away from the view-port.

"How long is the incubation period in-between the stages" asked Thorin.

Sslither mulled over this for a while then answered. "Around 15-30 minutes in most cases for initial contraction of the disease, with a further 30 minutes for progression to the next stage"

As he took into account all the information just displayed to him, an officer ran up to the ensemble of pilots, wheezing heavily, though Thorin suspected this was not due to the disease, just to the fact he was unfit.

"Commander, a second rebel strike force has been detected in hyperspace heading for our destination" gasped the overweight officer.

"What kind of size is this force" asked Thorin.

"We detect 4 Corvette-class capital ships…..

"That's not too bad" said Mu 3, his tinny voice cutting in.

"……and 2 Mon-Cal class cruisers. We suspect a minimum of 5 squadrons of rebel fighters also." finished the officer.

Thorin sighed heavily. Why had he even bothered getting up today.

"Okay people, we need to act fast and hard if we're going to keep Delta Base from the Rebels.

Mu 2, I need a list of all remaining healthy personnel, repeat, ALL"

"Yes sir" replied his wingman"

"Mu 5,7, you remain here and help Dr Sslither with the sick here"

Mu 5 saluted while Mu 7 managed a feeble nod.

"Mu 3, 4, 9 and 12, you go and fly a defensive patrol around the base. I want constant reports every 10 minutes, even if nothing happens.

The 4 pilots quickly turned and marched in the direction of the hanger.

"10, 11, you two come with me. I have one of those mad plans which is so insane, it's bound to work!"

12 hours later, CM Orlos and his two squadron members entered the interrogation room for a second time. The two captured Rebel fighter pilots lay on their hard durasteel beds in separate cells, separated by a one-way mirror. Thorin had or originally attempted to gain more information by threatening to infect them with the virus. They denied him any information, so having had his bluff called, he infected them. He was surprised to see that the virus did not affect them in any way, and so came to the conclusion that they had been vaccinated against the virus in the event of accidental infection. A wise move, Thorin had to give that to the Rebels. However, the Rebels had not counted on him extracting that a sample of that vaccine and cloning it to treat the sick imperials. Thorin estimated that 2 thirds of the infected personnel would be recovered or recovering by the time ISD Colossus arrived. Things were definitely looking up. Now it was time to start Phase 2.

Thorin entered the first interrogation cell and stood over the Rebel officer.

"Well Lt. Farlander, you have been instrumental with the recuperation of imperial staff here, but you are still required for one more task" said Thorin, a smug grin on his face.

"Over my dead body" spat the rebel pilot

Thorin suddenly laughed and leant down so his face was parallel with Lt. Farlander's

"Only if you're lucky, my friend. Only if you're lucky".

With that, the interrogation droid floated in, slowly hovered into a position above the rebel pilot and injected him with a dose of tranquillisers. As the rebel Lt. lapsed into unconsciousness, he saw the large figures of Mu 10 and 11 enter the cell and drag his limp form to the ground.

Mu 3 breathed out another irritated sigh as he completed yet another standard alpha-diamond patrol in space, miles above Delta base. It was about time for another refuelling. Personally, he didn't see the point in patrolling. He could be more use down on the ground, supporting CM Orlos with phase 3, whatever that was, of his insane plan. He knew it had to be more fun than this. Clearing his throat, Mu 3 keyed the comm.

"Mu leader, Alpha patrol complete, heading back to base for a refuel" said the pilot

"Negative Mu 3" came the reply. "Inform your flight to shut down engines and all non-essential systems. Keep all combat systems on standby"

"Um, sir, are you sure. We'll be literally dead in space and we have a pretty big rebel strike …"

"Implement your orders now and everything will go to plan Mu 3" cut in the voice of his commander.

Mu 3 tried to get the anger out of his voice as he complied with his orders.

"Affirmative Mu leader, powering down" said Mu 3, restraining his sudden thought of mutiny.

"Good, the signal is 'If we're in range, then so are you'. You'll know what to do when the time comes. Until then, maintain radio silence. Mu leader out"

The rebel strike force entered 45 minutes later. The rebel corvettes Valiant, Lightning, Emancipator and Discovery entered the system first, followed by the MC-80 class cruisers Pride of Yavin and Kalidor. On board the Kalidor, Admiral Spee sat in the command chair and stared down at the blue-green planet beneath him. He suspected that the virus had not had it's desired effect, due to the loss of the original task force, and so he was here to take Delta base by good old brute force and superior numbers. As he studied the planet, his aide Lt. Craddock walked up beside him.

"Admiral, we detect a flight of Tie-defender class starfighters stranded in space" reported the young officer. "All systems with the exception of life-support have been powered down".

As the rebel admiral pondered ordering a flight of X-Wings out to destroy the imperial fighters, the comm station came alive.

"Admiral, we have an incoming message from Delta base" announced one of the comm officers. "Shall I put it on the screen sir"

"Please do" replied the Admiral. "They're obviously surrendering. Perhaps they have some sense after all"

As the view screen in front of the Admiral flared to life, a wide grin settled on his face. There, in front of him, was an officer in the flight suit of a rebel fighter pilot, complete with an oxygen rebreather which covered a large amount of his face.

"Greetings Admiral, glad you could make it" said the man on the screen, an echo added to his voice by the rebreather. "Fortunately for you, we've done most of the hard work".

The admiral narrowed his eyes and peered at the image on the screen in front of him.

"That's very reassuring, but who exactly are you, pilot" answered Admiral Spee.

"Lt. Farlander, Wasp Squadron. I was shot down and captured in the original attack, along with Flight Officer Karmap, and taken captive by the imperials. Luckily, the virus was taking effect and security was not exactly up to standards. We escaped and have secured all imperial personnel in the hanger and medical bays".

Admiral Spee frowned. His aide nodded, indicating the names had checked out, as did the uniform and identi-code the pilot was using, but something still nagged at him. "Why are you wearing a rebreather mask, all pilots were vaccinated"

"Well sir, a new strain of the virus has spawned and is now infecting the imperial staff" said the distant voice. "This new strain was created by the virus combining with an illness common to this planet. The result is a disease which is susceptible to infecting all those exposed to it. However, it can be avoided by wearing these modified re-breathers". The pilot tapped the contraption on his face.

The Rebel admiral arched one eyebrow and nodded. "Good work Lt. Farlander, I will come down to the surface to congratulate you personally".

"I look forward to your arrival, sir" replied the pilot, who then saluted as his image faded away.

Spee got up from the command chair and addressed his crew.

"Myself and Lt. Craddock, along with 4 squads of troopers, will go down to the planet's surface and liase with Lt Farlander and get an overview of the situation. 2 flights from Virgo squadron will fly cover throughout the inspection. If there is any trouble, Omega signal will be broadcast, at which point you will fire upon the base and any enemy forces sent against us. And keep an eye on those fighters".

At that, Admiral Spee and Lt. Craddock exited the bridge and entered the turbolift. As it descended down to the hanger, Admiral Spee uttered those much used words. "I have a very bad feeling about this".

Meanwhile, in the transmission room on Delta base, Mu 10 was being congratulated on his performance as a rebel fighter pilot.

"Good work Mu 10, very convincing. In fact, I was just about to pull out my blaster and shoot you" joked Thorin

Mu 11 came up along side the two squad members.

"Sir, we detect two Assault Transports heading towards the base" said the officer.

"Good" replied Thorin. "Prepare their rebreathers and get ready for some action. How many pilot-ready craft do we have, and how many pilots?"

"Mu 2 reports we have 2 squadrons of operational Tie Defenders, 3 operational Tie Interceptors and 2 modified escape shuttles. As far as pilots go, there's us ten Mu squadron members and 6 healthy base personnel who have some fighter experience".

Thorin nodded, considered his plan again, then turned to the two pilots.

"Right, here's what we do. Get the rest of Mu squadron to their ships, as well as the other 6. Prep the shuttles for launch , and get those virus canisters ready for the rebels. Mu 10, get ready to meet the Admiral, you know what to do. The last phase is now in operation".

The Assault Transports Antidote and Remedy slowly hovered down onto the landing platform on the starboard side of Delta Base. As the engines on the two craft shut down, ramps descended from the underbellies of the transports. The squads of rebel troopers exited the ships first, followed by Admiral Spee and Lt. Craddock from the Antidote. Apart from the new arrivals, the other occupant of the landing platform was the rebel pilot, Lt. Farlander, Admiral Spee had communicated with. The rebel admiral strode up to the pilot, who saluted. Spee returned the salute and shook the Lt. Farlander by the hand.

"Well done Lt. Farlander, you have handled the situation well. You will be commended for this"

"Thank you sir" replied the pilot, his face still partially hidden by the rebreather. "Flight Officer Karmap has been infected by the latest strain of the disease, which is why he is not able to join us. I have taken the liberty of modifying a batch of these ventilation masks to work as rebreathers. They must be worn to avoid contagion"

"I see you have prepared yourself for our needs, for which we are grateful" said the Admiral. "However, we have our own rebreathers which will work just as efficiently as yours. Shall we proceed into the base".

Lt. Farlander, aka Mu 10, grimaced under his mask. The plan had been to knock out the rebel ground troops by filling their masks with knockout gas, rendering them unconscious. Fortunately, Mu Squadron had prepared for such a possibility.

"Of course Admiral" said the pilot". "Please follow me and we can get this over with as fast as possible".

As the rebels and Mu 10 entered the base, two sniper bolts took out the two rebel guards by the transports. The bolts burned their way through the chests of the rebels, killing them instantly. As the dead guards hit the ground, two silhouetted forms emerged from a stack of crates on the far side of the platform.

"Mu leader, this is Mu 7, landing platform secured. Alpha plan is a no-go, reverting to Omega plan. Delivering package now".

"Message received and understood Mu 7, you have 5 minutes. Get to your fighters once package is in place, we don't want you to be late for the fireworks. Leader out".

With that, the two Mu squad members boarded the transports and left a couple of surprises for the unsuspecting Admiral.

The rebel commander and his trooper escort squads marched silently along one of the deep underground corridors of Delta base, led by Lt. Farlander, who was describing has 'ordeal'. Admiral Spee listened with half-interest as he tried to shrug the nagging voice in his mind, telling him he was forgetting or missing something.

"And now we are coming to the interrogation area where the base commander and various imperial personnel have been housed".

As the rebels entered the room, they were surprised to see a sea of blasters pointing straight at them. They had walked straight into the recuperation area of the med-lab. As Mu 10 dove to the ground and rolled out of the way, a volley of scarlet laser bolts flew straight at the rebel troopers. 10 rebels went down, among them Admiral Spee. As the organs in his body shut down and the rebel troopers retreated back to the landing platform, the Admiral managed one last act. Pulling the personal comm unit from his breast pocket, he transmitted Omega signal.

Lt. Craddock ran as fast as he could back towards the transports. Though the sick imperial troops were no match for the troopers, the element of surprise and a majority in numbers had worked against them. The Lt. ran up the boarding ramp and jumped into the pilot seat of the transport. He noticed the pilots were not present and came to the hasty conclusion that they had been ambushed also. Craddock quickly powered up all the transport's systems and set up a communication with the Kalidor.

"Task Force Omega, please confirm broadcast of Omega signal" said the voice over the comm

"Kalidor, this is Lt. Craddock, confirm. Omega signal has been broadcast. Launch fighters and fire upon the base".

"Lt. Craddock, we need confirmation from Ad…."
"Spee is dead, I'm in charge now" snapped Craddock". "Repeat, launch fighters and prepare to fire upon the base".

As the last of the troopers boarded the transports, Craddock initiated the repulsorlift engines and took of from the platform. The transports sensors indicated that fighters were being launched and the cruisers were manuvering into a position to cover them. The 5 squadrons of X-Wings were not prepared for the Mu Squadron ambush. The X-Wings were arming their proton torpedoes when the imperial signal was broadcast.

"IF WE'RE IN RANGE, THEN SO ARE YOU" shouted the voice over the comm.

Immediately, the forgotten, stranded Tie Defenders flared to life, their lasers playing over the incoming rebel fighters. Emerald bolts hit the unshielded rebel fighters, who in turn, tried to avoid the deadly bolts flying at them. The result was total annihilation of the squadron. In their efforts to avoid the lasers, they broke formation and plowed into one another.

"Ha-ha, pathetic rebels, is that the best you can do" shouted Mu 3, who emphasised his point by vaping the lead X-wing of the second wave of X-Wings.

As the 4 Tie Defenders used their surprise assault to their advantage, the rest of the fighters were launched into the heat of the battle.

"Good work Flight 2, they didn't stand a chance" said CM Orlos. "Pick your targets wisely and don't get sloppy. Happy hunting".

As the rebel and imperial starfighters immersed themselves in combat, the two imperial shuttles left the landing platform of Delta base. This caught the eye of Lt. Craddock. It had to be the command officers, knowing their plan was a brave but foolish one, fleeing to the safety of hyperspace. That had to be the answer, it just had to be. Craddock couldn't count the number of times he'd seen it in simulations. Well, the imperial commanders were not going to get away that easily under his command.

"Flight 1 and 2 from Leo squadron, inspect and attack those shuttles leaving the base"

"Sir, we're kinda tied up right now" reported the rebel flight leader.

"There are imperial commanders on those shuttles, they must not be allowed to escape. Destroy them now" commanded Lt. Craddock.

As the 2 flights from Leo squadron banked away from the combat zone, Lt. Craddock smiled to himself. Their losses had been heavy considering the size of the imperial defence force, and Admiral Spee had been killed, but ultimately, the rebels were bound to defeat the rebels. All he had to do was get back to the Kalidor and oversee the battle from there.

"Mu Leader, hard starboard"

Thorin yanked the stick hard to starboard, sending his ship away from the hastily fired laser bolts of a rebel X-Wing. He then looped to port and fell onto the tail of the fighter. Wasting no time, he calmly pressed the trigger and destroyed the over-confident pilot and his ship.

"Thanks Mu 3, good work" said Thorin.

"I was thinking about letting him vape you" replied Mu 3. "After all, you left me up here for 12 hours".

"Trust me, you didn't miss much" said Thorin. "I promise I'll repay you when we get out of this mess. Besides, the next bit's much more fun"

As the 8 X-Wings approached the shuttles, the flight leaders of Leo Squadron transmitted a warning.

"Fleeing shuttles, shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply with these orders will result in your destruction".

Slowly the shuttles slowed down. As the X-Wings neared the craft to inspect them, the shuttles exploded. The X-wings within a 1 klick radius of the two craft were engulfed by a massive fireball, consuming them completely. Only two of the rebel fighters remained.

Mu Squadron cheered as half a squadron of X-Wings went up in smoke. They were, slowly but surely, winning a battle in which they were outnumbered. The rebels had lost 3 squadrons worth of fighters. Mu Squadron had lost just 3 fighters, all of which had been base personnel.

"Mu 3, 5 and 10, form up on me. Arm your heavy torpedoes and link them for double fire. Mu 2, 11, cover us.

As the 3 Tie Defenders formed up on his wing, Thorin assigned targets to each of the pilots.

"3, you have the Lightning. 5, you have the Discovery. 10, you have the Emancipator, which leaves me with the Valiant. Prepare to fire on my order".

The 4 starfighters advanced towards the small capital ships. Thorin's HUD went yellow, then red, indicating a lock. Similar lock reports scrolled up his screen.

"I got one on my tail" cried Mu 5.

"Try and shake him 5" said Mu 10. "Jink and weave, jink and weave"

"He ain't movin, I'm gonna have to break off my run"

Just as 10 was about to bank away, the X-Wing exploded into a scarlet ball of fire.

"You're all clear 10" reported Mu 2. "Nuke those Corvettes and let's get back to the party".

"Okay, Launch rockets….NOW" shouted Thorin.

8 Heavy Rockets, 2 from each fighter, simultaneously flew from their torpedo tubes and shot towards their targets. The rockets were fired from just 3 klicks, so fighters had no chance of stopping them.. Their speed also prevented the Corvettes from getting a clear shot. There was nothing they could do.

Thorin's rockets hit their target first. The rockets, a lot more powerful than standard proton torpedoes, easily penetrated the corvette's shields and detonated against the ship's hull, the massive warhead completely disintegrating a huge chunk of the stern. The corvette was engulfed by a massive argent fireball which cooked everything and everyone inside the doomed ship. As the explosion dispersed parts of the ship into vacuum, the dead remnants drifted towards the edge of the sector.

Whoops and cheers erupted over the comm as the rest of the rockets had similar effects on their targets. Thorin smiled and waited for the commotion to calm down a little.

"Good work Mu Squadron" said Thorin, letting his elation show a little. "We've hit them hard, but this battle is not over yet. Let's get back to those X-Wings and do what we can. I've prepared something special for the Mon Cal's".

Lt. Craddock blinked in disbelief. His Corellian Corvette escorts had all been wiped out, in a mere matter of minutes, seconds. By a single flight of Tie Defenders. What the Hell was he doing wrong. Vengeance bubbled up in him as the Antidote entered the hanger of the Kalidor. This 'Mu Squadron' would pay for this humiliating loss. 4 corvettes was an entirely different story from 2 Mon cal cruisers.

As Craddock descended the boarding ramp, he was aware of a hissing sound from behind him. Curious, he marched back up the ramp, pushing his way through the wounded rebel troopers. On board the transport, the sound had diminished. Shaking his head, Craddock walked back out of the transport and keyed his comm.

"Weapons, concentrate all laser batteries on the Delta base. All laser and ion cannons are to focus on the Tie Defenders. Instruct Kalidor to do the same. We cannot let a ragged bunch of sick imperials humiliate us any further".

As he exited into the hanger again, Craddock was again greeted by the unusual hissing sound. It was coming from the transport all right. Craddock waved over a mechanic.

"Get up there, see what that sound is" ordered the rebel Lieutenant.

The mechanic clambered up the ladder and on to the top of the transport.

"Well, what is it" questioned Lt. Craddock.

"I don't know" replied the mechanic. "It looks like a, a………."

"A what" cried Craddock

He was rewarded by an immense retching sound coming from the roof of the transport. Gut-wrenching sounds emitted from the mechanic, which in turn caused his stomach to churn. Then it dawned on him. The imperials attached a strain of the virus to the transport. Chances were that all the rebels that were on the transports, himself included, were now infected. He had to stop the troopers from infecting anyone else. Trying to keep his stomach contents down, he keyed his comm.

"Bridge, seal off all returning troops from other personnel" stammered Craddock. "Virus is infecting us, rapid infection period".

"Sir, we need you on the bridge now, we have a serious problem" said the urgent voice on the comm

"Have to wait" replied Craddock, constantly swallowing.

"Um, sir, an Imperial Star Destroyer just entered the system and is firing upon the Pride"

Craddock could take it no more. Collapsing in a heap, he emptied his stomach. Spluttering, he laughed at the irony of the imperials using their own tactic against them. As he lapsed into unconsciousness, his biggest regret was that he'd had two servings of bantha steak before the battle.

Mu squadron were commended for their efforts in defending Delta base. Their losses in the second battle was just 5 fighters; 4 base personnel and Mu 12. This was considered a miracle when these statistics were compared with the rebel's losses; 4 squadrons X-Wings destroyed, 1 captured. 4 Corellian corvettes destroyed. 1 Mon cal cruiser destroyed, 1 captured. Mu squadron knew, however, it was no miracle. Pure skill and cunning was what Mu Squadron had used to save Delta base.

CM Thorin Orlos and his Mu Squadron pilots were all awarded the Gold Star for their part in the battle.

So to was Dr Sslither, who's medical expertise in creating a new strain of the virus, and combating the initial one, was invaluable.

Lt. Craddock and the rest of the staff on the Kalidor were let to suffer the virus for a week or to before help was sent to the Kalidor. With the lack of active personnel on the ship, life support had been cut in many places, which made the job for the invading Stormtroopers a lot easier.

Mu Squadron was re-assigned to the ISD Colossus where it is currently considered one of the best of the EH Strike Fleet's Tie Squadrons.

"Annihilation will reward those who oppose Mu Squadron"

By FM/SL Brandon Trilad/Mu I-3/Wing VIII/ISD Colossus/[IWATS]

PRT Deathblade (Sith)/House Borleais of Aquillas

Surprise Attack.

"Alpha 2 & 3 break right and make it look as if you are fleeing"." Roger Alpha 1 at your command".

The wingmen began the apparent escape from the deadly volley of laser fire, Alpha 1 continued with his heavy bomb attack. Aiming. For the rebel cruisers shield generator.

Despite heavy fire with careful use of the shield system Alpha 1 clawed his way closer and closer to the rebel starship. When at minimum range the pilot unloaded two heavy bombs right on top of the Lt cruiser Atabi.

Alpha 1 flew through the debris of the shield generator and without hesitation took aim at the nearest laser turret even as his targeting computer went down. "Alpha 1, To Alpha 2 & 3 attack the belly of the rebel now!"

The two wingmen turned at full engine boost with shields at maximum and drove straight in to the belly of the rebel cruiser, its shields down. With only minimal lasers coming to bear, both fighters released two heavy bombs as the "Atabi" tried to turn away, Too late for this cruiser though. The heavy bombs detonated together, four massive explosions ripping and tearing into the ship causing massive ruptures in the hull

Alpha 2 swept along the hull adding linked laser fire to help finish the job Alpha 3 swung off ready to fire more and watching out incase there were any rebel fighters left. Alpha 1 ordered them both to form up even as the Lt Cruiser Atabi disappeared in a massive explosion that shook all three Tie Advanced.

"That should make for an exciting debriefing film, Admiral Thrawn will be pleased!" " Aye skipper the Admiral will, " Replied Lt Atreides in Alpha 2.

"All ships report back to the Hammer", was the order from the Frigate Hammer's flight officer, "And Alpha 1 Report immediately to the Admirals quarters".

Once aboard the Frigate Hammer Lt Halleck made his way to the Admirals office, while his team mates Atriedes and Idaho began the debriefing with the intelligence officer.

Admiral Thrawn his presence imposing and daunting looked up as Lt Halleck, entered behind the Admirals aid. "Sit Down Halleck and you may leave Jarvis". The aid left without a word and Halleck noticed the silence as Thrawn studied him. "You did well out their Lt".

"Thank you Sir. Halleck could barely say more with the fear of what might be coming. " Because of your bravery today, You shall receive an extra pip for your sleeve." Gurney Halleck was stunned, he didn't feel he had done anything exceptional, he was just doing his job. "That's not why you're here though, Could you handle another mission straight away?"

Gurney Halleck swallowed and face red looked straight at the Admiral. "Of course Sir, Whatever the Empire needs I give". "Well said Captain, " Halleck almost failed to notice and then the Admirals words struck him, He had been given a battle field promotion. "Thank you Admiral, thank you very much".

Gurney knew the extra pay would help his family back on Coruscant. The promotion would help his families prestige in the circle of Imperial hangers on. "LT along with the promotion I am sending you on a very important mission, something you can't discuss with your crew members or anyone except Major Trodd from the intelligence office, understood."
"Aye sir at your command". "Off with you then and good luck, Glory to the Empire". So swift was the dismissal Halleck barely noticed. Jarvis the aid showed him from the Admiral's quarters to the main corridor and without a word saluted solemmly.

Walking from section to section in this great ship, Halleck felt elation and at the same time the reasonable fear of the unknown that any wise man feels. Yet he knew he was being given a tremendous opportunity to serve the Empire and to advance his career. After all a special operation for the Admiral was something not every one had the chance to be worthy off.

He knocked firmly on the Intelligence office door, a quick "Enter" and he stepped over the coming into the presence of Major Trodd, a thin gaunt man, who peered at Halleck over thin rimmed glasses. Be seated Captain, Congratulations on your promotion ". Trodd held his hand up and motioned to the holo tank between them. "No time for pleasantries Cpt.". Halleck nodded and without a chance to say anything, he allowed the prim officer to begin.

"We believe there is a large battle fleet somewhere in the area of Gieddi Prime. A number of scout ships have not returned from the area. You are going to take a captured X-wing and dressed as a rebel pilot will do a long range recon and report to us what is in that region. Understood!" Gurney Halleck, newly minted Captain almost lost his composure

"Surely, Sir, I will do my duty, but may I ask why I need to do this in a rebel fighter?" Trodd stood and walked closer to the holo table. Looking across its surface and then at the young officer he knew he was sending to his death. "We believe that this region may contain the largest rebel battle fleet we have ever encountered. This knowledge may well save the lives of many thousands of Imperial men and women. Also in a rebel fighter you may have enough time to send a secure coded transmission, before you are discovered". Major Trodd waited for an acknowledgement and received the same very crisply.

"Aye sir, When do I leave and what must I do specifically?" Halleck tense with anticipation waited as the Major stared at the holo table. "You will fly X-wing Gold 1 to the preset co-ordinates and stooge about looking for any signs of the battle fleet. If you find it, you will attempt to signal us with the transponder in the modified R2 unit aboard your X-wing . It is a prototype and will only send one brief signal and you will do your best to get out of there and disappear until we come for you. No heroics ok!".

"Aye Sir and when do I leave?" As soon as you have a meal and can get down to the flight deck, everything you need is aboard the X-wing as well as a few extra stim packs to keep you alert, you may be out there a long time. Any other questions?" Halleck swallowed and looking the Intelligence officer directly in the face he said "No Sir, I am ready to serve". Major Trodd smiled, "On your way then and remember the best defense is to attack." Thank you Sir" replied Gurney Halleck and without looking back he left heading straight to the flight deck, not wanting to bother with a meal.

The Next Phase…

Gurney was surprised to find the flight deck deserted, except for his own flight crew who quickly helped him suit up and familiarized him with the x-wings slight control differences.

Swallowing a sim tab, he wished his crew well and the crew chief called out as the canopy closed "We will be waiting for you sir" Gurney waved in acknowledgement, not believing he would see his ship or crew again.

"Capt. Halleck", sounded from the flight com, "You are clear to leave ship, we shall not have any communication with you until your signal arrives, roger?" Gurney heard the implied no radio traffic messages and clicked his radio button in response. He felt the launch arms drop his ship down through the belly of the mighty Hammer and as the grapples released he accelerated to 1/3 throttle and looking over his shoulder said a silent goodbye to his only real home.

Imperial pilots spend so much of their lives aboard ship it becomes home the crew the family and even when off duty they spend their hours in the recreation room or the flight sim chambers. A good pilot is always flying even if it's only in the holo tank.

Hours passed and the drone of the x-wings engine was a comforting sound. Nothing showed on the CMD.

Halleck had heard no radio traffic of any kind. Even the modified R2 unit was not chirping. Halleck relived the halcyon training days, tough NCO's chewing you out to make you jump when an order is given. Watching as young hopefuls washed out of training for so many reasons, not tough enough or loyal enough.

But he made it, despite his tendency to do things on his own he had learned how to be a team player, as a matter of fact he wished he had his Alpha Flight with him now.

Halleck flew on in silence sometimes taking over from the autopilot and engaging in mock dogfights. Other times just pushing the x-wing to its maximum and having to grudgingly admit it was a good craft to fly. He knew that in the hands of a capable pilot an X-wing was very hard to hit.

Back on autopilot Gurney Halleck slept trusting The R2 unit the long-range scanner to warn him anything troublesome.

"X-wing Identify yourself!" Halleck woke startled and almost replied with his Alpha 1 call sign, remembering just in time where he was. Gold 1 lost and lonely, who is that "? This is Delta Squadron out of the Mon Calamari Heavy Cruiser Strident, What ship are you from laddie?"

"Regretfully, I am the only survivor of the Cruiser Atabi, destroyed two days ago" "You for real man how did you get away"? Came the quick testing reply. " I was disabled in a small minefield and just drifting, when the Imperials just left. When I managed to get my engines online I destroyed enough mines to get out and heading away from the area incase the Imperials came back for a look. I didn't know where to head so I just flew this way, since I don't have hyperspace capability just now and my R2 unit is acting up too."

"Well, you just follow us and we'll get you somewhere safe, but leave your weapons offline like a good little fella, ok". Sure only my left laser cannon is working any how and I don't have any torpedoes left".

Delta Squadron's commander could put his finger on it but he wasn't quite sure about the pilot in Gold 1, yet his answers seemed natural and his ship sure had been in one helluva fight that was obvious. Still, better to be safe than sorry. Although what one fighter could do against the battle fleet ahead he couldn't imagine.

Captain Gurney Halleck swallowed another stim tab and some cold coffee, and nearly choked as his CMD sprang to life. Telling him of a mass of hundreds of ships ahead, Frigates, old Dreadnoughts Calamari Battle Cruisers, and Correllian Corvettes lined up in rows. Troop transports Cargo ferries. Halleck had never seen a display of such size even in the shipyards of Coruscant.

Gurney knew something big was about to happen, and he had his orders. Primary mission was to advise the Hammer of this monster fleets position and that was that. The rebel fighters seemed to be leading him to the dreadnought he identified as the Goliath, a long time ago it had been an Imperial Navy ship, apparent from the badly painted over Navy logo.

With few choices Gurney activated the sender built into the R2 unit and it screamed its head off for 60 seconds and then abruptly shot a great ball of flame and sparks. The other pilots all swung into an attack posture and Halleck believed this was the time to die. "What the hell was that Pilot?" Gurney presumed it was the flight leader asking. " Who knows it took a few bad hits and it seems totally dead now, its been doing that ever since we left the battle zone". Gurney was ready for almost anything now. " You had better shut everything down, NOW, Do you copy, I will call a transport to tow you into the hangar of the Goliath, Roger".

"Roger and thanks". Gurney knew that once aboard the Goliath he would be discovered quickly, waiting till the rebel fighters were well into the landing pad and the transport was heading for him, he brought engines and weapons online. " Gold 1 what are you playing at?" " I am just testing to see if I have any maneuvering power left boss" "You don't need weapons online for that now shut down all systems or we will do it for you!"

Halleck not wishing to give to much away shut down his weapons systems but let his engines build and before he could be stopped Gurney selected full throttle and flew straight at the dreadnought Goliath. Loading the last torpedo he locked on the launch bay and even as light fire came at him fired and at close range saw the torpedo enter the hangar and felt the blast as it detonated inside the large rebel ship.

Fighters were being launched from all over this massive fleet and as he saw explosion ripping through the Goliath, the first real attacks began, x-wings and A-wings converged as his fighter surged in and around the closely parked enemy ships. Many could not fire for fear of hitting their own. Some took the risk any way

Halleck had one chance and only one. He had to fire up his Hyperdrive, doing so this close to so many ships could tear him apart or even destroy some of them. Gurney didn't care better to go out like that than to be taken prisoner. He brought the engines up even as he dodged and weaved throught seemingly unending lines of ships.

He saw ion bolts ripping past and new time was short. Without any more hesitation and finding a gap Gurney engaged his Hyperdrive and as the auto control took over he felt and saw laser hits. The stars blurred and thrown back in his seat Gurney swallowed feeling the transition of here to there. He breathed; slowly his ship was still together, yet he had felt a tearing or explosion of some kind. Gurney passed out as he realized he had indeed been hit. Something large had sliced through his suit into his left knee.

Waking, dim lights surround him and the med chamber hums and soothes him. "You will be ok pilot" a disembodied voice reassured. "Where am I?" He croaked at the wall. "Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer hammer your base ship" Thank the Emperor for that ",

"You were found drifting along way from here by a spy probe and we picked you up on our way to interdict some rebel fleet, but when we arrived other than some debris a and a few life pods ewe found nothing. The fleet must have left in a big hurry ".

" Thanks, How long will I be here? " You can get up and go back to your quarters but take it easy ok!"

"Sure, Sure, gingerly Gurney raised his aching body, no sign of the wound, just a sore head from to many stim tabs. As he left the med bay A cheering and yelling began as He saw his comrades race to grab him and lift him high over the re heads. His teammates Paul Atreides Yelled over the noisy crowd, " The Admiral says to rest for the rest of the day and to see him at 600 hrs Ok and he added a thank you to that. Boy do you know what happened out here?" Gurney a bit stunned by all the noise and fuss shook his head.

"We found the remains of five or so cruisers and transports and we captured a nearly full squadron of A-wings dead in space. It looks as though someone activated a Hyperdrive engine inside the rebel fleet"!

It was the only chance I had After I found the fleet, I was getting chased by more rebels than I have ever seen before" The crowd roared and yelled until an officer ordered some quiet and said to keep it that way till they were in the recreation room.

While everyone celebrated Gurney sat with Paul and told the story as it happened and despite the slaps on the back and the offer of drinks, he remained calm for he knew the bulk of the fleet, that huge enemy fleet was still out there somewhere. Waiting.

THE END FOR NOW.

Adam Watson

The beginning of the Emperor's Hammer Saga…

Real Name: Adam Watson

Character name: Owen Michaels

Callsign: Lone Ranger

Rank: General

Squadron & Position: Psi Squadron, Flight Two, Position Two.

Sex (M/F): M

Race: Human

Place of Birh and/or where character grew up: Lone Ranger was born on Coruscant.

How you came to join your current squadron/wing: Was picked up from the planet Lotoomi Three, known as the games planet, after escaping a Rebel prison after being captured at the Battle of Endor when the Imperial fleet jumped out of the system. Worked as a fighter in the Grand Arena's many events, fighting for nothing more than food. Was noticed by two Dark Jedi of the Emperor's Hammer looking for some kind of burned out pilot like Owen Michaels to once again go back to the front-line.

Personality & Attitude: Quiet most of the time, keeping to himself. Generally quick tempered, but can generally hold his patience for quite a long time. Now that he is back on the line, his attitude has changed dramatically, switching back to the near fanaticism that he once knew.

Physical Description: 6'1", about 25 years old. Has black hair, short and generally always a mess. A tattoo around the left eye, blade hanging down from the center of the bottom of the left eye, and two protruding from the top of the eye at forty-five degree angles.

Former Occupations (if any): Pilot in Black Knights – Full-time fighter in the Lotoomi Three Inter-Galactic games.

Hobbies, Habits, and/or special skills: Likes to create and mix music for live performances, and enjoys fighting in any form, but mostly for entertainment. Also known to be practicing in the ways of the Force, but Owen would deny that such a think even exists, despite the evidence he's seen.

Preferred Starfighter: None, anything with shields and a hyperdrive will do, but he isn't fussy. If it can shoot, then it'll do.

Most Common Phrase: "Challenge the best, die like the rest!", "D'OH!" or "Why am I talking to you, when I could be doing something much more dangerous, like rearranging my sock drawer."

Other information: Lone Ranger is a clone of many. The original man, Adam "Lone Ranger" Watson, was partly responsible for leading some three hundred Star Destroyers out of the galaxy through a Wormhole after an incursion into the galaxy by a group known as the Rivvarian Empire. It is not known what happened to the original Lone Ranger, but it is thought that he died in what has been termed the Survvin Galaxy. The other clones, Leviathan, Trojan and Serbitar are little heard of. Trojan is dead, serving under the Rebel Alliance as a pilot before being shot in what was called a mistake of identity killing. Leviathan is a mercenary pilot who still flies to this day, and Serbitar was last seen flying the splinter group of the Emperor's Hammer, Intruder Wing. Apparently Serbitar took a bullet to the head in one battle, and has apparently gone insane. Owen Michaels made sure that he received a challenge at the next Lotoomi Three Inter-Galactic games to make sure he could rid himself of the traitor who had affiliated himself with the Intruder Wing.