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Chapter Text

Character List

Lieutenant Dorset “Dors” Konnair (Human female from Coruscant)
In Wraith Squadron and Solo Command, Dorset is depicted as having black hair, pale skin, and several blue tattoos. She takes part in the escape from Folor Base - after losing to Kell and Runt in their race - and survives the ending, unlike her first wingmate Tetengo Noor. I filled in details of her personality based on what was in the book - she’s headstrong and obsessed with flying.

Her parents wanted Dorset to go into a career that would advance the family’s social standing (she’s an only child) and they had a falling out after she enlisted instead. The “Dors” nickname comes from not always being fond of the Coruscanti aristocratic nature of her full first name.

Particularly in Parts 1-2, Dorset put flight training and being combat-ready above any romantic attachments - she turned down Ton Phanan at Folor and was attracted to Kell after the race but not looking to date him. (She didn’t know he and Tyria got together until after the Ession battle.) I also wrote Dorset as being unconcerned with her physical appearance, given the face tattoo.
The Zsinj campaign took its toll on Dorset - her two best friends, Tetengo and Rushi Yivet, died at Selaggis. Then the survivors learned Zsinj and Iron Fist had escaped, making all the deaths seem meaningless. Dorset blamed herself for that in the first half of Part 3.

Lieutenant Radielle “Radie” Felian (Human female from Corellia)
Radie is the fully original character of the bunch, but keeps a lot about pre-enlistment life close to the vest (and wears a literal one.) Her mother was killed by the Empire when Radie was 15 (in 1 ABY) and she hasn’t said much about her father beyond them being smugglers. (Both are also original characters.) After her mom’s death, she spent a year in the Corellian resistance.

Radie helped Dorset get through the losses after Part 2, while dealing with her own. It had been left a bit open-ended - due to the trope of introducing an LGBT+ character and then killing them off - but I wrote Parts 1-3 with the idea that Radie was dating her wingmate Ro’aven (one of the seven Polearms who die at the end of Part 2.) Part 4 confirms that without focusing on it much, and her vengeful nature isn’t tied to Ro’aven’s death either - she was like that already.

Lieutenant Linna Irarch (Human female from Naboo)
Linna is technically not original, though her EU appearance is limited to one page in Bacta War where she’s an A-Wing pilot in Pash Cracken’s group who tries to trash-talk X-Wings to Corran. I’d been planning to introduce a pilot who transferred to Polearm Squadron in Part 2, and Linna was a good fit without making someone up. She’s like a female Janson, and lost part of a leg at Selaggis. Linna and Radie are 23 in Part 4, while Dorset is 21.

Commander Todra Mayn (Human female from Commenor)
The former leader of Polearm Squadron, Mayn is depicted as a capable pilot who cares for her subordinates but isn’t close to them on a personal level in the way Wedge could be with Rogues and Wraiths. She’s also just referred to by rank and/or last name, unless Linna is talking to her.

Those are the main characters; I’ll list the rest just by name and group affiliation. Asterisks mark original characters, and there will also be a few pulled from new canon as in earlier parts. Some of the planets of origin for existing characters here are details I made up as well.

New Republic Pilots aboard Swift Liberty
Brevet Captain Chea Sedgwik (Human male from Carida) - Gray Leader*
Brevet Captain Syrra Ried (Human female from Eriadu) - Rover Leader*
Brevet Captain Braylen Stramm (Human male from Naboo) - Raven Leader
Lyyr Zatoq (Quarren female from Mon Cala) - Rover Five
Vek Dy’la (Bothan male from Kothlis) - Rover Eight*
Owen Nordan (Human male from Belderone) - Raven Three*
Nir Pulastra (Human male from Ord Mantell) - Raven Four*

(Braylen Stramm is from the canon Blade Squadron short stories and Lyyr Zatoq is from Isard's Revenge.)

Rogue Squadron
Commander Wedge Antilles, Rogue Leader (Human male from Corellia)
Captain Tycho Celchu, Rogue Two (Human male from Alderaan)
Kenn Nitram, Rogue Three (Human male from Coruscant)
Lieutenant Derek “Hobbie” Klivian, Rogue Four (Human male from Ralltiir)
Lieutenant Wes Janson, Rogue Five (Human male from Taanab)
Gavin Darklighter, Rogue Six (Human male from Tatooine)
Lieutenant Myn Donos, Rogue Seven (Human male from Corellia)
Koobis “Target” Nu, Rogue Eight (Rodian male from Rodia)
Lieutenant Corran Horn, Rogue Nine (Human male from Corellia)
Lieutenant Ooryl Qrygg, Rogue Ten (Gand male from Gand)
Lieutenant Asyr Sei’lar, Rogue Eleven (Bothan female from Bothawui)
Inyri Forge, Rogue Twelve (Human female from Kessel)
Lieutenant Nawara Ven, Executive Officer (Twi’lek male from Ryloth)

Wraith Squadron
Captain Garik “Face” Loran (Human male from Pantolomin)
Lieutenant Tyria Sarkin (Human female from Toprawa)
Lieutenant Kell Tainer (Human male from Sluis Van)
Lieutenant Shalla Nelprin (Human female from Ingo)
Hohass “Runt” Ekwesh (Thakwaash male from Thakwaa)
Dia Passik (Twi’lek female from Ryloth)
Voort “Piggy” saBinring (Gamorrean male from Gamorr)
Elassar Targon (Devaronian male from Devaron)

New Republic Military
Admiral Gial Ackbar (Mon Calamari male from Mon Cala) - Supreme Commander
Admiral Hiram Drayson (Human male from Chandrila) - Commander of Coruscant Defenses
Admiral Firmus Nantz (Human male from Jabiim) - Commander of the First Fleet
General Edor Crespin (Human male from Corulag) - Starfighter Command Chief of Staff
General Airen Cracken (Human male from Contruum) - Director of Intelligence
Colonel Jak Bremen (Human male from Shiffrin) - Director of Provisional Council Security
Commander Onoma (Mon Calamari male from Mon Cala) - Captain of Mon Remonda
Commander Sair Yonka (Human male from Commenor) - Captain of Freedom
Commander Areta Bell (Human female from Corellia) - Captain of Swift Liberty
Captain Atril Tabanne (Human female from Coruscant) - Captain of Ession Strike
Captain Pash Cracken (Human male from Contruum) - Ace Leader
Captain Evaan Verlaine (Human female from Alderaan) - Dauntless Leader

New Republic Leadership
Chief Councilor Mon Mothma (Human female from Chandrila)
Councilor Leia Organa Solo (Human female from Alderaan)
Councilor Borsk Fey’lya (Bothan male from Kothlis)
Councilor Sian Tew (Sullustan male from Sullust)
Chief Aide Winter Retrac (Human female from Alderaan)
Chief Aide Tav Breil’lya (Bothan male from Kothlis)

Others
Han Solo (Human male from Corellia)
Luke Skywalker (Human male from Tatooine)
Lando Calrissian (Human male from Socorro)
Mirax Terrik Horn (Human female from Corellia)
Garm Bel Iblis (Human male from Corellia)
Sena Leikvold Midanyl (Human female from Corellia)
Irenez (Human female from Corellia)

Imperial Remnant
Grand Admiral Thrawn (Chiss male from Csilla)
Admiral Teren Rogriss (Human male from Balmorra)
Captain Gilad Pellaeon (Human male from Corellia)
Soontir Fel (Human male from Corellia)
Joruus C’Baoth (Human male from Wayland)

If you’re asking questions like “Where’s Mara and Karrde?” - I’m writing within the confines of the story, so you won’t see Dorset interact with POV characters in a way not seen in the novels for instance. That said, there are some EU characters who will appear without being listed here. 

Chapter Text

“During the Clone Wars, the Grand Army of the Republic relied on a single template - to the detriment of its starfighter corps.”

- Excerpt from assigned reading at the Anaxes War College.

1

“We may have a lead on how we lost so badly at Xyquine. It’s only rumor, but Mirax heard talk from the fringe that the Imps could have some Dark Jedi helping them now. And whispers of a new fleetwide commander - maybe even one of the grand admirals.”

Commander Todra Mayn’s voice was quiet and worried as she talked to the other three A-Wing pilots standing around her - lieutenants Dorset Konnair, Radie Felian, and Linna Irarch.

Dorset, almost 21 and a Coruscant native, was the youngest of the three. Her night-black hair was cut close to the shoulders, and her sleeveless custom flightsuit showed part of her tattoo array. She had dreamed of being a pilot her whole life, and enlisted with Starfighter Command both to fly and to help liberate other worlds as Rogue Squadron had freed her own. 

Linna had similar motivations, though she’d joined before Naboo’s liberation and served in Ace Squadron then transferred over to Polearm. Linna had curly golden-blonde hair and green eyes. Off duty, she seemed irrepressibly carefree - it was her way to help boost unit morale. 

Then there was Radie, a Corellian woman with red-orange hair and cold brown eyes. The other two became combat pilots to do their part and would have been just as happy flying as civilians. Radie, however, joined to fight. She didn’t enjoy it, but would do whatever was necessary to end rule by the Imperials and other oppressive groups throughout the galaxy. The bitter irony was that her planet remained part of the Empire, following the disastrous attempt to liberate Corellia.

But at least we might have a hint at how that ambush happened.  

Dorset wasn’t sure which was worse, or less likely - that a force-sensitive survived the Imperial purges, only to join their ranks; or that New Republic Intelligence hadn’t eliminated the last of the fabled and feared grand admirals after all.

“What’s the source on this rumor?” Radie asked as she moved next to Dorset and looked back toward Sivantlie Base. “We should head over and pack our stuff, just in case.”

“It’s conjecture at this point - a sabacc dealer who used to work on the Errant Venture was in a tapcaf and heard a couple Imperial lieutenants on leave talking about it. Hopefully it’s nothing but drunken exaggerations. Skywalker could be able to authenticate the Dark Jedi part soon at least,” Mayn answered. “NRI hasn’t deemed it credible enough to brief Mon Mothma and the Provisional Council yet; they don’t want to have it leak out and cause a panic unnecessarily.”

Radie snickered derisively upon mention of the Council, then blushed at Mayn’s withering glare. The former leader of Polearm Squadron wasn’t fond of Radie’s frequently scornful view of them.

“Officially, General Crespin can’t change his policies yet - so a lot of squadrons are still assigned to convoy escort. Off the books, he wants us to be ready for rapid action,” the commander said. 

General Edor Crespin, now chief of staff for Starfighter Command, had been in charge of Dorset and Radie’s training unit at Folor. That connection certainly had its benefits for the former pilots in Blue and Gold squadrons there, though Crespin himself was now stuck between political and military duties. Getting taken off the line to serve as his aide would be Radie’s personal hell.

Mirax Terrik had joined them, her face drawn. “I’ll keep working my contacts and pass what I get on to General Cracken; he and I have an arrangement when it comes to sharing fringe rumors.”

“Sorry this rained all over the YT-2000 flight,” she added kindly to Radie. “I just got a message about it and didn’t want to tell you until after we’d all landed.”

But the fellow Corellian, whose parents had owned a freighter in that line when she was a child, was less concerned about how these rumors affected the flight Mirax had arranged.

“I don’t mean to sound happy about this - if it’s even true - but Dors knows I was anxious to get back into the fight,” Radie pointed out. Dorset nodded; Radie had struggled during the pause of military engagements following Xyquine II. For better or worse, that was likely to end soon. 

“Good, then, because we’re going to combat readiness again. I’m afraid that means your ships need to be repainted,” Mayn told Dorset and Linna. Their A-Wings had carried very decorative color schemes during their work at Gorom, but it was back to the standard red and cream now. Radie’s design, on the other hand, was close enough with its crimson and off-white colors.

Dorset was still perturbed as she went back to the room shared with Radie and began packing up their limited possessions - a few starfighter models, clothes, flight gear, some holopictures, and Radie’s blasters. Base living keeps this uncomplicated, Dorset thought. I’m used to it now.

“What do you know about the grand admirals?” she asked Radie. “I thought they were gone.”

“So did I. Zsinj never truly earned the rank, and several of them killed each other off after Endor. Rumor is one cut a deal with Cracken to retire. Had they been unified, the Rebellion would have been unlikely to survive - let alone push to Coruscant. If it’s true another took over… that’s bad.”

“Yup,” Linna said drily as she stood next to the doorway. “I had heard a story about a Force user recently too, living on some backwater planet that few return from.”

“What talk is that?” Radie asked, her eyes narrowing skeptically.

“Just some gossip I got from a council aide a week ago. I didn’t make much of it until Mayn told us about this rumor of a new commander and the Dark Jedi. At least there might be others.”

“Do you think that part’s true?” Dorset asked them both nervously. “We’ve seen what the Force means for Corran and Tyria, and they’re not even trained. If we have to fight a Dark Jedi pilot…”

Radie shrugged. “How many of the Imps and warlords have claimed to have some force power? They’re a decicred a dozen at this point. I’ll believe it when I see it, because if I see it we can kill them. Same goes for the grand admiral claim; Zsinj pretended to be one too and he’s dead.” 

Linna chuckled, nodding. “You really are the ‘shoot first, ask questions after’ type, aren’t you?”

Radie bared a toothy grin, but Dorset still wasn’t reassured completely.

“They say Vader could fly almost as well as Fel, though, and the stories about how he could use the Force-” Dorset shivered slightly as she remembered the accounts that had been passed on, of soldiers whose blasters were ripped from their hands and saw comrades slashed apart by his lightsaber or choked to death by an invisible hand. Few had survived such ground encounters.

“But Antilles is better than that twice-collaborating vermin Fel,” Radie hissed angrily, before she cooled down and gave Dorset a comforting smile. I’m not sure if anything riles her up like being reminded the Imps’ best pilot was from Corellia too, wherever he’s gone off to now.  

Back when they were training at Folor Base, Levoc Tine had made a crude joke on the similarity between Radie’s last name and Fel. She’d taken a swing at him that would have knocked out a few teeth if Ro’aven hadn’t intercepted it, but at least none of their commanders were present.

Dorset shook her head as she remembered how deliberately annoying the Duros trainee had been to the rest of them. He was good, though - I hope this doesn’t make me miss his skill.

“Don’t forget, we have Skywalker too - he’s a pilot and he took on Vader and the Emperor alone at Endor,” Radie was saying. “Word is Leia Organa also has force sensitivity - right, Linna?”

The pilot from Naboo nodded, recounting a legend of the young Jedi who had saved them from droid invasion before the Clone Wars. Dorset couldn’t help but feel relieved by her enthusiasm.

Even if an entire task force did just up and disappear recently. I hear Antilles is looking into that.

Dorset waited until Linna finished telling the story and went back to her room to keep packing. Then she turned to where Radie was adding a hidden blaster holder on the rear of her belt.

“Could you let me know if you learn about anything like this?” Dorset asked quietly. “You seem confident and all, but we lost a lot of people in the process of killing Vader and the Emperor. If word is coming in from the fringe, maybe your dad heard something from other smugglers.”

Radie’s expression shifted briefly and then she nodded. “Of course. I just don’t want you to worry about shadows and ghosts of evil force-users from the past. It’s not like they can come back from the dead, you know? And any living thing can be killed, Force powers or not. Just look at how the Empire wiped out the Jedi before our time, even if that’s a tragic example.”

“Thanks for not bringing him up in front of Linna, though,” Radie added after a moment.

Dorset nodded sadly. Talking about her dad would lead to questions about her mom, and Radie doesn’t like to mention that she’s dead. I still only know the basics about what happened myself.

Radie had been 15 when stormtroopers killed her mother, and like Dorset she enlisted with the New Republic military after the liberation of Coruscant. They’d both been in for over two years now, and the war on Zsinj had claimed the lives of their best friends and wingmates at the time.

Linna had lost her leg at the knee at Selaggis as well, even if her prosthetic was fully functional. The three and Commander Mayn were the sole survivors of Polearm Squadron, and had spent around a year helping with a test program for the E-Wing starfighter. The project was placed on hold after the prototype crashed, and while Dorset was injured she remained proud of her work. The three scars on her face were kept as a badge of honor, and she’d adapted to her lost finger.

It’s too bad we don’t have those fighters yet. And now we’re going back to combat status, so we won’t be flying test development again soon. I just hope we aren’t divided up into different units.

Radie was glancing up from her oversized datapad after reading the latest Council report. 

“The New Republic is apparently trying to hire smugglers into becoming cargo pilots. If this new threat wasn’t on the rise, they might be pulling combat personnel over instead - imagine going from our A-Wings to being stuck in transports. It’s not that I want a new Imperial threat, but at least we get to keep fighting them.”

Dorset nodded. She’d enlisted to help free planets from the Empire too, but expected that to end eventually. Most of the trainees in Blue and Gold squadrons who moved on to Polearm thought the war would end soon, and that their time in service could be limited to a few years.

But now - with the possibility of another campaign looming - Dorset wondered if it ever would.

Chapter Text

2

They were still waiting for orders, and Dorset found Radie on the small arms range after their breakfast the next day. She was working through a series of targets - a mix of stormtroopers, Imp Army soldiers, and civilians to avoid shooting. Radie had even changed into a set of drab fatigues rather than a flightsuit, leaving her favorite red vest placed over a chair behind them. Sounds of blaster fire echoed up and down the lane, and Dorset winced despite her earplugs. 

“Hey, Radie - you know we’re still pilots, right? They aren’t so short on combat personnel that we’re being thrown in as light infantry… unless you’re worried that will happen in the future?”

“No. I don’t mean to alarm you - I just want to be ready for anything. Even if it’s only rumors at this point,” Radie said. She pulled her loose red-orange hairs back again, holstering the DL-44.

“Does that include the Dark Jedi?” Dorset asked nervously, looking at the array of figures down range and the glowing blaster holes on their head and chest level. How do you shoot someone who can sense your attack coming and throw a rock in front of the blaster fire or deflect it back? Not to mention electrocuting you into a slow death, like they say the Emperor could do.

“Not really,” Radie answered drily. “I guess there, the best option is to dogfight them or shooting from long range where I can’t be seen and attacked. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, okay? It’s what we have Skywalker for, and someday he’ll have trained Organa, Horn, and Tyria.”

“Definitely. If you’re done here, Linna was trying to get Commander Mayn to agree to a name for the four of us as a flight in whatever squadron we’re folded into next. I could use another voice of reason and maturity,” Dorset said with a laugh.

Radie shrugged and followed Dorset out, pulling the red vest back on and rolling her sleeves up. She looked more like a soldier than a pilot in those clothes, but that came from the year she was in the Corellian underground after her mother was killed. It’s probably what brought her and Ro together, Dorset thought sadly, remembering the Twi’lek pilot who died at Selaggis as well.

They had retired the name Polearm Squadron afterward - a reminder of too many friends they’d lost to Zsinj - but now, as they prepared to go back to war, it was time for a new unit designation.

“No, we’re not going with ‘Silly Flight’ - I know you stole that from the Wraiths,” Mayn was telling Linna as Dorset and Radie caught up to them. “I need fresh ideas, she won’t give this a rest.”

“We could do something based on colors, but then I’d say Cobalt and Radie would recommend Crimson. If we mixed them into Purple, Linna will probably complain about not having yellow,” Dorset said.

Radie chuckled at the colorful suggestion while thinking of her own. 

“I’d say something like Wrath Flight, but it sounds too much like our X-Wing friends and probably won’t meet military decorum standards. ‘Panther’ would be kind of cool though,” she told them.

“Ooh, I got a real one!” Linna cut in. “Spitfire Flight - come on, don’t you like saying it?”

“I have no idea where you came up with that,” Radie lied with a snort as the other two laughed and nodded in approval. Now renamed, the group of four went off to see General Crespin.

***

“You’ve already been briefed on this rumor Terrik relayed; if we responded to every bit of raw intelligence that comes in like that, there wouldn’t be time for anything else. Right now, I have way too many competing priorities to really prepare for such an eventuality - Antilles was just sent out to back up Solo for some smugglers’ meeting, for instance. But the four of you remain unassigned, and Admiral Ackbar agreed it makes sense to prep a rapid response team for any scenarios we’ll face. He’s loaned Ession Strike, as it won’t adapt well to cargo transport duty.”

The CR90 corvette was well known to them, given its performance early in the Zsinj campaign and during support of some related anti-piracy operations they carried out as well.

“So it’s the four of us in A-Wings and one up-armed light carrier?” Radie asked with an eyebrow raised. “Or will we be receiving additional ships and fighters for this team, maybe Swift Liberty?”

“I’ll see what I can pull together - hopefully some Y-Wings,” Crespin answered with a tired sigh. “Don’t count on another capital ship any time soon, though - they’re in high demand, of course, and Liberty is still being repaired at Kuat. Plus Cracken is keeping a close leash on loaning out the Wraiths, especially after that debacle at Xyquine. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but we should have never given them up to Intelligence. You’ll be on your own with Ession Strike at first.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to complain much, sir. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at small unit action,” Radie told him as she broke into a crooked grin. At least she’s really happy now, Dorset thought.

Mirax joined them a few minutes later with an update from her smuggler connections - she didn’t have any new information on Imperial leadership, and hadn’t been able to convince any of them to help the New Republic with transport needs either. 

“Distrust of the fleet’s Mon Calamari commanders is still high,” she said disappointedly. “Some of the older ones have a long memory, too - they say Rebel leaders ripped them off after a run at Ylesia. Maybe Han or my father can convince the old-timers to reconsider better than I can.”

Radie hissed a curse - something Corellian - before smiling in Mirax’s direction reassuringly.

“Hopefully that will work,” Crespin went on. “A solution to these transport challenges will be vital, given how thin the fleet has been spread as a result. It could be another year before they bring new ships off the line at Kuat, and Sluis Van’s shipyard is still dedicated to repair work as well. It was a lot easier when we were fighting from hidden bases; now we’re the government - and this political infighting from the top doesn’t help either. But I shouldn’t be talking about that with you.”

The A-Wing pilots spent the next two days practicing how to use the target designation kits that could link their weapons sights with Ession Strike’s batteries. It would be essential if they got in a brawl with Star Destroyers: their speed would give Strike firing solutions quicker than the Imps could adjust their shields to compensate, and the corvette would need that edge in such a fight.

Dorset already had experience with her target designators during their battle against pirates at Djurmo, but Radie, Linna, and Commander Mayn were less familiar with the rarely used system. It relied on tight-band signals to avoid jamming, and needed the capital ship receiving them to not be engaged in direct combat with enemy vessels itself. The torpedo loadouts of other New Republic fighters made it unnecessary for their pilots, and it had only recently been developed.

Since Ession Strike was just going to carry four A-Wings in its hangar for the time being, they had added repurposed ion and proton torpedo launchers that would link with the designators. The firing tubes were over twice an A-Wing’s length and rather intimidating up close, but Atril told them it was a variation of a move the Wraiths devised at Ession called the Loran Spitball.

“You may not want to unload everything you own here,” Atril cautioned them afterward. “Given the current situation, I have orders to scuttle the Strike if we get into a jam, rather than let her fall back into Imperial hands. One of the transports could take any excess items to Gorom.”

Radie had nodded gravely, and so their models and other non-essentials were packed away.

***

Once they familiarized themselves with this new combat arrangement, General Crespin called the group of four pilots and Captain Tabanne back down for a mission briefing. They still didn’t know if the rumors Mirax reported were anywhere close to true, but at least Radie would get to be back in the field on her own terms rather than facing an ambush like the one at Xyquine II. 

Worrisome as it seemed, Dorset wondered whether Radie minded the ambush much - beyond the fact that it collapsed the planned invasion of Corellia. Lacking combat bothered her more. Dorset’s frown grew as she remembered how Radie cautioned against turning grief to a desire for revenge, even though that was Radie’s own way of coping with the losses. She had already demonstrated that advice by helping keep Dorset’s blind rage at Zsinj in check after Selaggis.

Then those memories were pushed away as the group entered Crespin’s office and sat down.

“It seems the Imperials tried to capture Skywalker, Organa, or Solo - it’s hard to know yet who the exact target was,” the general began. “They were on a diplomatic visit to Bimmisaari. Their report indicates the assault team was comprised of gray-skinned aliens about as tall as Jawas. That’s why we aren’t certain if this was the Empire or some criminal operation.”

That certainly is confusing, Dorset thought as she remembered the zealously human-centric views of the Imperial government during her childhood on Coruscant. Could they really be desperate enough to have non-human commandos on such an important assignment? If it’s true, that’s a sign we do have them against the ropes like Radie was thinking weeks ago.

“Despite Solo’s objections, we can’t allow the assault to impede Organa’s work to bring more systems into the New Republic. The Council views this as a matter of projecting our power to the Outer Rim worlds, and all that. So Ession Strike is being attached to an escort flotilla for Organa’s return back to Bimmisaari aboard the Falcon in the morning,” Crespin went on.

Tabanne scowled from her seat to the left of the A-Wing pilots - Mayn technically had a higher rank, but they were all subordinate given Atril’s role as commander of the light carrier vessel.

“Let me try to understand this - Organa is being sent back into what will almost certainly be a second ambush, with my crew assigned to protect her?” Atril questioned in a brittle tone.

“I’m just the messenger,” Crespin replied. “But yes, those are your orders from the Council.”

Atril closed her eyes in frustration for a moment. “Did Admiral Ackbar sign off on them?”

“The escort was his idea; it was the view of… another Councilor that there shouldn’t be any military detachment, in spite of the danger present,” Crespin told them. He didn’t say who, but they all could guess: Borsk Fey’lya, the Bothan leader angling for control of the New Republic. Ackbar had to fend off his grubby ways and Sian Tew’s demands they get the shiplanes active.

The least charitable interpretation here is that Fey’lya stands to benefit if the Imperials kill or capture Organa: one of Mon Mothma’s closest allies will be gone, and it would further weaken her and Ackbar’s positions. He’s already trying to win over the New Republic rank-and-file.

Dorset had tried to ignore Fey’lya’s political machinations after the Zsinj campaign, preferring the simpler matter of flying, fighting, and following orders. Even Radie, no fan of Mon Mothma, had grown to detest the meddlesome Bothan leader following his attempts to pin the Xyquine debacle on Admiral Ackbar. 

“At least we know an attack is likely,” Radie told the others in an almost cheerful tone. “Let me guess, though: we’re under rules of engagement that require them - whoever that is - to fire.”

Crespin nodded. “This is a diplomatic mission, first and foremost. The flotilla will include Strike, Mon Remonda, Rogue Squadron and almost 20 other warships. Commander Onoma will lead, but most of the ships are being pulled from the Home Fleet given the short notice.”

“Was there anything else reported about the aliens?” Mayn asked, shifting back to the attack.

“They’re very strong, were wearing cloaks, and have skull-like faces,” Crespin answered as he checked a datapad. “Their weapons included stun sticks, and they tried to avoid a shootout.”

Radie raised an eyebrow; it would have been more like the Imperials to mow down everyone in the area as a way of compelling Organa, Skywalker, and Solo’s surrender. This was different.

“You have your orders,” Crespin concluded. “At least Rogue Squadron will be there in support.”

They filed out afterward, Mayn and Tabanne leaving to return to their regular duties. That left Dorset, Radie, and Linna free to discuss their upcoming operation more candidly.

“How would you fight one of these creatures?” Linna asked Radie. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Me neither,” Radie replied. “Maybe they can’t wield blasters well or something, but I wouldn’t get into hand-to-hand combat if I can avoid it. That’s for sure.”

She reached into a pocket and removed a solid metal bracelet, locking it around her left wrist. Then Radie drew a thin cord out, demonstrating how it could be curled around her opposite hand - or tucked back into the bracelet - and lethally wrapped across an opponent’s throat. 

“Kriff, Radie - you’d really use that thing?” Linna asked, her eyes widening. Even Dorset - more familiar with Radie’s collection of blasters for every range of combat - was still startled by it.

“Only if necessary,” Radie assured Linna specifically. But the look she gave Dorset made it clear that had happened before. “There’s no sense in fighting just hand-to-hand when I don’t have to.”

“What do you think of Solo now that he’s left Fleet Command?” Linna asked both of them as a way of changing topics, although she was again looking to Radie as a Corellian.

Radie smiled wryly at the question. “It took him awhile to finally come around to the Rebel cause but I’m glad he did. Shame he’s left the fleet, though I understand why since Organa won’t quit. I don’t blame Solo for this, but it can be annoying that the holoreels talk like the Big Three - him, Organa, and Skywalker - did most of the work getting us where we are now. Even the Rogues’ role is understated lately, let alone everyone who died destroying both of the Death Stars. They just get to be remembered as footnotes in the Galactic Museum displays here on Coruscant.”

At least Radie’s tone is sad rather than angry or annoyed, Dorset thought.

“Solo was a good field commander during the Zsinj campaign,” she told Radie and Linna to keep moving the conversation forward. “But there’s plenty of others to fill the gaps now, even though Ackbar is mainly stuck on Coruscant working with the Provisional Council. Radie won’t agree on all of them, but we’ve got Nantz, Krane, Tantor, Scaur, and also Drayson.”

Radie was particularly scornful of the last name on that list, given his perceived failures during the battle at Xyquine, but she said nothing about it here - probably because Linna was present.

Once the Naboo pilot had left, though, Radie stepped closer as she fiddled with the cuffs of her red flightsuit worriedly then gathered her flame-colored hair back into the usual ponytail. 

“Dors - watch your back out there. If the Empire can get some unknown alien race to work for them, then anyone aboard Strike or down on Bimmisaari could launch an insider attack too.”

Chapter Text

3

Bimmisaari had been the planned destination, until a series of overlapping Imp attacks forced the flotilla to divert for Bpfassh. All three hit-and-fades were in the vicinity of Sluis Van, but the shipyards were well defended. Dorset still thought something felt wrong about all this though.

“Since when did the Empire restrict itself to surgical strikes?” she asked Radie, Linna, and Mayn as they flew over the smoking crater where a power plant used to be on the surface. “This could have killed tens of thousands, not hundreds. And how’d they hit three spots in unison like that?”

They were largely rhetorical questions; the other A-Wing pilots didn’t have any more answers than Dorset. Unless Commander Mayn knew something and wasn’t telling them about it.

“They’re fighting like the Alliance did,” Radie said over the comm as they circled back around in a largely useless defensive formation. The Imps were long gone by now, the damage complete.

“Hit and fades, hiding in the Outer Rim - that’s the way the Rebels fought,” she went on. “I don’t know how they coordinated the strikes though. Probably some high-end communications tech. Not that their avoidance of massacres is bad, but it could mean they do have new leadership.”

“You haven’t received any transmissions lately, have you?” Mayn interrupted to the three pilots. Their ground team included Organa, Solo, and Commander Antilles as well as other officials.

“Negative,” Radie answered first as she shifted fully into combat mode rather than small talk. “I can fly down and check it out if you want - looks like the Falcon is headed to meet the ground team but I’m getting a weird transponder code reading. Standby while I adjust my IFF sensors.”

“Spitfire Leader to Rogue Two, sitrep?” Mayn asked Tycho Celchu on the comm, using Linna’s suggested name for their interim group of four. With Antilles on the ground examining damage, the rest of Rogue Squadron’s First Flight was parked off site waiting for possible action as well.

“Unknown at this time,” Celchu responded. “I’ve received no response on Wedge’s comlink - he may be busy in a meeting. Wait, we’re seeing an improvised distress call. Better get down here.”

“Wilco,” Mayn answered as she led the A-Wings in nosing over and diving for the surface on full afterburners. But the action was over by the time they reached the deck and hovered for strikes against ground targets. The Falcon was pluming white smoke - except it wasn’t the Falcon.

The YT-1300 freighter had skidded across the ground and was unoccupied, with the delegation standing around it. Solo and Antilles still had blasters in hand, while Organa’s lightsaber was off but ready as well. The A-Wings landed and the four pilots climbed out as Radie warily checked the edges of the crater for movement, gripping her own blaster in its thigh holster.

“What happened?” Mayn asked first; YT-1300 freighters were hard to find these days.

“The Imps tried to pull a Falsehood,” Antilles explained. “Those mystery commandos fired on us from the ridgeline, as part of a ploy to get us aboard. Leia figured it out through the Force.”

“That and the lack of an underbelly defensive cannon I put on the real Falcon,” Solo interjected.  

Dorset and Linna shared an amused glance over the relentless desire for customizations that most smugglers had, while Radie was nodding appreciatively and studying the YT-1300 wreck.

“We should try to haul this back and see if it can be traced,” Radie told Commanders Mayn and Antilles once she had finished her examination. Dorset suspected Radie would be angling for the salvage rights if it had been a YT-2000. She does have a point, where’d the Imps get this?

They did take the YT-1300 with them, since its coolant lines could be replaced, but it took four days before they left Bpfassh. The real Falcon left on its own ahead of schedule as well. Solo had been grumbling about how Page’s commandos or the Wraiths could protect Leia and her unborn children better on the ground, and eventually decided to just do it himself. The rumors that Imperial Intelligence had another leak inside New Republic command unnerved them all.

Once recovery work was complete, they returned to Ession Strike and joined up with the New Republic Star Destroyers Swift Liberty and Freedom. The three ships were hunting for ISDs.

***

Commander Areta Bell was 27 and had joined the Rebel Alliance a year after Yavin, according to Radie. She’d been a navigator on the GR-75 Dutyfree and distinguished herself well at Hoth, propelling a quick rise through the ranks in the post-Endor years. Rumor had it Bell was on the short list for admiralty track despite her age, Radie said with pride since she was also Corellian.

Radie had been assigned to Swift Liberty for its Corellia mission, and Bell’s performance as the acting captain during the Imperial ambush at Xyquine had certainly left an impression on her.

“From what I’ve heard, Liberty has one squadron each of Z-95 Headhunters and shielded TIEs, along with six B-Wings and eight Y-Wings - maybe your friend from Nova Squadron during the Zsinj hunt will be one of them,” Radie told Linna in amusement before looking serious again.

“At Xyquine, Bell had to give the order to launch all of Liberty’s fighters and bombers and a lot didn’t come back. Scuttlebutt is that made her more cautious about deployment against ISDs.”

Both Bell and Captain Tabanne had risen to command in the heat of battle: Swift Liberty’s former commander, Admiral Kir Vantai of Duros, was injured at Xyquine II. Choday Hrakness, on the other hand, was killed when Strike - then the Night Caller - lost its main bridge at Talasea.

Atril Tabanne was more daring, based on Dorset’s experience. She had returned to flying a TIE Fighter in Antilles’ place at Ession, then led the Strike to victories at Djurmo and against a pirate Nebulon-B light carrier twice its size during the battle of Abraxas.

The third captain in their hunting party was Commander Sair Yonka, who like Tabanne had been an Imperial officer assigned to fight pirates rather than the Rebellion at first. Once Ysanne Isard took over, Yonka was recalled to attack the nascent New Republic instead and didn’t defect until the Thyferra campaign. His Star Destroyer was heavily damaged there, but had completed its repairs at Fondor and was back in the fight after more than two years.

Radie and Dorset hadn’t been familiar with Yonka’s story, but Linna had all the details given her time in Captain Pash Cracken’s Ace Squadron and its role in the Thyferra victory. The fact that he had been intercepted by Antilles during a nighttime meeting with a moff’s wife - as arranged by an agent of New Republic Intelligence - was particularly amusing to Linna.

“At least NRI didn’t have an agent undercover as the wife,” Radie said with a shake of her head. “Don’t put that past General Cracken if he thought it could yield valuable intelligence.”

Dorset blinked in surprise, then nodded in relief that they were pilots and not part of the Wraiths.

***

Ession Strike had already exchanged its first salvo with the opposing Star Destroyer, and Dorset fidgeted in the A-Wing’s cockpit as she waited for approval to launch. Incoming fire flashed red against the corvette’s shields, and she heard a noise like thunder as its batteries delivered their new round of outgoing shots. These hangar torpedo tubes will be almost deafening as they fire.

Finally Tabanne gave the order and the four A-Wings rocketed out of the hangar, swinging into a rearguard formation that would scare off the regular TIE Fighters harassing Strike’s aft engines. The corvette was easily outrunning the Star Destroyer, but the A-Wings still pushed through the TIE formation to get the farthest effective targeting lock aimed just below its command bridge.

“Activate your designators - now!” Commander Mayn ordered just as Strike turned 90 degrees and received firing sequences from the A-Wings. The first torpedo salvo would bring down their shields, and the second one would be on its way before the Star Destroyer’s crew could adjust.

“Okay, okay - halt that exercise,” Commander Bell ordered over the multi-ship comm channel as Swift Liberty ended its staged pursuit. “Strike, good work baiting us into the torpedo barrage. All fighters, land in your assigned hangars and prepare for group-wide debrief in 20 minutes.”

The A-Wings turned back and touched down almost as quickly as they had scrambled away, to further show off their speed. Then they hurried to the briefing room and joined Captain Tabanne. 

Atril had brown hair like Commander Mayn - but worn in a low bun rather than cut short like Mayn’s - and green eyes that radiated poise. She nodded to the pilots as they stood on her right side, then directed her attention back to the holoprojector.

Commander Bell’s image was starting to appear, and even through the blue tint Dorset could tell she had red hair somewhat similar to Radie. Bell held most of it in a long braid, aside from wisps that framed her face, while Radie’s was usually just put back into a loose ponytail. The distortion and their angled position left it unclear what color her eyes were, but Radie probably knew that.   

The leader of Liberty’s starfighter group, a dark-haired man whose posture signaled ex-Imperial, stood alongside her but they hadn’t been introduced yet. He’d likely flown a TIE in the exercise.

Commander Yonka had also joined the debrief, though the Freedom had been an observer. His black hair and goatee were starting to show streaks of white, even if Yonka didn’t look that old. 

“Atril - well done maintaining fire during the retreat. Most CR90s don’t have that many batteries so we could catch an ISD by surprise,” Bell said after reviewing a recording of the engagement. 

“It might also improve the deception if we set our Star Destroyers out in a screen, make it look like the CR90 is trying to make the jump to lightspeed,” Yonka pointed out to the others.

“I have to admit, I don’t like that this rests on the idea of Strike running away,” Tabanne said for a bit of humor. “Still, the Star Destroyers covering our retreat would help sell the tactic.”

“Our fighters should be able to give the four of you enough cover to designate the targets,” the head of Liberty’s improvised wing added. “Let’s meet over dinner and discuss this further.”

***

Thankfully the dinner with Liberty’s pilots didn’t require dress uniforms, and so Dorset and Radie wore custom flightsuits they had received from Linna back on Coruscant. Linna wore her own as well, while Commander Mayn kept to the standard orange flightsuit of Starfighter Command.

Brevet Captain Chea Sedgwik from Carida commanded Liberty’s wing and its Gray Squadron of shielded TIEs, and his unit wore flightsuits that matched the name. The Star Destroyer was also home to Rover Squadron, with a full dozen Z-95 Headhunters, and the partial squadrons Thorn and Raven with eight Y-Wings and six B-Wings, respectively. 

Raven Squadron included Linna’s old flame from the Zsinj hunt, Flight Officer Nir Pulastra, and the two were happy to be reunited. He’d previously been in Nova Squadron, but it lost a number of pilots during the Battle of Selaggis as well. Owen Nordan, his wingmate and Dorset’s onetime dance partner during the night Antilles led a morale-boosting mutiny, had also transferred over to Raven. Nordan was scheduled on alert duty during the dinner, though, so he couldn’t attend.

It was just as well - Dorset had been too focused on combat missions to give him much thought then, and now seemed even less viable. Maybe someday, when the damn war is finally over… 

Commander Mayn was talking to Sedgwik about their battle tactics now, as Dorset glanced over the rows of Liberty pilots. This was meant as a “getting to know each other” exercise - but with Linna off catching up with Pulastra and their leaders occupied, Dorset would have to take point. Radie was there in person rather than spirit: she had been hesitant to connect with most of her fellow pilots in Blue Squadron at Folor, and would be even more wary of knowing Liberty’s wing.

Stars, half of them look just out of flight school - no wonder Radie’s being standoffish again and Bell is said to be so protective. Guess I am flying alone here.

“Okay, kids, gather round. I’m Dors Konnair of Coruscant - let me tell you about the time some friends and I tricked a Star Destroyer into chasing us…”   

Thirty minutes later, she’d gotten the veteran members of the group to share their own stories at least. Syrra Ried had been an A-Wing pilot stationed aboard the New Republic Star Destroyer Emancipator during Admiral Ackbar’s battles against Rogriss and the warlord Treuten Teradoc. Ried had been injured, and took a step down to lead Liberty’s Z-95 squadron while recovering.

Lyyr Zatoq, leader of Rover Squadron’s Second Flight, was a capable pilot even if she had been promoted and demoted for disciplinary issues. The Quarren dreamed of getting a slot in Rogue Squadron, and Dorset helpfully pointed out that Antilles was willing to overlook checkered pasts.

Braylen Stramm had been the executive officer of Blade Squadron during their Zsinj hunt, then took over Raven Squadron after it was created from the pilots of Blade and Nova squadrons. It pained Dorset to hear that all three squadron commanders were brevet captains, while the six Y-Wings were led by a mere lieutenant. Xyquine must have been terrible for the bomber crews.

Chapter Text

4

Dorset wiped at a bead of sweat on her forehead as she waited for the signal to launch again. This was a real battle; Ession Strike had seemingly blundered into an Imperial staging ground with three Star Destroyers - one ISD-II and a pair of Victory-class ISDs. Now it was running off, to Captain Tabanne’s frustration, with the ImpStar Deuce and its TIE Fighters in close pursuit.

They were waiting for Freedom and Swift Liberty, which would take on the Victory I ISDs with ease while Ession Strike and the A-Wings contained the ISD-II Provocateur chasing them toward Atravis V. The blue-gray planet loomed large behind them, and Strike was already inside its gravity well. This was a daring gambit, using the corvette as bait for all three Star Destroyers while avoiding the civilian ships headed toward and away from the further in-system Atravis III.

“Support is 45 seconds out - launch and prep firing solutions. Good hunting, Spitfires,” Atril told them over the comm as their A-Wings took off in unison. They raced through the TIE formation that had been battering Strike’s shields, picking off a few fighters along the way. Both of the Vic Star Destroyers remained at their stations, a disconcerting show of discipline over glory seeking.

Dorset and Radie brought up their designators with 15 seconds left, confirming target locks for the ISD-II’s bridge so Strike could fire in sequence. The corvette was bringing its hangar tubes to bear on the much larger ship, and all four A-Wings veered off with their work complete.

The maneuver saved their lives.

The first torpedo salvo impacted Provocateur’s shields, nearly bringing them down. The second was on the way to finish that when another ImpStar Deuce, Gray Wolf, jumped in while angled sideways to ensure its shields could be angled to take the salvo with little effect. If they hadn’t pulled out, their A-Wings would have been crushed against the new Star Destroyer’s hull.

“Omega signal!” Tabanne ordered, clearly rattled as the ISD-II had jumped in across the gravity well and cut them off completely. “Pull back, tell the others to abort now-”

But it was too late. 

Swift Liberty and Freedom dropped out of hyperspace, positioned above the two Victory Star Destroyers like points on a triangle. It was the perfect angle to attack, but their targets began moving immediately to run closer toward the battle between Strike, Provocateur, and Wolf.

They were disciplined before, why are they rushing into a fight that’s already mismatched now? Dorset’s confusion turned to even greater terror as she realized the New Republic destroyers were in pursuit, trying to help Strike against the two Imp-Star Deuces boxing it in. We’re kriffed.

Sure enough, a third ISD-II - tagged as Agonizer, a truly charming name - jumped in behind Freedom and Swift Liberty. It and Provocateur focused on Freedom; the two Victory Star Destroyers moved to bracket Liberty; and Gray Wolf hemmed Strike in with Atravis V at its back. Even worse, the planet had no atmosphere so they couldn’t go to ground there as a last-ditch effort.

Commander Bell was speaking on a fleetwide comm channel, pleading for any available New Republic forces in the immediate vicinity to assist. Damn it, that should be Strike’s job as the rapid reaction team. Instead we’re in the middle of this clusterkriff. How’d they outsmart us?

And now Provocateur was launching its full TIE complement: three squadrons of Interceptors aimed for them and another 36 bombers to attack Ession Strike. They were outnumbered nine to one, with no backup expected and the fighters of Freedom and Liberty occupied as well.

“Todra, w-what do we do?” Linna asked, her usual bravado gone and replaced with clear terror.

Commander Mayn was silent, unable to come up with an answer. Dorset couldn’t blame Mayn; her own mouth felt as dry as the sands of Tatooine. She focused on her sensor board: where the other A-Wings were and how soon the TIEs would arrive. How long they might have left.

“We fight,” Radie answered grimly instead. “Until they’re dead or we are. You can do whatever you have to, but I’m not surrendering.”

“She’s right,” Mayn finally responded. “Form up and try to hide behind Strike’s starboard, where we’ll be safe from turbolaser fire. The TIEs will have to engage there as well, we can cover it.”

Strike was racing at flank speed on an outbound vector that would hopefully get it clear of the Star Destroyer’s barrage, but its shields were already crackling under fire. It would be lucky to survive. Liberty and Freedom were attempting to turn around as well, too hemmed in to assist the CR90 corvette or its four A-Wing escorts.

“Get out of here,” Atril was telling Bell and Yonka. “Your ships are more valuable by far.”

Dorset winced - if they did need to scuttle the Strike, her crew would have no hope of rescue. The stories of Imperial captivity and interrogation were bad enough, but with their lead Star Destroyer named Agonizer… she understood why Radie favored a blaze of glory instead.

They raced through a stream of incoming shots from the TIE Interceptors and then braked hard once they’d gotten behind Ession Strike for cover. Now they would have to keep up with Strike, while avoiding sustained fire from the rear and trying to protect it from the TIE Bombers. 

“Wheel formation,” Mayn ordered swiftly. They began flying in a staggered loop behind Strike’s side, so one A-Wing was facing the rear at all times and could quickly engage any Interceptors that tried to get behind them. That didn’t do much to combat the threat of TIE Bombers, but the point defense guns on Strike would have to fill the gap. They were all fighting for their lives.

“We’ve pushed out of the gravity well,” Bell told them over the comm. “Transmitting hyperspace coordinates - recommend you use the Cracken Twist if you make it that far. Good luck, Strike.”

Her voice was heavy with regret, knowing she was probably leaving them to die. Dorset sighed, looking at her reflection in the cockpit - the arching, multi-tint blue star-flare around her aqua-colored right eye, the straggly black hair sticking out of the sides of her blue and red leather flight helmet, her small scars. At least I’ll go out flying, Dorset thought as she saw and felt a tear well in her eye. 

Even if we cut and run out on Ession Strike, we won’t clear the gravity well in time. It’s bad enough if this is it - but what if I somehow survive, again? Her eyes shifted to the other A-Wings in formation while visions of Selaggis came roaring back. What if I have to see my best friends die all over again, when they got me through it all last time. I’ll have no one left who understands the losses. I’ll be alone.

If we can’t get out of this together, then just let Radie and Linna live, Dorset thought pleadingly. 

They had already taken out seven squints and managed pop-up shots on three dupes, but the TIE Interceptors were regrouping for a swarm attack that would rip through their rotating formation.

Ession Strike was in bad shape as well - an errant turbolaser blast had gotten under its shields and hit the hangar, blowing up half the torpedo launch tubes inside. The chain of explosions had nearly broken the corvette’s spine, but it was still under power and trying to clear the gravity well as quickly as it could. That would happen in 70 seconds… if they lasted that long.

Tetengo’s sister and Taryn would be the ones to get the death notification. Stars, maybe Taryn will be the courier who’s tasked with delivering it. Dorset blinked new tears away at the mental image of Taryn curiously opening a letter to herself at work and then dropping it in shock.

“Four to Group - I show incoming contacts on our six!” Linna shouted with relief. “New Republic transponders!”

Dorset squinted, checking her sensors to make sure this wasn’t some false hope. Swift Liberty and Freedom had already jumped into hyperspace with their fighters. Where the kriff are they coming from, and does it really matter?

The group divided into 10 separate contacts, each tagged as X-Wings. Whoever they were, they could hold off the 29 Interceptors and 25 Bombers about to kill the A-Wings and Ession Strike. Dorset sighed, putting her power into engines and racing alongside the battered CR90.

A quick look back showed the X-Wings were falling on the TIEs in a flurry, and one with regular red markings fought with particular aggression. Most others carried dark gray stripes - no kriffing way, Dorset thought as she activated her comm to a general New Republic frequency. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be our friends from Mon Remonda?” Dorset asked vaguely in case the Imps were listening in. Just to be safe, she transmitted the original coordinates and the Cracken Twist message to the group of 10 X-Wings.

“That’s right,” Lieutenant Kell Tainer responded. “Strike, how are you doing down there?”

“She’s holding together,” Atril said after a moment, her voice strained. “Half the crew are walking wounded, including me, but we can make the jump. Let’s get the kriff out of here, everyone.”

***

Sliding down from her interceptor, Dorset ran over - hands already starting to shake under the gloves - and grabbed Radie and Linna together. Hugging them tightly, she rested her chin on their shoulders and cried with relief a bit. Stars above, we all actually made it through alive.

Some of the Wraiths were climbing out of their X-Wings as well, and Dorset wordlessly nodded Thank you toward Face and Kell. Linna was patting her back, while Radie said the Imps would have to throw more than three squadrons of TIE Interceptors out to kill them next time.

Dorset winced once she broke from the embrace and looked into the fire-blackened hole where Strike’s hangar had been. The CR90 had set down inside Swift Liberty’s hangar, along with the four A-Wings and the Wraiths, once they reached their rendezvous point. 

Both Liberty and Freedom had taken heavy damage, with the latter Star Destroyer’s hyperdrive offline amid repairs. They were limping toward the Sluis Van shipyards on sublight engines, and a mobile maintenance team had been dispatched to help patch them up along the way.

Commander Bell had greeted them as they came aboard, focusing on Tabanne specifically. Atril wore a stained bandage wrapped tight around her forehead and was limping slightly, but refused to leave the hangar before the rest of her crew, both living and dead, had made it off the CR90. Finally she agreed to proper medical care, and Bell turned around to face the pilots.

“Commander Mayn, I’m folding your group into Liberty’s wing since Strike needs a full rebuild of its hangar. Captain Loran - I know you’re not part of Starfighter Command but my squadrons are mostly new recruits. We could use your pilots, if General Cracken allows it,” Bell told them.

Face looked around at the Wraiths and received nods, then turned back to Bell. “We’ll stay, as long as we don’t receive new orders. Elscol - are you still heading back out?”

An auburn-haired woman standing beside the red-striped X-Wing nodded, and Dorset realized she’d seen her before when the Wraiths returned from their failed Corellia undercover mission. 

“I’ll go back and link up with Sixtus, see what more we can do to stir up trouble on the ground,” the woman answered. “Hey Deena - you coming along too?”

Elscol’s question was directed toward a sandy-blonde woman with hair about as long as Dorset’s, though more orderly. She’d been talking to Linna, and whether they knew each other previously or were both just chatty remained a mystery for later. The woman nodded, getting back in her black-striped X-Wing and taking off gingerly. She must be new to snubfighters, Dorset thought. 

“I hope the rest of you are staying,” Bell told the Wraiths mildly as she looked at their X-Wings. The Z-95 Headhunters and Y-Wings of Liberty’s flight wing were all outdated by comparison.

Loran nodded. “We will - those were just two potential new members on a tryout period. As you probably heard, Wraith Squadron doesn’t exactly follow the usual command protocol structure.”

Bell sighed, chewing on her fingernail worriedly. “Understood - I wish you still had Commander Antilles with you. That would be an even greater morale boost to my pilots, no offense.”

“None taken,” Face said back. “What were you doing here, anyway? We scouted the area three days ago and warned about the Star Destroyer movements. If we hadn’t been staged on Tosste for recon of Mustafar, we would never have gotten here on time.”

Bell’s expression froze, then she pulled out her comlink. “Lieutenant Tal’kina, transmit an urgent holo to Command - I wish to speak with them as soon as possible. And tell Captain Tabanne in medical that she may want to be there, she’s earned the right. Besides, I still need an XO.”

Swinging back around, the now irate commander looked to Face and Kell. “It’s probably best to continue this conversation with senior staff only - Todra, who’s your executive officer?”

Commander Mayn glanced between Dorset and Radie - Linna had disappeared off somewhere, probably relieving the stress of their near-death engagement - and then settled on Dorset. She stepped forward, after getting a reassuring smile from Radie that there were no hard feelings.

***

“Let me understand - you filed a report three days ago that there were five Star Destroyers in the area?” Areta Bell asked Face and Kell icily as she studied an image of the enemy ships.

The two Wraiths exchanged a wary look, both stiffening to full attention.

“Seven, actually,” Face answered. “Ma’am, our report was logged with NRI Command at 2100 that day and would have been transmitted to Fleet Command by the following morning, two days ago. I can’t speak for what would have happened after that.”

Bell was chewing on a fingernail again as she nodded. “This isn’t on you, Captain. I’ll find out who’s responsible shortly and bring it up to them. Comm, patch me through to the holo board.”

Dorset gulped as she exchanged a glance with Commander Mayn - the holo call included Sair Yonka, General Crespin, General Cracken, Admiral Nantz, and Admiral Ackbar. Atril had made it up to Bell’s office and was standing on crutches alongside her and the pilots as well.

“Commander, I’m not sure what this is about since we haven’t received a report on Atravis - but it’s most irregular to demand a call with High Command,” Nantz said helpfully. “I highly suggest you take a minute to think about what you have to say, put it in writing, and then give it further thought. We’ve only tolerated this up to now because of your eight years of service.”

“Kriff that,” Bell answered bitterly, and Dorset heard Mayn gasp. Yonka and Crespin both looked slack-jawed in their holos as well, while Nantz’s expression was one of disappointment.

“I’ll tell you what’s most irregular,” the commander - at least for now - went on. “You ordered our force, just two Star Destroyers and a CR90 corvette, to engage an Imperial installation knowing it had as many as eight Star Destroyers available. Four were ISD-IIs like Yonka’s Freedom.”

Dorset spared a glance in Yonka’s direction - the former Imperial was silent and clearly wanted very much not to be part of this. That’s why Bell is taking point, her criticism can’t be dismissed as anti-alien bias. And she’s got us here so word gets out, in case this is the end of her career.

“You knew this, based on the Wraiths’ report, and you still sent us in heavily outgunned. Even if it’s the last act of my tenure, I want to know why I lost 147 people today, including three pilots, and what I should write their families about it. You look Captain Tabanne here in the eye and tell her why her ship was almost blown in half today. Sair, how many people did you lose?”

“At least 184 - we’re still counting. Most of them to hull breaches that were barely contained.”

Nantz raised a hand; he’d been the one to order Strike to link up with the two Star Destroyers and attack the Imperials at Atravis. “Commander, I don’t know anything about this NRI report. Perhaps we should discuss this among ourselves here and then relay what we find.”

“Again, kriff that.” Bell growled. “I’m not interested in some coverup, I want to know how this command breakdown happened - and they all deserve to hear it too.”

Dorset felt herself sweating again, even though her career wasn’t in danger - Commander Bell was on some incredibly thin ice with no willingness to back away. Officers almost never get to berate their superiors like this, and certainly not with junior personnel listening as well.

Nantz was about to dispense with the politeness and remind Bell of her place in the structure of First Fleet when Ackbar raised an outsized hand and blinked in shame with both eyes.

“The Intelligence reports for that day were received while I was preparing for a Council meeting. I may not have read them fully before updating Admiral Nantz,” Ackbar said with regret. “You have my apologies, Commander. I understand your comments reflect concern for your people.”

Bell sighed, recognizing that Ackbar was putting his reputation further at risk with the admission. Fey’lya’s people would have a field day if they found out about this, Dorset thought worriedly.

“Understood,” Bell said tiredly as she turned to the others. “Don’t share a word of this, got it?”

Chapter Text

5

Commander Bell had warned them not to tell anyone about Admiral Ackbar’s revelation that his failure to read an Intelligence report led them to attack a superior Imperial force and suffer a lot of casualties, but Dorset felt she couldn’t keep it from Radie and an even more curious Linna. 

What’s the worst that’ll happen? Radie can’t stand Fey’lya, and Linna knows not to talk about it. I’m only Mayn’s XO in a nominal way; Linna has the longevity but doesn’t seem mature enough. 

Besides, Linna kept pestering Dorset for more information as she recombed her tousled hair - she’d missed seeing Bell find out about the Wraiths’ reconnaissance of the Atravis system.

“Okay,” Dorset said as Radie stopped pacing and joined them on the bench seat in their room. Dorset didn’t dare tell this story out in the open, and started by reminding them it was secret.

“The Wraiths reported they had seen as many as eight Star Destroyers in the system, including four ImpStar Deuces. We were lucky Atravis didn’t turn out even worse. But Ackbar missed their report and it was never relayed to Admiral Nantz, who dispatched us and the Star Destroyers.”

“Kriff - I see why this would be so damaging,” Linna said grimly. “I promise not to tell anyone.”

Radie nodded warily. “It could be even worse. What if one of Fey’lya’s people sliced into the briefing docs for the day and removed that entry to set him up? I could see Ackbar admitting fault even when it wasn’t his mistake, to avoid the scandal that would cause.”

“You really think Fey’lya would stoop that low?” Dorset asked worriedly. “It’s basically treason.”

“At this point I’m not sure I put anything past his camp, but I’m a pessimist. The only question is who they think would replace Ackbar as fleet commander for them. They may be overestimating their options on that, and there aren’t any Bothan military leaders qualified to promote into it. So, how’d Commander Bell react when she found out?” Radie added with a feigned lightness.

Dorset grinned at her. “You’re gonna love it - before Ackbar’s explanation, she chewed out the whole lot of them: him, Cracken, Nantz. The Wraiths were lucky to just be the messengers.”

Radie looked enthralled, dropping her earlier pretense. “Wow, she really will go to any lengths for her crew. I liked Bell before, but damn.”

Dorset shifted her gaze over to Linna, sharing an amused expression over Radie’s interest. Too bad we’re now technically under Bell’s command until Strike is repaired and back in service.

***

The next morning, the A-Wing pilots were finishing a round of sabacc with some of the Wraiths in the shadow of their fighters when two shuttles containing the maintenance crew arrived.

“Come on,” Face said helpfully once the group of techs filed out. “We were about to go, we’ll hold the next elevator. Commander Bell will have a better rundown of what needs fixed.”

The group - including Face, Kell, Tyria, Shalla, and Elassar - was leaving the hangar in a cargo elevator together when Tyria suddenly raised an eyebrow and glanced toward the mechanics.

“Since you’re all in the fleet’s Maintenance Section, we may have a friend in common - Qatya Nassin from Kuat. I think we met two years ago. That was her name, right, Shalla?”

The leader of the mechanics, a burly human male, shook his head with a grunt. They included a pair of Bith, one Shistavanen, and three Quarren, all wearing stained coveralls given their work.

While the mechanics hadn’t recognized the name themselves, Dorset could tell it drew an odd reaction among the Wraiths. They appeared casual but had a growingly tense look in their eyes.

Something’s wrong here. Dorset glanced toward Radie and Linna in confusion. Linna seemed to be unaware of whatever was happening, but Radie had a wary expression like the Wraiths.

The group of mechanics left their elevator first, getting out on the same floor as Swift Liberty’s auxiliary bridge. But the Wraiths started following them rather than going up to their quarters.

Now Linna was visibly confused too, even if she didn’t ask the Wraiths about it either. The three A-Wing pilots followed at the end of the group, and Dorset nearly bumped into Kell when he and the other Wraiths started to slow down unexpectedly. They were near a section of control pods, with a short corridor parallel to Dorset, Radie, and Linna’s place at the back of the group.

The maintenance team were standing further down the hall now, waiting for them to catch up. Both groups had fanned out, moving close to the pods along the wall and eyeing each other.

Face glanced back past Linna and Dorset to where Radie now stood between them, and Dorset saw Radie give him a short nod and step back a pace. What the kriff is going on?

Then it began.

Radie reached up and grabbed Dorset and Linna by their collars, half-dragging them along as she spun around into the corridor. The Wraiths were quickly pulling out their blasters, but the maintenance team had done the same and each side fired a few inaccurate shots as they took cover behind the control pods. One of the Quarren started running toward a rear corridor, but Radie slid out and shot him three times through the back. The two Bith fired at her and missed.

“Radie, what did you just do?” Linna asked, her eyes wide with fear. 

“They’re imposters - it’s a kriffing prize crew trying to steal the ship and sell it to the Imps,” she answered, pulling out her holdout blaster and handing it over to Dorset. “They’ve jammed our comlinks, of course. Dors, stay behind Kell. I’m gonna get you out of here, Linna - find any ship personnel with blasters you can and send them down here. They’ll try to cut life support if they seize control of the auxiliary bridge, so we’re Swift Liberty’s only hope. You two ready?”

Linna gave a shaky nod, and Radie pulled her up. Face motioned for the Wraiths to provide a volley of covering fire as the pair took off running into the open. Radie blasted away with her DL-44 too, preventing the ship thieves from getting any accurate shots in their direction.

Once Radie and Linna were in the opposite corridor, they manually opened an access panel in the ceiling. Dorset watched as Linna helped Radie clamber up into the overhead tube, then she took off running to find any security teams. I don’t know what Radie’s doing, but we need help.

The one benefit to their current predicament was that the group shooting at them couldn’t afford to move into better positions either. Instead, they exchanged poorly-aimed shots back and forth that left burn marks in the walls behind each section. Dorset did as she was told, hiding behind a workstation and sticking her arm up to fire blindly every few seconds. The DL-25 blaster was small but at least she was used to it from initial training and later required practice.

Finally Dorset saw Radie come back - somewhat. The Corellian was leaning partway out of the hatch behind the ship thieves, holding her DL-44 in one hand while the other supported herself.

The Wraiths began firing more rapidly, keeping the thieves distracted while Radie carefully shot both of the Bith, the Shistavanen and one of the Quarren through the back of the head. She hit their human leader in each shoulder, while Face and Kell caught the last Quarren with stun bolts as he tried to charge toward them. The Wraiths jumped up and moved in after that. All clear.

Radie swung down out of the hatch, holstering her DL-44 and kicking the leader’s Relby blaster away. Elassar turned off the comlink jammer, and Linna returned not long after with two squads.

***

Ten minutes later, they’d been brought before Commander Bell, her security chief Stoyvins, and Captain Tabanne. None of them looked happy over what happened, even if the ship was safe.

“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here,” Bell said, clearly displeased as she looked around the group of pilots. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got five dead mechanics plus two in the infirmary under guard. You’re here as part of the starfighter detachment, not security. Now what, exactly, led to this shootout? Thankfully word hasn’t spread all around Swift Liberty yet.”

Face stepped forward as the leader of the Wraiths. “Commander, we - well, Lieutenant Sarkin primarily - suspected the maintenance team were not who they claimed. I can’t give full details in this setting, but if you check our classified unit history for the incident on Coruscant…”

Bell raised a hand. “Yes, I’ve reviewed those records. It’s part of why you’re not in the brig right now. Lieutenant: what led you to this conclusion? Was it the way they acted or what they said?” 

“It was… a feeling in the Force. I sensed danger and greed when they joined us in the elevator. My hope was that it would be nothing, though I alerted the others by mentioning a cover name used during the Zsinj campaign. Unfortunately they pulled their blasters as quickly as we did, so there wasn’t a chance to validate their clearance cards. Their actions and jamming equipment do lend credence to my suspicions, I might add, even if you haven’t had time to learn more.”

“We’re checking their identities as fast as we can,” Bell replied. “I’m not ungrateful about this, to be clear. It’s just a precarious situation all around. Now, Lieutenant Felian - good work sneaking through the tunnel. You were stationed aboard Swift Liberty during the Corellia operation, yes?”

Radie smiled slightly and nodded. “Thank you, ma’am - I’m glad you remember.”

“Be that as it may, I’d like to know why you didn’t stun them - given your position at the rear. They may have given up valuable intelligence at trial.” Bell’s voice was ice cold, and Dorset winced knowing her friend’s ruthlessness might have finally caught up to her. 

The smile evaporated from Radie’s face. “Apologies, Commander: I’d modified the blaster to have a short burst capability in place of the stun setting. My thought was that two prisoners would be enough to hold for questioning. And my DL-44 is a personal weapon, not issued.”

Bell shifted her gaze over to Stoyvins. “Is that allowed under New Republic regulations?”

“Commander, they do still permit the use of non-duty weapons - it’s a holdover from Alliance policy. Not to mention the old issue of lightsabers. Rules are silent on such modifications.”

“Then I’ll allow it, but I want an inventory of all the blasters you have onboard by 2100. You’re not one of the Wraiths, Lieutenant Felian. Maybe you could be… but that’s up to Loran here.”

Radie grinned again at Bell’s comment, while the commander shifted her gaze back to Tyria.

“I believe what you’ve told us, but I can’t put that in my report. Officially, you recognized this group from one of your classified Intelligence missions and that was the basis of suspicion. Right now the Imperials are doing everything they can to kidnap Skywalker and Organa, so should word get out that you had such Force capability - and it would given the leaks - we’d have a target on our backs. Lieutenant Horn probably has this problem too, but the lothcat’s gone out of the bag there. And I don’t want my people thinking that the crew member next to them could be working for the Empire. Morale’s on a blade-edge fleetwide already,” Bell said.

She dismissed them, but kept Tabanne there to further discuss the situation. Mayn joined the group outside the briefing room, now that she’d cleared the shipwide security hold, and led a visibly shaken Linna away. Radie and Dorset sat down next to Tyria, while Face and Kell had gone off to notify General Cracken of the incident via a secure holo channel.

***

“So - what all can you sense from people’s minds through the Force?” Dorset asked Tyria. “Is that limited to just feelings or do you read entire thoughts?” I hope she didn’t know what I was thinking of Kell before they got together. Then again, she probably would have mentioned it.

“Just fragments - I can tell you’re both nervous about this, but that’s more a reflection of body language than Force sensitivity,” Tyria answered with a grin before she looked a bit somber.

“I’ve heard there was one Force-sensitive who had an ability to read thoughts, but by the time Skywalker found him it was gone. He’s a Corellian ex-smuggler named BoShek, and had been living in the Outer Rim with a retired Rebel agent. Well, Rasha was an Imperial first but defected out of love for him. It seems the Empire caught up to them, because she was killed by a sniper. Losing her left BoShek a shell of a man, Luke says, and he’s closed off from the Force now.” 

Dorset cursed softly at the tale, then looked over in unison with Tyria. Radie was standing, her face marred by a downcast expression as a few tears welled up in one eye.

“I’ll be fine, that just reminded me of people I’ve lost. Don’t feel bad for telling it, Tyria - not with what the Imps did to your homeworld. I can’t even imagine… but I’m sorry.” Radie walked away after that, rubbing at her eye absent-mindedly.

“Will she be okay?” Tyria asked Dorset, her brow furrowed in worry once Radie left them. “I felt a sense of mourning from her, but also some underlying guilt.”

“Yes - she’s resilient, but quite private about all that,” Dorset answered as she chose her words carefully. “Radie and her wingmate in Blue and Polearm squadrons were inseparable. Ro died at Selaggis and that still haunts her, even if she doesn’t like to talk about it with us very much.”

***

Linna was back to her cheerful self by morning, having recovered from the shootout. Radie also gave them a wan smile despite the grim tale Tyria had shared, though Dorset knew she hadn’t slept well during the night. The three were all sitting down for breakfast on a bench in the mess.

“You don’t think the Imps could tell that Tyria’s aboard the ship and target us, right?” she asked Radie and Linna nervously, envisioning how a force-user might cut through the ship’s security.

“If they do, we’ll find a way to be ready,” Commander Bell said from behind them, her Corellian accent more melodious than Radie’s raspy tone. They swung around to stand to attention, but she waved them off to remain at ease.

“Lieutenant Felian, I wanted to apologize if I seemed overly terse yesterday. The thought that I could have lost my first command in the initial few weeks had me on edge,” Bell told her. “You were doing your best under the circumstances, I’m sure.”

“It’s not a problem, but I appreciate the thought,” Radie answered with an understanding smile as she adjusted her ponytail. “If you’re worried about Liberty drawing an unwanted focus, well - you should know there may still be an active bounty for me on Nal Hutta. It was 20,000 credits dead or 30,000 alive last I heard. They aren’t aware I enlisted, though, and it’s been years.”

Bell shook her head, bemused. “I already have the Wraiths to deal with; I don’t want to know.”

Dorset and Linna both turned toward Radie, who looked disappointed as the commander left. 

“Come on, what’d you do on Nal Hutta?” Linna asked plaintively, like a child insisting to hear a story - which she was, at least in spirit.

“Let’s just say I had a very good 18th life day,” Radie said vaguely. “I’ll tell you the whole thing - but only for 30,000 credits.”

Chapter Text

6

The battered warships had finally reached Sluis Van and were undergoing repairs as quickly as they could be performed on some of the ancillary maintenance docks. Other vessels that had been there longer received priority status for repair, and so there was little for the pilots to do.

“Owen was asking about you again,” Linna told Dorset while the three A-Wing pilots were eating breakfast five days after the attempted capture of Swift Liberty. “Owen” was one of the B-Wing pilots aboard Swift Liberty, formerly a member of Mon Remonda’s fighter group, and Linna had tried to set Dorset up with him then as well. Linna’s own relationship with Owen’s wingmate, Nir Pulastra, wasn’t clear yet either but they were certainly making the most of their time on Liberty.

Owen had a lanky build befitting a bomber pilot, with almond brown hair and gray eyes. Dorset liked blue most of all colors, but she’d still found plenty of spark in them when they were dancing back on Remonda… Linna had kept on talking, and Dorset blinked back to reality.

“We could do a double date,” she told Dorset sweetly. “C’mon, it’ll be fun and life can be short.”

“I think we learned that pretty well at Selaggis,” Radie cut in with the slightest hint of criticism.

“Right, sorry.” Linna looked mollified. “I forget that sometimes, having been around longer.”

Radie chuckled to herself and shrugged.

“It’s okay. She’s not wrong, Dors, it could be a good way to get your mind off combat. I’m trying to move on after 18 months, but I don’t regret a minute of what I had. Besides, this is easier for you two. The odds aren’t exactly in my favor that Bell would be interested, you know?” Radie said with a bitter smile. “It’s best that I wait until this combat cycle ends but you don’t have to.”

Dorset pondered it for a moment before shaking her head. “Tell him I’m flattered, but I’m not as good at splitting focus as you. It’s more full throttle for me, and flying is always going to be the most important part of life. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him and Nir, but anything serious will have to wait. Besides, he flies a B-Wing. Owen did let me take lead when we were dancing, at least, but he’ll need something better than that bomber if he hopes to keep up.”

The trio all laughed at that - of course they thought A-Wings were the best snubfighter around, and that put them among the best pilots in the fleet. Other pilots could disagree and be wrong.

***

While Radie wasn’t too happy that they were again on a standby posture, the break from action gave them a chance to practice more and help the pilots permanently aboard Swift Liberty train more. The Imperial fleet had abandoned the relative truce, but there still weren’t large-scale battles to fight in yet. And the sabacc rumor Mirax relayed of new Imperial leadership had grown cold. 

Radie had always maintained her skepticism of the claim the Empire had some grand admiral in charge now. Dorset had been worried by it, but she remembered the confusion after Endor as a resident of Coruscant. There had even been a fanciful story that Palpatine would be succeeded by some three-eyed son. Instead, Isard had killed her way to the throne - but now she was dead too and the idea of a unified Empire perished as well. Most Imps were only out for themselves.

At least, that was how it had seemed up until a few weeks ago. Then the enemy forces got their act together, regrouped in the quarter of the galaxy they still held, and began fighting cohesively once more. NRI still hadn’t identified why, but it forced the New Republic fleet to respond in kind.

So that brought Dorset back into a combat simulator, except she was flying a TIE Interceptor against some of Liberty’s newer pilots in Z-95s Headhunters and BTL Y-Wings. Okay kids - it’s time to go to dogfighting school, Dorset thought as she smirked beneath her full black helmet.

The squint, as it was known in New Republic parlance, could outpace anything except A-Wings. It was why the Rebellion had developed its own interceptor; Dorset would be able to fly circles around even X-Wings in a squint. She’d done it before in sims, and planned to do so here again.

Solo once said interceptor pilots were either brave or crazy, probably both. I wish that would fit as a tattoo. Y-Wings may make history and X-Wings make holos, but A-Wings break records.

A chime from the simulator marked the beginning of their exercise, and Dorset filed her thoughts of A-Wing superiority away for later. She was flying with Radie, Linna, Commander Mayn, Tyria, and Captain Tabanne, who was still recovering from her injuries at Atravis but had asked to fly.

Their six TIE Interceptors and eight computer-controlled TIE Fighters would be pitted against two half-squadrons of Z-95s and Y-Wings attempting to attack part of the Kuat shipyards. She had fought in the actual capture of Kuat, so this would be an interesting reversal for her.

It was a particularly timely exercise as well - while none of them would be participating, Dorset had learned that Admiral Krane was about to lead a strike on the Imperial shipyard at Rendili. They wouldn’t be able to hold the yard given its proximity to the fleet at Corellia, but damaging the overhaul and repair facilities could set the Empire’s resurgent war effort back considerably.

I’m surprised I was able to hear about that, given the rumor that there’s a leak among the fleet.

“Incoming contacts at two-zero-five,” Mayn told them - the Y-Wings were inbound on a bombing run, with the Z-95s escorting them. The Headhunter still remained a capable fighter in the right hands, but these pilots didn’t have the experience to successfully engage an equal number of Interceptors. This will be like the lesson Janson gave me at Folor - don’t get too overconfident.

The third Headhunter in line rapidly filled Dorset’s viewport as they neared the merge point, both fighters closing at full speed. She carefully twisted to port, dodging its opening fire, and blasted away with a series of green laser shots that slipped through its shield and severed the left wing. 

Now crippled, the Z-95 corkscrewed to the right - its remaining engine was still at full power and there was no way to control the fighter without an emergency shutdown. The novice pilot failed to complete that in time, and then the antiquated fighter exploded against the shipyard docks. 

Nosing over to target the formation from the rear, Dorset bracketed the now unguarded Y-Wing and stitched fire into its central section behind the cockpit. The astromech took a few shots and was reduced to scrap before her lasers struck the power generator and blew the bomber apart.

That’s two. Radie would say this is like carving a ryshcate. And she’s about to pick off another Z-95 herself. Hopefully most of these pilots don’t see any real action again for a long time.

One Headhunter pilot was distinguishing themself well at least, managing to engage both Tyria and Atril together. Dorset thought about challenging that pilot to a head-to-head duel, but then saw even more interesting targets - four B-Wings dropping in toward the eight computer-flown TIE Fighters which had been hanging back to protect the shipyard’s center as missile pickets.

“You out there, Owen and Nir?” Dorset asked after switching her comm channel to the clear.

The pair of B-Wings in front rocked their stubby side wings in response, and Dorset smiled as she punched in the code for a direct channel to Linna. The others had control of the situation.

“Let’s go get them - this is my kind of double date,” Dorset told Linna, pushing the throttle to full.

On flimsi, this wasn’t a fair fight - even when their two TIE Interceptors were joined by the six remaining TIE Fighters. The B-Wing was slower and less agile, yes, but it had shields and more armament with 12 torpedoes to their four. Dorset and Linna would just have to be better pilots. That wasn’t guaranteed, either - Owen and Nir were veterans of the Zsinj campaign too.

The biggest danger was in their head-to-head closure, where the TIEs would have to rely on speed to avoid a killshot and the B-Wings’ shields would be strongest. Linna had switched to a comm channel with Nir briefly, and Dorset wondered if they were placing some wager on this.

She shook her head and focused on the other B-Wing in the pair. Her TIE Interceptor was doing most of the work in bringing them together quickly, flying at three times the B-Wing’s speed, and Dorset began juking wildly as Owen fired with his ion and standard laser cannons. She offered a few shots of her own to keep him on his toes, but knew they wouldn’t punch through the shields.

Linna’s TIE barely made it through a near shot that shredded part of its left upper wing array, but Dorset managed to guide hers through unscathed. Owen wasn’t trying to throw the dogfight so she’d have an easy win either, and she grinned at the challenge. Dorset liked these challenges. 

She throttled down and mashed the brakes, yanking the joystick back so her Interceptor rolled into a bruising loop that pressed her against the pilot’s seat. Now Dorset was half-a-klick behind Owen’s B-Wing and closing, though he started weaving back and forth to evade as much of her fire as possible. Given their current speeds, she only had 10 seconds to come up with a killshot before she’d shoot out in front of him. At the rate I’m draining his rear shields, Owen won’t want me back here even that long. So what’s he likely to do next? What would I do in an A-Wing?

Dorset smirked as a thought came to her, and she armed one of her four concussion missiles to detonate three seconds after being fired. I sure hope I got the math right, and that he didn’t have some other skifter up his sleeve. Otherwise I’ll look very foolish in front of him - and everyone.

The B-Wing wobbled slightly as she closed within 100 meters, and the way its shields flickered meant they were about to collapse. Owen would be desperate, knowing she could finish him off with that kind of time, and so he’d try to shake her by feinting left and right… Got you, Nordan.

Dorset dumb-fired her concussion missile, letting transferred inertia carry it forward, and pushed back up to full power. Corkscrewing wildly to keep Owen from getting a lock, she watched as he carried out his planned move of hitting the brakes - and slammed into her missile as it went off.

A quick check of the sensor board showed that Nir was still active - his early strike on Linna’s wing panel had left her Interceptor about as agile as his heavy fighter and allowed him to vape her within a few passes. Those still brought significant damage to his B-Wing, and Dorset was able to swing behind him and finish him off with little difficulty. That’s four, and I avenged my wingmate of course. The exercise ended before she could become a full simulator ace, though.

***

Hopping out of the TIE sim pod, Dorset unbuckled her helmet and ran a hand through her black hair to get it back in a semblance of order. It was usually mussed to begin with, and the Imperial helmet had left it straggly and matted with sweat. She drank some water from a bottle left next to the pod, then splashed a bit over her face as well before unzipping her flightsuit halfway.

“You need to learn to dodge better,” Dorset told Linna teasingly as the pilot from Naboo exited her pod, looking amused that she’d been vaped. “I settled things, though - that was a lot of fun.”

Radie smiled at them as well, but one of the Rover Squadron pilots - a gray-furred Bothan with dark yellow eyes named Vek Dy’la - had come over from his sim pod and was glaring at Dorset.

“I bet you had fun in a TIE. Probably reminds you of growing up on Imperial Center, you schu-”

“Watch your kriffing mouth, nugget,” Radie snarled before he could finish the Rodian curse, as she tapped her lieutenant’s rank pin and reminded him he was still a trainee. “Dorset’s trying to teach you to be better so you stay alive, and she has already lost a lot of friends to the Empire. As have I. But if you’re not scared to face a real battle, keep talking. See where it gets you.”

Dorset relaxed slightly, glad Radie seemed to have the situation - and her own temper - mostly under control. She was worried her friend might fight Dy’la if really provoked, since his claws could be very dangerous. Not to mention the damage to Radie’s career, of course.

“There a problem here?” Atril interjected as she leaned against her sim pod, helmet in one hand while the other adjusted her hair back into a bun. Whatever retort the Bothan had planned to fire at Radie quickly died - he was willing to backtalk a lieutenant, but not a captain from Coruscant. Other pilots from the exercise were watching as well, and Dy’la stormed off instead. 

Dorset glanced around, checking whether the rest of Liberty’s pilots were eyeing her reprovingly as well. Most went back to their conversations, with Atril and Tyria talking to Lyyr - the Z-95 pilot who had held them off during the simulator run. At least she was showing promise.

“Don’t worry about Vek,” Owen said - of course Linna was leading him and Nir over to Dorset. “He’s got a big mouth but dull claws; we’re fairly confident that Fey’lya keeps him on retainer to stir up trouble among the fleet and pass along political intel. Captain Sedgwik only puts up with him because of appearances and his friends on staff at the Provisional Council.”

Dorset smiled and nodded. “I’ve dealt with someone like that before, back at Folor Base. You get used to it when you’re from Coruscant. They don’t bother me any more.”

Linna patted her on the shoulder anyway, then caught Nir’s eye as she sniffed her flightsuit. 

“I’m gonna go shower,” she told them nonchalantly, wandering off without further goodbyes.

Nir was inventing a reason he also had to leave within a minute, while Dorset and Owen both rolled their eyes and stayed behind sheepishly. Thanks a lot, Linna.

“At least they use her room most of the time,” Owen told her with a scowl. “I’m going on alert duty soon, though, so who knows today. Anyway, I wanted to say I understand your priorities about putting flight ahead of anything else right now. You did pretty well in sims back there.”

Dorset nodded again with a smile. “That braking trick will probably work on less experienced pilots, so don’t give up on it because I beat it. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

She watched Owen head to the hangar and his real B-Wing after that, her expression wry. Of course I did well back there - I vaped you, didn’t I? Still, Linna made sure he knew how to win me over by complimenting my flying. If he’d said I looked pretty, I would’ve laughed and called him a liar. Dorset glanced again at her reflection in the canopy glass, utterly bemused by it all.

Chapter Text

7

“Any news from the fronts?” Dorset asked Radie the next morning - the battle lines changed throughout the galaxy as Imperial forces executed hit-and-fade strikes in multiple sectors daily.

“Our attack at Rendili was turned back with heavy casualties,” Radie answered sadly, scrolling through her datapad’s entries. “Looks like the Imps hit some sun-scarred planet called Nkllon, took a bunch of mining equipment, and retreated. That’s weird, maybe the Wraiths could figure out how they would use it. At least they didn’t realize Skywalker, Organa, and Solo were there.”

Dorset nodded. Information about the Jedi of old had been restricted during the Imperial era, especially on Coruscant, but it was said some would fall to the dark side every now and then. The Imps capturing and turning Skywalker or Organa would be really bad for us - I’m not even sure anyone has a plan for that. It’s almost too horrifying to think about.

“Where are the three of them now?” she asked Radie. 

Radie shrugged. “Skywalker seems to have gone on one of his Jedi quests - that’s the rumor, anyway - while Solo and Organa hid out on the Falcon. Supposedly with Calrissian involved.”

Dorset nodded again - during the Zsinj campaign, the Wraiths had used an interpreter droid to pose as Solo by replicating his voice. Dorset herself had flown with the false Falcon as escort. But if the Imps replicated that with their own YT-1300, would they know about the voice too?

An alarm cut off her worrisome questions - “All pilots to Briefing Room Aurek, this is not a drill.”

Half of Rover Squadron were running past, and Dorset and Radie both sprang up while zipping their flightsuits and donning helmets. Something’s gone wrong - but if we were attacked, they’d be sending us straight to the hangars, not a briefing room. Feels like we’re in hyperspace too.

Dorset nodded to Commander Mayn and Linna as they entered the room; most of the pilots on board Liberty were assembled and Captain Tabanne was even wearing the New Republic’s TIE flightsuit again. Are we scrambling anyone who’s ever been a pilot for this? Whatever this is.

“Listen up!” Bell shouted, her voice cutting through the myriad conversations around the briefing room. “This is a priority one mission assignment. Luke Skywalker is reportedly missing, but we will find him. He was traveling from Nkllon in the Athega system to Jomark, and word from the fringe is that the Imps are hunting for him as well. They’re trying to pay smugglers to help, too: 30,000 credits as the finder’s fee - it seems now they’re not as generous with coin as the Hutts.

“We’re pulling in as many ships as we can, with search-and-rescue U-Wings and Nebulon-B medical frigates at the ready throughout the major trade routes. You locate him and report it in, and we can have a full recovery team on station within 30 minutes.”

As she spoke, Bell brought up a map of the galaxy and circled Nkllon’s position, then Jomark’s. Dorset gasped when the commander drew a line between the two planets, and she wasn’t the only one. That stretches more than halfway across the galaxy. How the kriff will we find him? 

At least Bell’s voice is full of conviction - she probably knew or met Skywalker back on Hoth. 

“We’re moving up the Rimma Trade Route as I speak,” Bell told them. “We’ll exit hyperspace at Wroona and deploy you from there. Captain Tabanne will take our TIE Fighters and search that system. A GR-75 is in route to provide further support, since you don’t have hyperdrives. It isn’t much compared to your Corvette, Atril, but don’t count them out in a fight either.

“Commander Mayn, your A-Wings will take up positions in grid square Mern-14. Check if he’s gone to ground at Borao, Heptalia, or Vaklin. That last planet is still pretty hostile to Jedi, so be careful around it. Captain Ried, I’m dividing your Headhunter group up between Nern-14 and Nern-13. Hit as many planets as you can quickly. Captain Stramm will lead his Raven group, and the Y-Wings in Thorn Squadron, to check Orenth-12. I’ll take the Wraiths to Peth-11. Good luck, everyone - the future of the New Republic depends on this. Trust your instincts and your wingmates, and report any sign of Imperial activity immediately. May the Force be with you.”

Dorset looked to Radie and sighed. At least we’re not all flying alone, but that’s probably to make sure one of us gets the word out if we run into the Imps - before we both die. The force won’t exactly do us good, just Tyria - and Corran, wherever they have the Rogues searching. Maybe they can call out to him or sense where he is? Who knows how all that really works.

“Hey,” Radie whispered to Dorset wryly, in a mix of attempted reassurance and amusement. “At least we know the price for Skywalker is worth as much as I am.”

Dorset nodded, even as the bitter subtext behind the words made her frown. Having a medical team like this could have saved Elana Donnall’s life at Selaggis, and a full search would have meant we recovered Carmiya Rendon’s body instead of leaving her behind. Now they ask us to risk our lives finding him, without thought of the potential costs. No, we’re not worth as much as Skywalker - but we knew that when we enlisted. Bell values us, though; she’s taking the Wraiths into the area that’s most likely to draw Imperial contact herself. This must weigh on her.

“Watch your backs out there,” Commander Mayn told them simply as they left the briefing room. 

Linna didn’t say much either; her wide lips were pursed in a grim expression rather than smiling. Instead she just hugged them both; then they all helped check each other’s flightsuits, took to their A-Wings, and launched back into hyperspace once Swift Liberty was over Wroona. Their searching would be a painful reminder of the aftermath at Selaggis, and the friends lost there.

***

Dorset and Radie combed through the Borao system but found no X-Wing, no traces of engine trails from one, and no indication there’d been a battle between Skywalker and the Imperials. It took nearly a standard day of searching, but at least a U-Wing arrived to provide more fuel and a chance to sleep for five hours. Then they headed over to Vaklin, as Radie had volunteered to check the more troublesome planet - much to Linna’s relief.

“What is the deal with this place?” Dorset asked reluctantly once they left hyperspace and the greenish-yellow planet came into view. She’d been putting that off, but now it couldn’t wait.

“The Imps did a number on it when they took over after the Clone Wars,” Radie began, sighing. “Vaklin had been close to the Jedi, and they put a lot of effort into eradicating that history. Sorry to say it worked in time - they destroyed the old statues and religious sites, then replaced them with indoctrination centers. The New Republic’s tried, but they haven’t been able to reverse it.”

Dorset gulped. So we have to go down there and ask if anyone’s seen Skywalker, when they’ll hate him for being a Jedi - and probably us for bringing it up. Why’d we draw this assignment?

“On the bright side, the architect of that effort is dead,” Radie was saying over the comm. “ISB tried to have her do the same thing on Corellia, but they couldn’t execute civilians for reprisal that time… not on the homeworld itself, anyway. It didn’t end well for Namada.”

Even over audio, Dorset could tell Radie was smiling coldly as she spoke - and it worried her.

“What do you mean?” she asked the Corellian, against her better judgment.

“This was before my time in the Underground, maybe 12 years ago? They kept Namada heavily protected, with armored speeder convoys and counter-sniper teams any time she left their main headquarters, but eventually one of our leaders got in touch with a maid working there. She was able to tuck a little something under Namada’s bed - 30 minutes after the light went out in there, boom. As a bonus, the blast took out an office on the floor below and killed five more ISB staff.”

“You’re saying they bombed her in her sleep?” Dorset asked in shock. “That’s kind of kriffed up.”

“Yes, it’s better than she deserved,” Radie snarled before realizing Dorset’s true meaning. “They waited til after Namada’s daughter had gone back to Coruscant; we didn’t go after the children. And those ISB kriffers were the worst of the worst.”

Her voice was defensive now, and Dorset stayed silent rather than ask if this was the sort of act Radie had carried out in the Underground. I don’t want to know. It’s not like how I vape enemy pilots head-to-head, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s like being ordered to ambush them; I’d do that. 

The silence didn’t go unnoticed, and Radie looked embarrassed when they both got out of their A-Wings. Dorset had been first, sliding down the wing and stretching away the last 30 hours. When Radie joined her, she was shuffling her flight helmet back and forth between her hands.

“Sorry about that, Dors - I got a bit carried away with the war story I’d heard. It’s… it’s the sort of thing Ro and I talked about. Stars, how I miss her,” Radie said as her raspy voice cracked a bit.

Dorset nodded and rubbed her shoulder, having suspected this. We’ve become good friends, especially after Selaggis, but of course I can’t fill the void Ro’aven left. Radie had even confided late one night that she was still wary of getting too close to Bell, assuming it actually worked out.

If this were some holo-film, Radie would probably be hellsbent on avenging Ro’s death. But the ISB didn’t get her, Ro was killed by an exploding TIE at Selaggis. Radie’s always been like this. At least since she enlisted, probably going back to her year spent in the Corellian Underground.

“If you ever need to talk about her, I’m here for that much at least,” Dorset told Radie. “I miss Ro too - and ’Tengo, Rushi… all of them. I couldn’t have gotten through it without your help.”

Radie smiled tenderly and nodded. “Thanks, I think I’m okay for now but I’ll keep it in mind. Let’s see if we can find Skywalker.”

***

It took three klicks of walking before Dorset and Radie made it to the planet’s main town, Vaklin Zenith. Their boots were caked with mud and dust, and the town seemed just as unpaved. Most of the buildings were made from brick, with wood and fabric awnings erected in front of them. A massive metal building towered over them at the rear - it had been the Imperial headquarters.

Now, it seemed the locals weren’t sure what to do with it. Portions of the durasteel were rusted and a few windows looked broken. Yellow flags were flying where Imp ones had been, at least.

The streets were narrow and crowded, but the New Republic patches on their green flightsuits meant the locals gave Dorset and Radie a wide berth. After the Empire abandoned Vaklin, the New Republic had tried to establish a native garrison but found they wanted to be left alone.

Radie was in the lead as they walked to a rustic tapcaf that appeared to be where locals went after work. Dorset tried to mirror her gait, rather than walking in the hunched style of Coruscant. 

Their plan was to go in and talk to people one by one, but once they stepped through the cloth that served as a door everyone in the tapcaf turned to stare at them warily. Sithspit.

Worse, a man at the front tapped a sign that said “No blasters.” He seemed to have the role of local constabulary, and Radie scowled as she handed over her holstered DL-44. She winked at Dorset, though, a reminder that she still had at least one holdout blaster and other weapons. 

Radie stepped up in front of the throng once they’d gotten out of the entrance and cleared her throat to get their attention and quiet them down.

“Listen - we’re looking for a fellow New Republic pilot who may have landed here a few days ago. Blond guy, a bit taller than me, probably wearing an orange flightsuit or all black. Any of you seen him around?” Radie asked in a loud voice. “What about you, bartender?”

Dorset stayed quiet so her accent didn’t scare the locals, trying - but probably failing - to look like she was there as Radie’s escort. The guard didn’t even bother to check me for weapons, even though I could’ve hidden a blaster under my leather jacket. 

Meanwhile the crowd in front of them were whispering to each other, rather than answering Radie. Dorset glanced around the room worriedly as the locals’ expressions turned hostile.

“You’re here looking for Skywalker!” someone in the crowd yelled. The whole group looked agitated by the name, and Dorset saw a few picking up their wood-and-metal cutlery.

“Radie-”

“I got it,” she answered quickly before turning back to the crowd. “People! We’re not here for Skywalker, we’re looking for someone else. He’s just an ordinary pilot like us, okay?”

“She’s lying!” the bartender shouted, holding up a piece of flimsi with Skywalker’s image slashed by a pair of red lines through it. “That’s him, all right - they’ll bring the Imperials back!”

“The Empire will kill us all this time!” someone in the crowd shouted, and then a glass mug was thrown toward their direction. It missed, but shards still rained down on both of them as it broke.

“Back the kriff up!” Radie yelled as she pulled two holdout blasters from her flightsuit sleeves, leveling them at the crowd members who had more glasses in hand now. “Dors- behind you!”

Dorset started to turn, but then the guard threw an arm across her body at shoulder height and dragged her back a step.

“Let her go - or you won’t get a chance to regret not searching me better,” Radie snarled as she pressed the blaster in her right hand to his forehead and kept her left one aimed at the crowd.

Dorset glanced over at them - they weren’t moving any closer now, but they’d be able to swarm Radie within a few seconds. No matter how many shots she fired, there were too many. 

And they just want to be left alone and out of galactic affairs, they’re not evil or anything. 

“Just put the blasters down, surrender and we can work this out,” the guard was saying. “You’re with the New Republic, you’re not going to shoot me point blank.”

Radie sighed, pondering it for a moment without ever taking her eyes off the crowd.

“Yeah - you’re right,” she growled.

Then she pulled the trigger.

***

The blaster report was ear-splittingly loud for Dorset, but she was surprised and relieved to see it was only a stun blast. The close contact between her and the guard left her feeling woozy, but she was able to stay on her feet and managed to pick up the DL-44 he’d taken off Radie earlier. The guard himself had tensed up, enough that Dorset broke free, and slumped over on the floor.

“Dors, you ok?” Radie asked while training both blasters toward the crowd once more. They had taken a step back at the shot, but there was no guarantee that would last long. Stars, they may not even know what stun bolts are after suffering under Imperial rule. They think he’s dead.

“Yeah - take this please,” Dorset answered as she gingerly gave Radie the heavy blaster and accepted her holdout, still toggled for stun blasts, in its place. That’s much better for me.

Radie had taken another step toward the crowd, then raised her DL-44, aimed toward a wood beam above them, and fired a rapid burst. The wood was ripped through but didn’t burn much, and it got the crowd’s attention when she lowered the barrel back toward their heads.

“Anyone tries to attack us, I will shoot the lot of them.” Radie’s voice was a chillingly low snarl, and Dorset was glad to be standing behind her now. They backed away slowly, and Dorset kept a better look out this time as she held the small blaster tight between sweat-covered hands.

“I don’t think the New Republic will get a very friendly reception next time they show up here,” Dorset told Radie once they’d made it out of town. She was parched from the stress, and drank a bottle of water quickly once Radie had taken her holdout blaster back and tucked it away.

“I’ll put a warning in my report,” Radie said coolly as she reholstered the DL-44 as well. 

“Good. I was pretty kriffing useless in there,” Dorset muttered as she kicked a rock off the path.

“Don’t say that,” Radie told her with a grin. “You had my back. If you weren’t there, the guard at the door would’ve grabbed me and then imagine the trouble we’d be in.”

“Very funny,” Dorset replied, even if she half-smiled after a moment. “I’m just the decoy, huh?”

Radie stopped walking. “Look, Dors - you’re sweet, and kind, and not constantly watching the people around you in case they attack like in the tapcaf back there. The galaxy needs people like you. Don’t go and ruin it by trying to be like me, okay? It’s the last thing I want to happen.”

Dorset nodded, suddenly feeling very grim about the conversation, but then Radie smiled slyly to lighten the mood again.

“Oh, and you have a really obvious sabacc tell. I can let you know what it is, but only if we use that to take Linna down next time. She’s getting way too cocky when we play.”

Chapter Text

8

Dorset pushed a lock of hair back behind her right ear, seemingly out of habit, as she studied the cards in her left hand. The Mistress and Nine of Sabers. Really good, since Radie didn’t choose Gambit rules this time. Still, she only slid four chips into the pot. Let’s take it slow, at least until Linna antes up on her turn. 

Radie took another look at her hand, then placed it down and leaned back to watch the action unfold with an amused smile. The search for Skywalker had ended - he’d been found, not that they knew where - and they were back aboard Swift Liberty with little to do but enjoy downtime. Hey, the Sluissi certainly have been lately, Dorset thought. We can have some fun now too.

They’d been spending a lot of time practicing in sims - she enjoyed that, of course - and helping the younger pilots of Swift Liberty improve. Most of them were still far too green, but Dorset had been impressed by Syrra Ried’s skill after the Eriadu woman vaped her in a sim of the Vahaba engagement. Then again, she was one of the more experienced pilots aboard Liberty. By night, they swapped war stories - even if they kept the real stories of Vahaba and Selaggis private.

Today, fun meant sabacc. Their game included Radie, Linna, Nir, Owen, Lyyr Zatoq, and Runt Ekwesh. Dorset had to admit, she hadn’t pictured Thakwaash as being able to hold cards well when she first heard of them - but this one could obviously fly so that wasn’t a problem either. The Gamorrean Voort was around somewhere, but no one who knew of his mathematical prowess was willing to play against him.

Lyyr and Nir each put in the standard bet for this round of four chips as well, while Runt looked at his cards briefly before setting them down. “We fold,” he told the group with disappointment.

The three newer pilots exchanged a confused glance, and Lyyr raised a hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why do you say ‘we’ in reference to yourself?”

Dorset smiled through the explanation of multiple minds, having known Runt and his species’ idiosyncrasies since their daring escape from Folor Base. She’d liked meeting Lyyr as well - the Quarren pilot was a bit brash, but she dreamed of bigger things than just flying Headhunters. 

“That’s neat,” Linna said after Runt finished. “There’s a Gand pilot in the Rogues who used to only speak in the third person, though I hear he finally got past that after Thyferra.”

Linna swung her bootless feet up onto the side of the table while she spoke, scratching at the edge of her mechanical lower leg. “I wish I could regenerate limbs like those guys though.”

Owen was next in the order and he watched her studiously while considering what to bet, as if attempting to see through her cards and identify them. Dorset tried not to blush at his gaze.

“Call,” he said finally while he dropped four chips in and turned towards Linna, next in line.

“You two cowards don’t have anything,” she said dismissively, pushing 10 chips in and daring them to match her raise. 

“I’m out,” Nir told them as he dropped his cards. “I know better than to go against you like that.”

Lyyr folded as well. She was nearly done, with 14 chips, while Linna had a sizable lead with 46 remaining. Dorset had 32 and Owen was in even worse shape at 10. Of the three sitting on the sidelines now, Radie still held 25 chips since she’d bailed early, Nir had 20, and Runt had 31. 

“Sithspit,” Owen muttered to himself as he glanced down at his own hand this time, running the chips between his fingers with the other as he thought about it for a few seconds. 

It was still Dorset’s turn to bet, though, and she pushed in six chips to match the bet and another 16 off into a head-to-head side pot with just Linna.

“Kriff you,” Owen told her as he dropped his remaining chips into the main pot. Dorset simply smirked back at him - but then they both flushed red when Linna added that Owen would have liked to do that. At least Radie was able to lean over and lightly rap Linna on the shoulder for it. 

“Okay - enough of this. Time to lose, kids,” Linna told them as she pushed her full collection into their side pot rather than keep any in reserve. “Or are you gonna cut and run on me, Dors?”

Dorset turned her full smile toward Linna, and tried not to laugh when she saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. Then she sprinkled all her chips over top of the side pot. No going back now.

Owen had to show his cards first, and revealed two Nines in Flasks and Staves. It was a decent enough hand since the goal was to reach positive or negative 23, but not a great one.

Linna was starting to falter, but still put up a confident expression as she revealed the Balance, the Star, and the Seven of Coins - a total of negative 21 when you added them together.

Dorset sighed in relief that her gamble and faked use of the tell had paid off, laying down her total of positive 22 in one suit for added security. Only a 23 or an Idiot’s Array would’ve beat it.

Linna swung her feet back off the table and stood up in shock. “Wait - you slow-roller! You set me up to go all in, admit it. I’m actually proud of you. But don’t act like you didn’t help, Radie.”

Radie laughed and joined in sweeping the chips from both pots and stacking them up. “Dorset needed to learn to lie better, Linna - it’s an operational security concern.”

Linna rolled her eyes, then beckoned Nir to follow her away. Owen was starting to get up to leave as well, but Nir handed over his 20 chips so his wingmate could keep playing instead.

Great. At least I’m way up with 104 now. Runt has 31, Radie has 25, and Lyyr has 14. I just need to avoid getting overconfident like Linna and spoiling the lead.

“Commander - care to join us? We aren’t playing for real credits,” Radie called out as Bell and Captain Tabanne strolled into the break room. She’d unzipped her flightsuit a bit too, almost to the degree Linna might wear hers open, and Dorset barely suppressed a laugh.

Bell shook her head, though. “Sorry, but I have a scheduled holo-call with Commander Yonka in five minutes. Are those two seats open? Atril and Todra, why don’t you play in my stead.”

Commander Mayn was standing off to the side, looking at a holo-display of ships in the system. Swift Liberty had been docked at one of Sluis Van’s secondary areas for repairs, along with the Freedom commanded by Yonka. Ession Strike had also been refitted with a new hangar there.

“I’ll be there in a minute. Dors, Radie - take a look at this Class-A freighter. Remember how we deployed from that Super Transport VI two years ago? It’s got no escort, something feels off.”

Radie zipped her flightsuit back up and ran over, Dorset close behind. Sabacc will have to wait.  

The freighter was headed into the system to dock, while outbound warships were moving away in another lane. Admiral Ackbar had gone even further in repurposing ships for cargo transport, by reducing crews to a few dozen with droid augmentation and a fighter squadron for escort.

But this freighter is coming in alone - perhaps it was in a battle and lost its escort. 

“Do you want us to check it out?” Dorset asked Mayn warily. I hope it’s not an attempt to bomb the yards as payback for our Rendili strike, but what more could they be doing? We have too many ships around for them to attack any other way. We’ll probably intercept and find nothing but a false alarm. At least it will be good, safe practice for the younger pilots.

“Yeah - take Nordan, I’ll wrangle up Linna and Nir to join you on station in 10 minutes. I hope.”

“I’ll be out there once I get my helmet,” Lyyr told them before hurrying off to her quarters. Dorset liked the enthusiasm - it reminded her of being back at Folor Base two long years ago.

***

The two interceptor pilots ran from the turbolift and into the hangar 40 seconds later, with Owen close behind. His B-Wing sat folded up nearby, and Dorset slid back out of her fighter once she programmed in the automatic start process. Radie watched curiously but didn’t stop her.

“Hey, Owen - it looks like we could be getting into something dicey here. You know, there’s an old Alderaanian tradition for luck…” Dorset told him once she’d reached the heavy bomber.

Receiving his nod, Dorset leaned up on her toes and snaked an arm around his shoulders. He had one hand nestling in her hair - at least it wasn’t so disheveled now - and the other on her back. She smiled and slid into the remaining space between them, closing her eyes.

But almost as soon as the kiss began, so did the alarm klaxons - this wasn’t just practice now.

“Well, I never said I was Alderaanian,” she told Owen as they both straightened their flightsuits awkwardly. “We better get out there. Radie, any word about what just happened?”

“That freighter just exploded by dock V-475,” Radie told them as she listened to the comm set in her helmet. “Kriff. It’s launched TIE Fighters. This really is just like what we did back at Ession.” 

“All hands, battle stations. Pilots report to the hangar and launch when ready,” Bell was telling her crew over the shipwide comms. “Five Star Destroyers and support ships just jumped in.”

Their own Star Destroyer had broken away from its moorings and was moving now - it wasn’t fit for much combat yet, but at least they wouldn’t be trapped in place if the docks were attacked.

The two A-Wings raced off toward the main action, with Owen doing his best to keep up. By now the other pilots would be reaching the hangar and scrambling to complete startup and take off. After the Imperial attacks in the region, Sluis Van had plenty of New Republic capital ships but very few fighters - even Freedom had sent its squadrons to the front upon entering drydock. 

Commander Antilles was speaking on the fleetwide comms now, warning that the TIE Fighters were inside the shipyard’s perimeter. They had to attack right when the locals are so sluggish?

Dorset and Radie braked so Owen could catch up, with Linna, Commander Mayn, and Nir close behind. The first Z-95s and Wraiths were launching, but Bell kept the other two squadrons back. The Y-Wings had too many rookies, and her TIEs might be mistaken for enemy fighters.

“Let’s get these bastards,” Linna said angrily over their group comms, sounding more like Radie. “They picked the wrong time to show up.”

“Dors and Owen are probably mad at them too,” Radie said, her voice mirthful. 

“Radie!” Dorset protested - but it was too late.

“Cut the chatter,” Mayn interrupted. “Bell wants us to hold here and guard this part of the docks in case we get boarding parties or bombing runs. The Rogues are in the thick of it with plenty of capital ship support, they’ll be fine. They’re Rogue Squadron, after all.”

The A-Wings formed the center of the defensive line, drifting sideways as Swift Liberty moved to guard Freedom in its dock as well. Each half of the Wraiths’ X-Wings were on their flanks, and the Raven Squadron B-Wings stayed behind them for heavy support. The Z-95s held the rear.

“Sensor contact - incoming target bearing one-three-eight,” Radie told them all. “It looks like a cone of some sort. Possibly a cluster warhead like we used at Kuat. Request weapons free.”

“Negative,” Mayn answered once she’d had a chance to confer with Bell - whatever this was, it wasn’t moving fast. “Raven Leader, hit it with an ion cannon if you can. If not, Radie takes it.”

The B-Wing slipped through their ranks and closed on the target, its stubby wings visible against the glow of the engines. The cone didn’t seem to have much in the way of defensive capabilities and was swiftly frozen in place; Dorset had closed her eyes in case it exploded at the shot.

When she opened her eyes, the cone was drifting off course at a slow rate of speed and rolling, with blue crackles of energy sparking across its fire-scorched hull. That’s weird, what burned it?

“Radie, Dors - check it out, but be careful,” Mayn ordered.

They moved in slowly, Dorset approaching from the top of the vessel and Radie alongside it in case she needed to shoot. There’s something in that part of the cone - an escape port, maybe.

Wait - that doesn’t make sense for a warhead. What is this? At least it’s not moving any more.

The mystery would have to wait - Captain Tabanne was back on Swift Liberty’s comms channel.

“All pilots, this is the XO. Re-authenticate your IFF signals by adding the code Aurek-11 now.”

Dorset blinked but flipped the necessary switches and checked her sensors. The other fighters and Liberty had done the same, as had Freedom. They were the only ones on Aurek-11 so far.

“Commander, what’s going on?” Radie asked nervously. There weren’t many reasons to add an IFF code mid-battle. If one of their own had turned like at Jussafet, changing codes wouldn’t be a solution. No, the green-on-blue threat is something even bigger. Stars above - not the fleet! I know tensions with Fey’lya’s camp are high, but I didn’t expect a full-on mutiny. And why now?

“I don’t know what’s happening, but we’re getting reports up and down the line that our ships are firing on each other. One of the Mon Cal cruisers opened up on Rogue Squadron. No casualties though,” Atril told them. “Standby for new targets - you may have to engage mutineers. We can’t figure out who’s supposed to be in command here so Bell’s taking charge of this area. I’ll be out in Ession Strike momentarily. First priority is vessels that are making for the Imperial lines.”

While Strike had lost its hangar during the Atravis battle, that had been replaced with a new one offering three levels of storage. It was made of barebones sheet metal and not pretty to look at, but would get the job done and then some. I can relate to that, Dorset thought with a smile.

The Y-Wings were taking off from Liberty as well, and Dorset winced as she remembered how green they were. At least that means they won’t know anyone they’re asked to attack. Thank kriff the Rogues are still on our side, whatever’s going on.

It brought back painful memories of how Nuro Tualin had been brainwashed by Zsinj’s forces.

Oh sithspit, Dorset thought as she switched comm channels. “Tyria - you doing ok with this?”

“Yeah,” the Wraith answered a moment later. “It’s weird - I can hardly sense anything from the ships that are mutinying. Not that I have much ability with the Force, but if entire ship crews had gone over I think I’d be able to pick up something: greed, ambition, anger at perceived sleights. But there’s no motives of any kind that stick out. Wait… now I’m feeling fear. They’re scared?”

Dorset blinked, very unsettled by the whole idea of what Tyria could feel through the Force, then gasped as she saw jets of fire bursting from dozens of New Republic ships. There’s the blasted cones again. What the kriff is going on?

Chapter Text

9

The Imperial fleet had left empty-handed and Dorset was finally getting an explanation for what occurred, but the battle still wasn’t over yet. At least it hadn’t been a real mutiny.

“I just got off the comm with Commander Antilles,” Atril Tabanne told them over a group channel. “The Imps used all the cone ships - they’re repurposed mining equipment - for boarding parties and took advantage of our minimal crew numbers to seize as many as they could. General Solo and Calrissian fired them back up to keep the hijacked ships from escaping. Now there’s a few remaining stormtroopers in vacuum armor out to wreak havoc; we need to go stop them.”

“They’ve got no way to escape - why don’t they just surrender?” Linna asked in frustration.

“Total commitment to the mission,” Radie answered with a bit of grudging respect. “They would rather die than fail and be captured, so let’s oblige them.”

A seemingly routine diagnostic query appeared on their A-Wings’ monitor, and Dorset blinked as she read through the scrolling lines of amber script.

STRIKE ACTUAL TO GROUP: GENERAL SOLO SAYS THE IMPERIALS ARE LISTENING IN ON COMMS. TWO TARGETS REPORTED ATTACKING DOCK V-490. FIND AND TERMINATE THEM WITH EXTREME EFFECT. TABANNE OUT.

Radie’s A-Wing was just three meters away, and she caught Dorset’s eye before making a set of hand signals rather than use the comms. I lead, you follow. We both vape them in their armor.

Dorset was glad to let her wingmate take charge. Battling starfighters was clean, of course; they posed plenty of danger even if she had shields. Same for capital ships, probably even more so.

But individual troopers in space armor - that was serious overkill. Do they really deserve it?

This wasn’t like the aftermath of their Jussafet mission when their friend Nuro Tualin’s mind was warped by Zsinj’s forces and Tyria had to kill him. Raptor troops on the ground there had taken part in massacring civilians - none of the pilots thought twice when Mayn ordered strafing runs so they could get their anger for Nuro out. They’d kept shooting until fuel and torps were spent.

But these spacetroopers are here for boarding actions and were reduced to floating around in their armor. Am I really going to vape them one by one? I guess I’ll wait and see if they actually pose a threat to me first. Who am I kidding - I can probably just sit back and let Radie do it.

As it turned out, Dorset’s moral concerns weren’t needed - the spacetroopers were terrifying. And armed to the teeth: miniature proton torpedo launchers, blaster cannons, and rocket jets. Thankfully the two at Dock V-490 were focused on doing as much damage as they could and didn’t see the A-Wings behind them until it was too late.

Dorset fired a paired shot that dented the back of the spacetrooper’s head but wasn’t fatal, then had to squeeze the trigger three more times before he could turn around and launch a torpedo. Radie, on the other hand, poured her bolts up and down the second one with grisly results.

Two down, six to go. A glint of light caught Dorset’s eye to the left, though, and she saw rockets firing as another spacetrooper streaked towards a CR90 corvette - then blew himself up to take out its bridge. The light carrier drifted away without power, but at least it wasn’t Ession Strike.

“Pilots, return to Swift Liberty and get something to eat,” Atril told them tiredly. “It’s been hours.”

Dorset followed the rest of the fighters in, one eye looking back at the chaos that remained. The shipyard had taken moderate damage - but half of their warships were now out of commission.

We had enough problems with internal strife before this. Now there’ll be all kinds of infighting at the docks, and once it gets out on the Holonet… Radie’s nine Corellian hells could break loose.

They landed back in Liberty’s hangar, with Strike joining them once more, and Dorset stretched quickly while she debated whether to eat or shower first. She had a tendency to sweat under pressure in flight, but her stomach won out this time. The other A-Wing pilots joined the stream headed towards the mess hall, but Loran told the Wraiths he had an urgent call from Antilles.

***

“Ackbar’s whole plan of using reduced crews spread us too thin,” an ordnance tech was telling his crew chief as the pilots sat down in the mess hall. “Maybe he’s losing his touch.”

Dorset winced at hearing the insubordinate comment out in the open from a stranger, but then Vek Dy’la - the Bothan pilot in Rover Squadron - glanced around the room smugly.

“You won’t be needing to worry about Ackbar any more,” he told them all. “He’s been arrested on suspicion of treason and embezzlement. It’s a new day for the Republic, people.”

The words were met with gasps and more than one approving whoop, and Dorset scanned the hall to see who’d been cheering - two human security guards. Well that’s just kriffing great.

The Wraiths present - Kell, Tyria, Voort, and Face - all held stony expressions while they stood at a table nearby. Radie’s face was pale and looked like she might be sick, though her brown eyes were as cold as ever. Dorset wished this could’ve been some trick or false rumor, but the way Radie had reacted after checking on her datapad was confirmation. 

“The admiral got out of slavery and made it to Supreme Commander of our fleet,” Radie ground out as she stared furiously at Dy’la and the two guards. “Show some respect, for kriff’s sake.”

“Plus it’s not just his name you’re disrespecting,” Kell added. He looked tense but still in control, and Tyria patted him on the shoulder for reassurance.

But Dy’la ignored them, turning to Lyyr Zatoq. Dorset had enjoyed their discussions over sabacc and other downtime - but she didn’t know where Lyyr fell between the Ackbar or Fey’lya camps.

“Of course Ackbar’s pet screw-ups would defend him,” Vek sneered with only a passing glance toward the Wraiths. “But you know that I’m right, Lyyr. Ackbar’s just a rotten old-”

Before he could finish, Lyyr had jumped up and backhanded him across the face, hard enough that he slid to the ground. 

“You think just cause I’m a Quarren, I hate all the Mon Cals?” Lyyr was yelling as she kicked Vek twice in the stomach before he could get back up - and then Kell and Tyria had pulled her away.

“I’ve been there, trust me - it’s not worth it,” Tyria told Lyyr to calm her down. Kell was standing in the middle, but when Vek stood he had his claws out. Those things will cut through human flesh easily, maybe even a Quarren’s too.

Radie had moved off to the side, one hand at her holstered blaster pistol, and Dorset took cover behind a table while peeking out over the top. Vek started to advance on Kell, Tyria, and Lyyr-

Voort moved faster than Dorset thought a Gamorrean could and effortlessly lifted the Bothan by wrapping an arm around his chest and walking backward. Vek tried to scratch him with the other hand at first, but Voort shrugged it off with a grunt and then caught his wrist without squeezing. 

“Attention on deck!” Bell yelled from the doorway. Lyyr and Vek both looked ready to fight more, but Bell was angriest of them all. Dorset wondered how much of the scuffle she’d witnessed as they jumped to their feet. If she only saw Lyyr attack Vek, and not the provocation… sithspit.

“All of you, finish eating and shower then report to the briefing room in 40 minutes - except you, Captain Loran. You’re ranking officer here and we need to talk anyway. Stoyvins, bring Officers Zatoq and Dy’la there under guard now and keep them separated until I arrive.”

***

Dorset left her hair undried and hurried up to the briefing room, having let Radie shower first. Most of the other pilots were already there, grouped by unit with their hands clasped at their backs, and she fell in line between Commander Mayn and Radie. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but being kept at parade rest until Bell returned still made Dorset nervous.

Finally she strode in from a side entrance with Loran close behind her as they all snapped to attention. Lyyr and Vek were in front, and Bell turned to face her full group of pilots.

“As you were. People, I know tempers are high after the last few weeks and now today’s news. But you’re the representatives of Starfighter Command here - I expect you to hold yourselves to a higher standard. This was the third brawl that I know of aboard Liberty since Admiral Ackbar was taken into custody. If you’re going to keep pretending your command is superior to us fleet personnel, then act like kriffing professionals. That means no fighting and no disrespecting our chain of command - which, until a military court verdict says otherwise, includes the admiral.”

Bell’s eyes shifted around them before turning back to the unfortunate pair closest to her.

“Flight Officer Dy’la, I’m confining you to quarters for the next seven days without pay,” she told him before nodding to Stoyvins. Two security guards stepped forward to escort Dy’la away.

“Now - Flight Officer Zatoq, stand at attention. Whatever was said to inspire it, striking a fellow pilot as you did causes lasting damage to the unit. I’m removing you from Rover Squadron and transferring you off my ship. Pack your things and report to the shuttle hangar tomorrow at 1100 for reassignment. You’re fortunate that Captain Loran helped make your new arrangements.”

Lyyr sniffled but didn’t waver from her position. “Yes, Commander. Who will I be reporting to?”

Bell held a stern expression, but Dorset swore she winked at Lyyr. 

“Commander Antilles of Rogue Squadron. I believe you’ve heard of him; you’ll be a provisional unit member for now. Fall back in formation, Flight Officer - I have more news for everyone.”

Lyyr rejoined the Rover pilots one last time, and Dorset had to fight from smiling. Bell handled this by the book - but she’s ‘punishing’ Lyyr by ordering the transfer of her dreams. Plus she still can say her goodbyes tonight rather than having to catch a shuttle immediately. That will ensure the crew knows where their captain’s loyalty lies, even if Bell didn’t and can’t tell them directly.

“Captain Tabanne, it’s been an honor working together - but I’ve been told you need to head out for rapid response duties again. Same goes for the Wraiths and A-Wing pilots, I’m afraid, though we’ll receive additional B-Wing pilots transferred from Duster Squadron shortly,” Bell said.

Dorset glanced over at Radie and Linna; neither looked happy they would be leaving. Then Bell told them to take the night off and they all fell out of formation. Most of the Rovers were giving Lyyr their congratulations, and Dorset waved to the Quarren with a smile and thumbs up.

Ackbar’s loyalists will definitely hold a party in her honor tonight, even if we’re not supposed to.

***

Syrra Ried and Chea Sedgwik were both exchanging pleasantries with Face and Commander Mayn now, while the wingpair of Owen Nordan and Nir Pulastra headed for Dorset and Linna. Radie flashed a smirk at Dorset and ducked away, probably to give her formal goodbye to Bell.

“Could we each talk to you?” Nir asked them. Dorset wasn’t surprised to hear he’d apparently pulled Owen into this; Nir and Linna had been almost relentless at trying to get them together. 

Linna nodded to Nir enthusiastically and walked away, though they appeared to be just talking. That left her and Owen alone with each other - of course.

“Can this wait til later tonight?” Dorset asked. “I need to talk to Radie for a bit, and I don’t want to miss out on Lyyr’s goodbye either. Besides, I still haven’t finished beating you all at sabacc.”

Owen chuckled and nodded without complaint. Dorset wondered if he’d take that time to figure out what to say, but at least she’d made her mind up already. The rest of the rank-and-file pilots, Lyyr among them, were hurrying past and Dorset and Owen both got swept up in the throng with an amused look at each other. One of the mess halls, unused since Liberty’s crew was reduced, quickly got pressed into service for their going-away gathering.

While she hadn’t said it, Bell also seemed to want them to blow off steam after the day’s chaos. A few half-filled bottles of Whyren’s Standard had been left in a garbage bin near the room they were using, enough to give each pilot one drink, and Nir brought a music player from his room.

Dorset was glad that he and Linna had shown up, even if she shot them a bemused glare when they began steering pilots toward an improvised dancing area. 

“They’re going to make us get out there anyway,” Dorset told Owen as she took his hand and fell in line. “Let’s just do a couple quick dances, then we’ll talk later when it’s all done.”

They kept playing sabacc at the secret celebration for Lyyr too, though their commanders and the Wraiths were absent to maintain propriety. Dorset, Radie, and Linna got to tell stories of all the Rogues they’d met, warning Lyyr to keep an eye out for Lieutenant Janson’s pranks.

Eventually the party broke up, and Owen was waiting by the door for the promised conversation.

“Could I walk you back?” he asked politely. Dorset ignored Linna’s snickering and nodded.

“I know you said you didn’t want distractions from flying earlier, but I’ve enjoyed your company,” Owen told her once they were alone. “Could we at least keep in touch over the holocomms?”

Dorset sighed. “I’ve liked this too - and if we weren’t being transferred tomorrow there’s a good chance it actually would go somewhere. But I am leaving, and trying to keep up from a distance would be even more distracting. I’m sorry, Owen. I wish I could give you that, but I don’t know if I’m ready and… well, most of the couples I knew back on Mon Remonda didn’t make it through Selaggis. After seeing all that - starting something’s a risk, you know? No offense to your flying. Hopefully we’ll meet again soon once all this ends, and we can pick things back up from there. I won’t ask you to wait for it, though.”

He nodded acceptance without saying anything, and soon enough they’d reached her quarters.

“I guess that’s it,” Owen said, proper as always. “Unless - would it be too much to ask for that Alderaanian good luck trick again? Last time didn’t go so well.”

Dorset snorted. As usual, I’m way ahead of you.

“I know I said let’s pick things up when we see each other next time - but that starts tomorrow. Radie already packed her stuff and she’s not coming back,” Dorset told Owen as she took his hand and pulled him through the doorway. “We can do a whole lot more than just kiss tonight.”

Chapter Text

10

Dorset was never one for awkward goodbyes - and she’d said what she needed to already - so she silently slid out of bed and gathered up her bags without disturbing Owen’s slumber. They had packed her belongings up after the first round, and she’d showered when they were done.

Taking one last glance into the room, Dorset felt a pang of guilt as she saw Owen turn slightly in his sleep and reach over with his left arm. Then she pushed it away and hurried down to Strike.

The corvette was prepping to take off as Dorset hurried inside, and Radie smiled when she did. 

“About time,” the Corellian teased. “I’ve been stuck listening to Linna talk about how she and Nir are going to give it a try despite the distance. How’d your night go, Dors? You look tired.”

Dorset rolled her eyes, then broke into a smirk. “I’ll see how things with Owen go after this round of combat is done and we can meet again. But I think he’ll remember me for awhile at least.”

Linna chuckled. “Nir and I figured something had happened when we woke up this morning and Owen was still gone. Hey, my room had already been emptied out and Owen wasn’t there.”

Any further talk of their last night aboard Liberty was cut off as Mayn and Tabanne approached.

“Sorry, but we need to talk - the Wraiths are waiting in the briefing room,” Atril said with a grim expression. “When Commander Bell said we were going back to rapid response duty, she lied.”

***

The holoprojector in the center of the room included Commander Antilles, Captain Celchu, and a black-furred Bothan from the Rogues named Asyr Sei’lar, Admiral Firmus Nantz of First Fleet, General Airen Cracken of Intelligence, and General Edor Crespin of Starfighter Command. 

“Face, Atril - good to see you both again,” Antilles said in greeting. “Sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk with you in person when the Rogues stopped aboard Sair’s Freedom to refuel.”

The pair nodded in acknowledgement, but the meeting began without any more small talk.

“I’ll get right to it,” Cracken started in brusque fashion. “We’re here to talk about what happens next if this case against Admiral Ackbar moves forward. Councilor Organa, Solo, and Skywalker are working to assist with his defense through official channels, but this is about more discreet contingencies. If any of you don’t want to be involved, say so now.”

He was looking to the pilots specifically, and Dorset shrank back a step. We don’t belong here, but General Crespin must have vouched for us. I can’t let him down, and I won’t be the first of the group to chicken out. Even if we’re moving from piloting into political maneuvering.

Linna had an equally apprehensive look on her face, but Radie’s expression had shifted to one of cold-blooded interest.

“Very well. It’s clear to me that this is Fey’lya moving against Ackbar,” Cracken told them. “We need to predict what his next actions will be - Face, your group has a weird skill for that sort of thing. In the meantime, I have teams trying to locate the origin of the credits Ackbar supposedly embezzled. Planting money in an account is an old intelligence trick.”

“Nawara and Corran are willing to help, and I’m sure the Wraiths would be too,” Antilles said.

But the intelligence chief shook his head sadly. “That’s too dangerous - if Fey’lya learns Corran or Nawara are involved, he’ll find a way to get them reassigned. Our mutual friend is stuck on her undercover assignment, but Leia, Han, Winter, and Mirax will be doing whatever they can.”

“As for the Wraiths, I have another mission - besides their predictive analysis - that involves Ession Strike and the A-Wing pilots,” Cracken said with a sigh. “Commander Mayn, Captain Tabanne - are you willing to be detailed under Captain Loran’s authority, at least nominally?”

Tabanne nodded without hesitation, while Mayn waited for Crespin’s look of approval.

“Good. I’m dispatching you on Operation Kinetic Fracture - it’s classified deep black. I’ll be frank: the idea is to get the Wraiths deployed on orders that can’t be reversed if I’m removed next. So Face will lead you as a Rebel-style cell, attacking Imperial targets on your own initiative. I’d like to have the Rogues or Pash there too, but they’d attract too much attention,” Cracken said.

“You really think it’ll come to that - you being removed?” Linna asked.

“I’m surprised I wasn’t first - I figured Fey’lya would have an underling lined up for intelligence,” Cracken answered evenly. “I hope he doesn’t have some skifter in mind to lead the fleet.”

Dorset gulped, glancing around at the others. I’m not cut out for this espionage stuff - I’m just a pilot. And it’s directed at our own leaders. For better or worse, Radie looked queasy again too.

It’s like the whole New Republic is falling apart all around us, but there’s nothing we can do.

“If something does happen to me, Shadow Operations will defer to Major Ors regardless of who is officially in command. I hope you’ll do the same, Captain Loran - she has command codes to reach you anywhere. You’ll also be hearing from an off-the-books NRI asset that Shadow Ops doesn’t even know about - Grandyl Grieve. He’d be useful against Imperial targets in what comes next,” Cracken said.

Radie hissed in anger next to Dorset, but the others didn’t seem to notice. I’ll ask about it later.

“That covers my section - what can you two provide?” Cracken asked Nantz and Crespin.

“I have confidence in my captains,” Nantz replied. “I don’t want to read them in on this yet to protect their careers, but we all know what Gial has done for the Rebellion. They’ll be loyal. In addition, former General Calrissian led a team of irregulars about five years ago. We can get them back up and running in secret too. In fact, I believe Marshal Von Asch trained you, Edor.”

Crespin nodded, then turned to face Commander Mayn. “I’m not fully comfortable with the idea of forming a secret cabal in case Fey’lya takes over, given my Imperial background, so I think it should come down to individual squadron leaders.”

“I don’t like it either, sir,” Antilles told them all. “I took this on to help Ackbar, and I’ll avail myself in that any way I can. But I follow orders from the civilian authority… as long as they’re lawful.”

So Cracken and Nantz are ambivalent to a shadow effort against Fey’lya if he oversteps his bounds, but Crespin and Antilles rebuffed it - and we report to Crespin. Stars above.

“There’s something else you didn’t consider,” Asyr said, her fur rippling into a slightly amused expression. “I can’t help but notice I’m the only non-human on this call. If you’re going to move against Fey’lya, you’ll need the support of Councilors Tew and Kerrithrarr at the very least.”

Crespin nodded, looking a bit pale, while Cracken had leaned back and was thinking about it.

Radie raised a hand. “If I may, generals - how’s Mon Mothma handling this situation?”

Cracken turned his gaze to her. “She can’t ignore this, but she’s only placed him under house arrest rather than true confinement. Mon Mothma isn’t looking to drive Admiral Ackbar out.”

***

“What’s Shadow Ops?” Dorset asked Radie and Linna when they had all left the room and were finally alone again.

“Pash told me about them - obviously all of NRI’s operations are secret, but Shadow Ops carries greater plausible deniability because their actions could reflect badly on the New Republic. Back before we captured Coruscant, they tried to set warlords against each other by staging attacks. Word is someone else was doing that too, from what Pash said,” Linna explained to them.

“Grandyl Grieve was an elite Imperial assassin who dropped off the grid around the same time,” Radie added. “Now we know why - Cracken has Grieve in his pocket instead of executing him.”

Her raspy voice dripped with disgust, and Linna ducked away in anticipation of the coming rant. But Radie fell silent and gripped her datapad tightly instead, her knuckles nearly white.

“Ease up or you might break that,” Dorset cautioned gently. “You wanna talk about this more?”

Radie blinked in confusion before realizing what she was doing and uncurling her fingers as she shook her head at first, then broke into a barely restrained sob. Dorset wrapped an arm around Radie, guiding her into their quarters where they could continue the conversation in private. 

“It’s all this talk of lines being drawn within the fleet: what if we end up on opposite sides, Dors?” Radie whispered. “I don’t want to have to fight you, or Linna, or Mayn. Not… not Bell either.”

“What?” Dorset gasped as she tried to process the words. Those are the people in the fleet who Radie cares about most - but why does she worry we’d be in opposing factions?  

“Crespin said what he had to - but if push came to shove I’m certain he’d want us all to be on Ackbar’s side. Of course Mayn would listen to him. Linna still sees Pash as her friend and former commander, so she’d do what Airen Cracken wants. And Bell is part of the old guard, even if she’s young, not like these post-Endor crews who take Ackbar for granted.”

That’s the problem we have now - for every survivor of the Alliance era, there’s a dozen or more new officers who joined up after the New Republic was formed. They don’t know what it was like to wonder how long there’d be food to go around or if the base could be evacuated in time. And they’re used to Ackbar being on Coruscant, not leading the fleet on the front lines. I only know about all that because General Crespin insisted on telling us during training at Folor.

Radie exhaled slowly, then relaxed into a smile. “Thanks for the reality check, I needed it.”

“Before this whole thing with Ackbar, I would’ve said you think too much about what’s going on at the top,” Dorset added. “Whatever happens, we’re all going to stick together. We’re just pilots. Let the admirals and generals and councilors figure out what the kriff is going on at the top.”

“Now I’m going to focus on what I can control and check my A-Wing’s engines. Wanna come along? I can do yours too,” Dorset said as she changed into old clothes for maintenance work.

Most pilots left that sort of thing to the techs, but Dorset had spent her teen years hanging out at the spaceports. She did simple cleaning tasks in exchange for flying advice and practice - while also maintaining her own Delta-6 fighter - and so Dorset didn’t mind getting her hands dirty now. She couldn’t rebuild an entire engine alone, but the routine tests and cleaning helped her relax.

“Sure,” Radie answered after a moment’s hesitation as she pulled on utility coveralls as well. 

“I’m glad we wouldn’t have to take on Liberty’s squadrons either, not just Bell. Most of them are good people - largely inexperienced, but nice to be around. And not just the pilots in Rover and Gray; I liked the bomber crews too. You and Linna even found a pair of them you could put up with,” Radie said, smirking. 

She had never been as elitist about snubfighter choice as the others, and her R-41 model was an example of that - even if it had been shipped off to Gorom before they left Coruscant.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell the Y-Wing squadron, but I loved their name. Back when I was with the Corellian Underground, they called me the ‘Little Thorn of Coronet,’” Radie went on with a cold grin as they left the turbolift and entered the hangar. “Maybe Freedom and Liberty will be paired with Syrra’s old Destroyer Emancipator now that we’re gone - that’s another good name.”

Dorset chuckled. “Yeah, I think you’ve got a theme going there. The Imps better watch out.”

Chapter Text

11

A few minutes later and Dorset was laying flat under her A-Wing’s exposed right engine, with a lightband on her forehead and a grease tray on her stomach. Her coveralls had once been blue, but were now so covered in dark stains that Radie could’ve used them for night camouflage. 

At least her disposable half-face mask and goggles were still clean, mostly. Water and fuel were dripping from the pipes above Dorset as she scrubbed out all the ionization buildup within them. The liquid smudged across her cheeks, but she ignored it and the grease coating her forearms.

I’ll probably have to take a really long shower to get the smell of fuel out, but I don’t care as long as it doesn’t cloud up my goggles. Or spill down into my hair too much.

“It’s a shame you and Kell didn’t get together,” Radie said in amusement as she fiddled with her datapad and leaned back against her own interceptor. “I heard he helped out with maintenance work on the X-Wings back at Folor Base, too. Does Owen do that for Raven Squadron?”

Dorset felt her ears burn and slid the goggles up to glare fully in Radie’s direction as she turned sideways on the rolling sled under the A-Wing. Thank the Force the Wraiths are on the second and third floors of the hangar, with our interceptors and a couple shuttles at the top - oh sithspit, I hear someone walking towards us.

Clambering up and smoothing her rumpled coveralls - even if it was pointless - Dorset could tell her whole face was flushed red under the half-mask and fuel stains. At least it was only Linna, and she was still too far away to have heard anything about Kell.

“What were you saying about Owen?” she asked the two of them, her wide mouth up in a grin. 

“Just that he probably wouldn’t work on his own B-Wing like this,” Radie answered quickly, so Dorset would be spared any further relationship-related questions.

Linna doesn’t know about my brief interest in Kell, and it needs to stay that way. It’s bad enough that she’ll be teasing me about Owen until I see him again. I wonder where he is now.

“Oh - good, that sounds boring,” Linna told them. “Anyway, Commander Mayn wants us all to be in Briefing Room Three in fifteen minutes. The Wraiths are planning an operation we’ll fly cover for.”

“Wait - we’re not launching right after it, are we?” Dorset asked in a panic as she looked around the pieces of her A-Wing. Both J-77 engines were still out and she needed to replace its central power regulator as well. That would take the better part of an hour, plus a quick flight afterward.

“No, silly,” Linna answered scoffingly. “Word is it’ll be an early morning raid in two days. You’ll have plenty of time to finish this and clean up after we’ve been briefed in preparation.”

Dorset blinked in confusion at “clean up,” before remembering how much of her exposed skin and the coveralls were stained with grease. I’ll do that after this is done; if they’re going to pull me from my maintenance work they can deal with the consequences.  

***

When they got to the briefing room, Captains Tabanne and Loran were sitting at the front. The Wraiths were mostly seated, with the exceptions of the Gamorrean Voort SaBinring and Shalla Nelprin. The latter pilot seemed restless and was stretching an arm across her body as Dorset hid a smile over it - apparently they were both eager for constant motion.

Face rubbed at the scar on his temple, then stood and activated the holoprojector.

“Our target is an Imperial factory on the planet Halmad,” he began gravely - Loran’s voice was strained as he said the name, the way Dorset’s had been before when talking about Selaggis. 

I know better than to ask, but the Wraiths probably went there before and lost someone.

“In the wake of Zsinj’s defeat, the main Imperial Remnant forces strengthened their hold on the planet and the immediate shipping lanes from it. That’s led to a tripling of factory production on Halmad and now we know why: they’re mass-producing stormtrooper armor and fleet uniforms. This op will target the main factory complex, with a ground team collecting intelligence before calling in the snubfighter assault element. The objective is to destroy two-thirds of the factories or more, and hide any sign of the ground intrusion. Hopefully they think it was a random strike.

“Kell will lead the main ground element inserted from an old Sheathipede shuttle tomorrow, and I’ll lead the aerial team of snubfighters and Ession Strike. Tyria and Shalla are with Kell - damn, I miss having Myn around for overwatch. Lieutenant Felian, could we borrow you for that role? You’d be kept back away from any real danger, so don’t worry about that.”

Radie blinked, looking toward Dorset in dismay. Face had asked because of her shooting ability during the pirates’ attempt to capture Swift Liberty, but that came from her year in the Corellian Underground - Radie’s most close-kept secret. She couldn’t refuse a request like this either; it would be very unlike her to opt out of action. 

So instead Radie nodded glumly and let them continue on with the briefing. Dorset didn’t know why Radie was so private about the past, but she respected it. Hopefully this didn’t lead to any prying questions from the Wraiths.

“Wingpairs for the bombing run will be myself and Dia, Runt and Piggy, Elassar and Lieutenant Konnair - if that’s alright with you - plus Commander Mayn and Lieutenant Irarch in the A-Wings. Any questions? I sent a message to Elscol but I’m not sure if she’ll be able to join us for this and Sixtus’ group isn’t known for subtle entries either. We’ll move ahead with the op either way.”

Dorset didn’t understand who or what Face was talking about, but nodded along as if she did. It was far from the first time; if the Wraiths had needed her to know then they would have told her.

Linna had a hand raised, even though she was looking more toward Commander Mayn. 

“Since the Wraiths had those other two X-Wings painted with black and red stripes, can I please go back to a yellow base coat? Red is boring,” she asked plaintively. Dorset rolled her eyes, but Face seemed intrigued by the possibility and so Mayn wasn’t rejecting it out of hand yet.

“Actually that could lead the Empire to believe we’re just a ragtag set of fighters pulled together by necessity. I say go for it, the worst that would happen is they don’t notice,” Face told them. 

Well then if Linna gets to paint her A-Wing yellow, I’m going for blue. Radie already has her’s set up in dark red with the three off-white stripes so it’s only fair.

“Since you’re going to be flying with us, would you be willing to use an X-Wing?” Kell was asking as Dorset snapped back from her colorful thoughts. “I understand you’re flight-qualified in them now.”

She glanced around the room and smirked. “I can fly anything, I just chose the best snubfighter. But sure, I’ll borrow an X-Wing this time so the rest of you can keep up with my shadow.”

After the briefing, Elassar started to approach Dorset until he sniffed the bit of fuel that had dried on her clothes and face. She gave him credit for having not been deterred by the lines of grease on her forearms before that, though.

“Why do you smell like rocket fuel?” Elassar asked with a look of mild concern. Dorset giggled, remembering the stories she’d heard of him on Mon Remonda. 

“Before mission briefings, we A-Wing pilots sprinkle ourselves with it for luck,” she lied blithely. “You should try it sometime.”

***

Dorset felt a bit out of place in the standard orange flightsuit and full helmet of an X-Wing pilot, but seeing Radie in brown-and-green-patterned fatigues with matching face paint and a black knit cap covering her flame-red hair was even stranger. She wore black gloves, with a DLT-20A blaster rifle slung over her right shoulder and the personal Se-14c pistol strapped to her left hip.

The three Wraiths making up the insertion team, on the other hand, wore Imperial uniforms: Kell was in stormtrooper armor while Tyria and Shalla were dressed as regular Army officers. 

“Halmad still doesn’t have routine boarding checks, so we should be able to land in the forests and move in on foot. The whole point is for Radie not to be seen; we’ll keep her safe. Besides, she’s taking this seriously - maybe a little too much,” Tyria told Dorset for reassurance as she looked at the face paint. The Wraiths still gave the A-Wing pilots a moment in private, though.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Dorset asked Radie worriedly. “This is different from when we went up against those ship thieves on Liberty, you won’t have any immediate support.”

“I’ll be fine,” Radie answered with a smile as she wrapped the long rifle barrel with green netting. “The trick is how I’ll explain that to the Wraiths. I appreciate you not asking questions, Dors, but my time in the underground included training for this sort of thing. Those habits don’t fade.”

Dorset nodded, feeling only half-relieved, but then Face gave Radie a new device for her scope.

“It’s the latest NRI tech - sends a nearly real-time video feed back to Strike, and since we’ll be a microjump away you can use it to call us in during an emergency. The rest of the team can’t use them in the factory, but the Imps couldn’t trace this back to your position either,” Face told her.

“Great, you mean the whole ship will judge my long-range accuracy?” Radie asked sarcastically as she attached the device to her rifle and peered back through the scope to check it. “Guess I’ll be under a bit of pressure now after all. Kell, you’re demolitions - got any extra grenades?”

“I really don’t think you’ll need them,” he answered, but still scrounged up three and handed them over after pointing out where to pull the pin and how quickly to throw them.

Radie nodded, clipping them to her belt and turning back to Dorset as she lowered her voice.

“He’s got a point, but if we run into that Dark Jedi rumored to be around now… well, explosives can’t hurt right? Lightsabers will deflect blaster bolts but not fire and shrapnel,” Radie whispered softly. As much as she tried to hide it, Dorset could tell Radie was rattled by the prospect.

“Hopefully you don’t have to find out - but if an evil force-user shows up, call us in for air support and run,” Dorset replied. “Are their powers really a match for a snubfighter and torps? I doubt it.”

***

Dorset breathed a sigh of relief as Radie activated her live-feed and confirmed that the mission was going according to plan. She’d had to jump out of the shuttle with an ejection pack and float down into Halmad’s forest, then walk 10 klicks to get into position outside the factory the Wraiths would hopefully be able to infiltrate with their fabricated identities.

Radie was laying in a patch of moss under a fallen tree, and had arranged the branches to hide herself and the long-barreled rifle. The Imperials had stepped up security since last time, Face told the other pilots watching the feed - Radie’s scope showed two AT-STs at the factory’s gates. That wouldn’t be a problem for the snubfighters, but if the ground team was discovered… 

Dorset shuddered again in spite of the Wraiths’ assurances. The last time Radie had been on a mission without her, it resulted in the disastrous ambush at Xyquine II. And of course the close brush with death at Atravis - for all of them - still weighed on her.

Haven’t we lost enough people at Selaggis? Why can’t the Empire just give in? But given all the rumors that the Imps had some new commander - and the fact that their tactics were improving - it was clear why the war was continuing with no end in sight. 

The plan was for the Wraiths to send Radie a coded signal when they had completed their work in the factory and were headed out. She would in turn tell Ession Strike to jump in, even though that meant they would be off comms for five long minutes of hyperspace. Assuming that nothing went wrong. But the Wraiths’ passes might be challenged; Imperial security might ask why they were snooping around whatever was being produced within the factory. 

A patrol might detect Radie’s lifesign and call in the AT-STs or TIE Bombers to check it out.

Dorset glanced down at her foot and realized it was tapping against the floor rapidly. At least Elassar looked almost as tense as they all waited for the order to get in their fighters; his luck charms must not have worked as intended that morning. Dorset didn’t put any stock in such superstitions, but she hoped it wouldn’t affect his flying as her wingmate for the mission.

Linna walked over to where Dorset was sitting on the ladder propped against her X-Wing and gently tapped her knee so her leg would stop shaking.

“Radie’s prepared for this as best she can be,” Linna said with a comforting smile. “I heard her telling Kell about how much reading she did on ground tactics before they took off.”

Dorset blinked in surprise, then nodded. That wasn’t true - Radie had only checked her blasters for a bit - but then she had to explain her experience to the Wraiths somehow. 

“Yeah,” Dorset lied in what she hoped was a convincing tone, while making a note to ask Radie for a heads-up next time. “I had to finally tell her to put that datapad away so I could sleep.”

Thankfully Linna didn’t get a chance to ask about it further - Radie was whispering into the feed that the Wraiths were heading out, and it was time to send in Strike and the snubfighters.

Chapter Text

12

Dorset was glad the Wraiths had gotten to the point of bringing in Ession Strike for their main assault on Halmad’s factory without incident. The downside was that they - and Radie - were alone for the five minute trip to hyperspace. But there was no more time to worry about them.

Now she needed to think about herself - focus on preflight checks of the X-Wing she borrowed from Kell since he was on the ground with Tyria and Shalla. Voort was relaying in the precise coordinates they would use to exit hyperspace in atmosphere, almost directly over the factory.

Dorset shook her head over it - the precise mathematics being trusted to a Gamorrean. She didn’t have a problem with the idea, but it wasn’t something she thought possible until meeting the Wraiths and hearing how he’d been genetically modified. Most Coruscanti humans looked down on Voort’s species in particular, at least during her childhood under Imperial control, but Dorset had helped ease the pain of some Gamorreans during the Krytos virus period. She felt bad she hadn’t been able to save most of them, but still didn’t dare call Voort by his nickname.

Her X-Wing’s flight computer beeped, and Dorset nodded in satisfaction - the engines were all running at optimal levels, her laser cannons were charged, and she had a full rack of torpedoes.

“All systems primed,” Dorset told Face when it was her turn in the list of pilots on the mission.

Elassar was next, then Commander Mayn and Linna in their A-Wings. They would be the first line of defense against Halmad’s TIE Interceptors, along with whichever X-Wings weren’t busy with bombing runs. Ession Strike could help with both roles as well, and one of its light shuttles would be dispatched to retrieve Radie if she couldn’t wait to rejoin the Wraiths on the ground.

“Sixty seconds,” Captain Tabanne told them over the comm. “Face - confirm all magnetic seals are in place, we’ll be opening the hangar doors after you do.”

They all confirmed their fighters’ landing struts were locked down, and then the doors lumbered apart even though they were still in hyperspace for another 40 seconds. Dorset could see the swirling blue lines wrap around Ession Strike - her X-Wing was alongside Elassar’s, just behind the two A-Wings flown by Linna and Commander Mayn. The greater height of the X-Wing gave her an unobstructed view, one she wouldn’t mind seeing more on a regular basis. Looking out a small window port was good, but this stretched from one side of the rebuilt hangar to another.

“Ten seconds,” Loran was telling them all. “Arm weapons and prepare to fly out by wingpairs.”

The last moments before combat ticked by slowly, like standing at the edge of a cliff and diving into the waters below. All Dorset could do was trust in herself and her wingmate - even though Elassar was less of a known quantity than Radie or Linna. At least he’d been at Selaggis too.

A timer dinged in the cockpit, and the blue lines began to unspool around them as Ession Strike streaked out of hyperspace within the atmosphere. Dorset could hear the massive boom that resulted and saw the shockwave of displaced air around them. The corvette’s nose was facing down at the factory, its engines applying full reverse thrust to arrest their descent.

The two A-Wings launched first out of the sideways hangar and raced down, looking for targets. Dorset and Elassar were next, though the X-Wing was sluggish and less responsive compared to the smaller interceptors she preferred and knew best.

“Eyes up,” Mayn was cautioning. “I show five stormtroopers running toward an anti-air turret on the rooftop - southeast corner. We won’t have an angle before they get it up and firing. Strike, better get your shields angled to the front. How quickly can you maneuver to engage?”

“We have to hold here until the Wraiths are away and Kell says they’re clear of the factory - wait, I see ground fire aimed at the turret crew. Looks like Radie’s sniper rifle,” Atril replied to Mayn. 

Dorset could see the red blaster bolts now as they zipped out from somewhere in the forest and caught the lead stormtrooper in the shoulder, dropping him to the ground. Radie had already hit two others in front of him, and the remaining pair were diving for cover. Damn, she’s fast at that.

“We’re clear of the factory but we got a squad of troopers on our six!” Kell yelled into the comm.

“I see it - head for the ditch 20 meters to the left and get down,” Radie told him. It was good she had an angle on them, because there wasn’t much distance between the Wraiths on the ground and the stormtroopers for a starfighter to engage the pursuers with lasers safely.

The X-Wings and A-Wings were opening up on the factory now, as did Ession Strike, but Dorset kept an eye on the ground to where Radie was mowing down the stormtrooper squad with her sniper rifle - they’d chased the three Wraiths out into the open and had no cover. But the AT-ST was lumbering into action and had the range to hit the trees from its current position. Oh sithspit.

“Radie, get out of there!” Mayn yelled - she’d noticed the danger from the scout transport too.

“I’m moving,” Radie hissed on the comm, moments before the trees behind her started blowing up from the AT-ST’s blaster fire. She was running full-out now. “Someone want to hit that thing?”

“It’s mine,” Dorset replied angrily. The AT-ST crew had to know they’d die within seconds, but they were still focused on trying to kill her wingmate before that happened. “Torpedo away!”

The missile streaked out from the nose of her X-Wing, its engine white-hot, and obliterated the AT-ST in a shower of metal fragments and clumps of dirt seconds later. Scratch one walker.

“Four TIEs inbound from the local combat air patrol, unless they’ve upped their scramble time,” Face told them. “Todra, they’re all yours.”

Dorset grinned as she watched the two A-Wings race off to meet the squints, then shifted focus back to the ground and the factory burning below them. Thick plumes of black smoke rose from it, and Ession Strike was continuing to blast one section after another until nothing was left.

“Heads up, another two flights of TIEs are in the air and inbound fast. Elassar, Dorset, Piggy, and Runt - engage them while Dia and I keep screening the Strike,” Face ordered next. 

She rocked her wings in acknowledgement and kicked on the afterburners, sighing at how the fighter was still painfully slow. How the kriff do the Wraiths and Rogues dogfight in these things, anyway? Sure I’ve flown X-Wings on Gorom and Headhunters during training - but there’s a lot of difference between that and real world scenarios. They can’t even snaproll properly.

With enemy TIEs about to enter firing range from above, Dorset missed the A-Wing’s ability to rotate its cannons too. Packing four of them was a decent tradeoff at least, and she bared her teeth in a predator’s smile while her first set of linked shots picked a TIE Fighter apart.

“Score another one for us A-Wing pilots,” Dorset teased the Wraiths. “That makes five after Mayn and Linna took out the earlier flight. You guys can start chipping in whenever, no hurry.”

“I just needed time to calculate their approach pattern,” Voort said in his grating artificial voice. “Runt, with me. Swing right and attack the trailing flight from vector ninety-four. It should only take 30 seconds to eliminate them. Can you two handle seven TIEs for that long?”

“Of course,” Dorset replied in amusement. “Elassar, form up - we’ll punch through them and draw the group toward Voort and Runt. These crates have good rear shielding, right, guys?”

She squeezed the trigger and was pleased to see her and Elassar had both claimed another TIE Fighters each, but then their formations had passed and the more maneuverable eyeballs were looping behind them. Dorset jerked the stick toward the left, groaning as the X-Wing took several seconds to fully complete the movement and began to shake under enemy fire.

I might as well be in a damn Y-Wing, at least those bombers could have rear guns. She toggled the shield strength, then cursed as a single laser blast punched through anyway and bored into one of her engines. Its energy levels were dropping by a quarter and she could see sparks, but then again the X-Wing’s four engines were an improvement over both A-Wings and Y-Wings. 

The TIEs were still blasting away with singular focus, but a glance to her right showed that Voort and his group were about to fall upon them within seconds. We’re finally done being the bait. 

“Ground team to Strike - we’ve linked up with Radie on the ground but could use a pickup. Will explain on board, but our exfil plan was blown,” Kell said once the TIEs had been swept away.

“Copy that, Theta One is inbound. Dorset and Elassar, can you cover it?” Atril asked them. The CR90 corvette had received four shuttles from various scrapyards while it was docked at Sluis Van and they were coming in handy now, even if their Sheathipede was being left behind.

“Wilco - Elassar, join me in circling their descent and watch for any ground fire too,” Dorset said. “This is the most dangerous part of the mission for them. If some stormtrooper comes out with a portable missile launcher… Do not let that happen. We can take the blast, they can’t.”

She moved her X-Wing between the shuttle and what was left of the factory, watching the front with narrowed eyes. A few Imperial officers were running out from one section, but Dorset held her fire when she saw they didn’t have visible weapons that could threaten her fighter. Then she winced as Radie dropped them anyway. She’s got a scope, maybe she saw something I didn’t.

“We’re all aboard and lifting off,” Radie said over the comm as their Theta-class shuttle lowered its wings again and raced skyward.

“Good,” Face Loran told her. “If there’s a next time, try not to give away your position so quickly. We could’ve handled that anti-air tower. But thanks for watching their backs on the way out.”

“Sure. I wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing after coming all this way,” Radie answered, her voice even raspier than usual. Dorset could tell there was a bit of derision in her tone as well.

***

“So what did you find in there anyway, if it’s not secret?” Dorset asked Kell and Tyria once they had all landed and Ession Strike managed to race away before the local Star Destroyers could intercept them. Shalla and Face were off to brief General Cracken on that subject as well.

“Lots of stormtrooper armor and other uniforms being produced, but without much variation to them,” Kell replied as he thumbed through some pictures on a concealable holo-recorder.

Tyria nodded as well, her brow furrowed. “It’s weird - I could sense… I don’t know, I can’t put it into words yet. There’s something going on with the stormtrooper armor we should know about.”

Kell patted her on the back reassuringly, and Dorset turned away to give them a moment. Radie had returned from cleaning the face paint off and changing back into a flightsuit and her vest.

“So, how much did Linna tease you for flying that slowpoke X-Wing?” she asked Dorset with an amused expression - even if it was a bit forced.

“Nothing yet, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later,” Dorset replied with a giggle before looking grim herself. “You were pretty aggressive out there at the end, sniping those officers - everything ok?”

Radie sighed in displeasure before shrugging. “I think so. Being back in the forest like that… it reminded me of when my mom was killed by the Imps. Maybe I took it out on them a bit, but I stayed within the rules of engagement. I’m just glad I could make a difference this time. As far as I can tell, the Wraiths haven’t asked any questions about how I was so good at shooting.”

“Yeah…that reminds me, Linna overheard you talking to Kell about studying on your datapad - I had to change what I was saying quickly to cover for it. Could you just warn me next time?”

“Oh, kriff. Dors, I’m sorry about that - you shouldn’t have to lie for me again. But thanks.” Radie was visibly dismayed by the news, so Dorset let it go. She instead turned back around to where Kell and Tyria were now looking at his damaged X-Wing.

“We had to run the gauntlet of TIEs for Voort and Runt and a few got behind me, sorry - I hope that engine can be replaced,” Dorset told him. “If you get a new one I can install it at least.”

Kell glanced down toward where the Wraiths kept their X-Wings in the lower hangars and shrugged. “We actually have a few in storage so that won’t be a problem. General Cracken has a line-item just for us, it has its advantages. Maybe don’t tell General Crespin I said that.”

“I think our silence there can be bought with spare A-Wing parts - what about you, Radie?”

“One of my laser cannons is rusty and Linna was complaining about her inertial compensator. I’ll go make a list and I’m sure we’ll forget where the money came from after that,” she replied. “We are detailed under Face’s command at Cracken’s request, after all, Kell. It’s only right to share.”

Chapter Text

13

Dorset got to work scrubbing the grease from her forearms and hands again once she’d finished putting the new engine in Kell’s X-Wing, then placed the borrowed hydrospanner and pliers back on the tool shelf. Radie had been disassembling, cleaning, and rebuilding her blasters while she waited and Linna was off on another holo-call with Nir; they all had their own after-action rituals.

Now it was time to join the Wraiths and Captain Tabanne for an update on the situation back at Coruscant. Dorset still had mixed feelings about being briefed on such turmoil by the generals, but being connected to Crespin and the Wraiths did have its privileges. Like the box full of spare A-Wing parts Kell brought up to their hangar as she was working on his snubfighter. The Wraiths had planned ahead for refit needs, it seemed. As long as they didn’t want to borrow her A-Wing.

“Guess who a little avian told me just made flight leader back on Swift Liberty,” Linna teased her as they were all walking into the briefing room. “Owen even got promoted to lieutenant, but he’s still paired with Nir at least. They shunted the Duster Squadron transfers into a full Third Flight.”

Dorset rolled her eyes, but couldn’t avoid a little smile at the reminder while they finished sitting down and waited for the briefing to start. General Cracken, Commander Antilles, and Lieutenant Janson all appeared on the holoboard, and Dorset was surprised to see Janson looking grim.

“Councilor Fey’lya’s saying this is the latest example of Admiral Ackbar’s misjudgments, tying it to Xyquine II as well, and floating the idea this could even be outright treason,” Cracken began. Dorset didn’t glance over to her left, but she knew Radie was fuming. “It gets worse: General Solo confirms that there is a grand admiral leading the Imperial forces, and he’s non-human. Mon Mothma wants that to be confirmed before letting it out further, but I trust Solo’s report.”

Captain Tabanne had gasped at the remark that the grand admiral wasn’t human. Dorset didn’t blame her - they had both grown up on Imperial-held Coruscant and knew how deeply instilled the Empire’s prejudices against aliens were. For that same Empire to have promoted one, even in secret, to the highest fleet rank… Kriffing stars, he has to be very good at what he does. And he now controls the remainder of the Imperial fleet, so they accept his rank without question.

What’s more, this could undermine the moral high ground we’ve had to appeal to all species if his identity is widely disseminated. Especially pitted against our removal of a Mon Cal supreme commander and potential replacement with a human admiral or general, since there’s so many.

“Is that all, sir?” Face asked. But of course Cracken shook his head.

“They used a cloaking shield to sneak those TIEs past our scans at Sluis Van. I’d hoped that sort of technology died with Zsinj, but no luck. And there’s been more attempted ship hijackings too. Skywalker and General Calrissian stopped a team right after the attack - word is the Empire will pay market value plus 20 percent for anything warship grade. They want a mixed fleet now.”

Atril cursed this time, her hands balled into fists. From what Dorset had pieced together, Wraith Squadron had captured Ession Strike from Zsinj early in its secret existence. Its current captain would rather die than see it taken back by the Empire; Dorset could understand that too.

“I’ll step up anti-boarding drills, sir, and make sure everyone on board has a blaster,” Atril told the general before managing a wry smile and turning her head slightly. “I think the contents of Radie’s quarters would get us close to that goal on their own.”

Dorset barely suppressed a laugh, but knew the Wraiths would have an arsenal aboard as well. Ession Strike would be okay - it was the rest of the fleet they needed to worry about now. And who commanded it back on Coruscant.

“Good - give your security squad leaders life sensors, if you can. Calrissian said the crew from Sluis Van had a Defel working with them,” the intelligence chief told them. 

Tyria cursed at that, and Dorset leaned over to ask her what a Defel was.

“Natives of Af’El - their skin doesn’t reflect visible light, at least to human eyes, so they can hide easily. It’s what I based the idea of Wraith Squadron’s name off of,” Tyria whispered in response.

“At least my position remains secure,” Cracken went on. “Fey’lya’s backed off slightly, though that may mean he’s content to watch the process play out in regard to Ackbar. The silver lining to all this is we may have more luck getting smugglers to our side, or at least committing to stay neutral. Kell, didn’t you have an old contact on the fringe?”

“Yes - I can try to reach out to Mazzic but he may not remember me. Winter isn’t available to help, is she?” Kell replied. Shalla and Elassar both looked as surprised as Dorset at this bit of his history. So he was a commando, a mechanic, and worked on the fringe before flying?

Now Elassar had raised his right hand, the left fiddling with some coin nervously. “If the Empire is hiring ship thieves, do we need to worry about bounty hunters again as well?”

At least they caught a break on that one, because Cracken shook his head. “There’s been no sign of increased activity. And nothing about Boba Fett in over five years, not since Carkoon.”

“Thank the Force,” Kell muttered before glancing at the others. “As famous as his armor is, Fett was a master of disguise too. You could be working with him for days and never know it.”

Radie nodded as well, her face pale and a finger twitching against her holstered pistol. I guess I know one of the few things that scare her now, Dorset thought. Good thing he’s gone. 

***

The new pace of the war continued over the next week, even if the Wraiths were busy looking into the Ackbar situation and the A-Wing pilots had little to do but refresh their small arms skills. Dorset and Linna didn’t mind the break from combat, even if Radie was on edge now and would frequently check whether her interceptor could launch at a moment’s notice. She even slept with her DL-44 tucked under her pillow or on the small table nearby sometimes.

I hope she finds a way to adjust when the war ends. If it ends. We thought Zsinj was the last one between us and relative victory, but now it’s this grand admiral - and maybe a Dark Jedi.

As much as she savored not being in action now, Dorset couldn’t ignore the reality around them. So she found herself poring over the daily bulletins and relaying what she’d read to the others.

Most of it was bad news. The Imps had carried out another multi-pronged attack at Taanab - it explained why Janson had looked grim - and destroyed a New Republic warship even as it tried to surrender. Linna lost a friend from flight school when his convoy was ambushed and the bulk carrier guarding it was crippled. He’d been an A-Wing pilot, but should’ve never had escort duty.

The worst update didn’t come until early in the next week.

“They’ve confirmed the Empire has that Dark Jedi working for them,” Dorset said regretfully as she skimmed through the latest intelligence updates. “Skywalker met with him, only to find he’d gone insane. The report says this woman helped in the escape after the Dark Jedi was knocked unconscious, but Skywalker kept her from executing the guy then and there.”

“A crazy Dark Jedi, left alive when he could’ve been killed easily? Kriff’s sake,” Radie muttered scornfully after Dorset finished reading the report. “I like her style, though.”

“That’s against our code of combat!” Dorset exclaimed, recoiling at the offhand response. “I get that he scares you - I’m terrified of facing a Dark Jedi too - but we can’t betray our service oaths like that… It’s borderline Imperial to shoot somebody in the back while they’re knocked out. Or to kill them when they’re surrendering; look what just happened to Linna’s old pal!”

“I know,” Radie said with a poorly restrained eyeroll. “I’m not angling to get court-martialed now. But when I spent that year in the underground on Corellia, first in the mountains and then within Coronet City - we barely had enough resources to treat our own wounded, let alone guarding a bunch of Imp officers. So we did what was necessary, and given how my mom was killed… I took part in that too, without regret. Judge me if you must, Dors - I’m glad you weren’t there.”

Radie held Dorset’s gaze for a moment before continuing. “Dogfighting has a veneer of honor for you and Linna, but having fought on the ground - well, I’ll kill my enemies any way I can. I don’t care if it’s vaping TIEs head-to-head or sticking a vibroblade in their backs. We fought hoping the next generation on Corellia would be spared the war, as our predecessors did. But yes, I knew some of it was wrong and it’s good you’re reacting the way you just did.”

“Now you see why I don’t like to talk about my life before enlisting. Ro could understand, but the rest of Blue Squadron at Folor had the idealistic view of starfighter combat.” Radie smiled sadly. “My Rylothean name would’ve meant silver blade, though she joked of course there’d be lots of red on it too. The rest of you were pilots, but we were warriors. There’s a distinction to that.”

Dorset nodded, still shaken by this revelation. “Is… is there anything you regret from it?”

Radie exhaled slowly, weighing her answer. “One thing, maybe, but I try not to think about that too much any more. And trust me, Dors - you don’t want to know what it is.”

The cold look in Radie's eyes as she spoke sent a shiver down Dorset’s back, so she let their conversation end without further questions or protests.

***

The Wraiths still hadn’t solved the puzzle around Ackbar’s supposed bank account, and Face’s regrets about lacking a slicer had been overheard more than once. Ackbar’s absence was felt as orders had to be cleared by the Provisional Council and top military commanders - “probably kriffing Drayson,” Radie had groused one morning while they debated the group’s ability to keep up with the grand admiral. At least they only answered to Cracken and NRI, by way of Face.

Today, that meant Ession Strike was going to attack an Imperial convoy transporting foodstuffs. It wasn’t the most tactically critical target, but as Voort pointed out even stormtroopers needed to eat sometimes. During the briefing, Face and Kell told them the convoy would be leaving the planet Saffalore - technically neutral, though the company selling the rations had been owned by Zsinj and was now under Imperial control - and traveling on the Hydian Way until it dropped out of hyperspace at Bandomeer to gather more supplies for further transportation.

Since Strike had been loitering in the general vicinity of Halmad following that mission, it would be easy to swoop in at nearby Bandomeer and hit the convoy before fading away. The intel they had received said it included a Gozanti cruiser and three Action IX transports, with a squadron of TIE Fighters transported between them. Thankfully there were no Corporate Sector Authority personnel aboard, as the New Republic couldn’t afford to draw them into the war now as well.

Even Radie - who had been eager to attack the Authority back when they thought the Imperial forces would be neutralized after Kuat - had grudgingly understood it would now have to wait.

Dorset didn’t believe much in blue milk runs, but Strike could handle the Gozanti with ease and the TIEs would be little match for her group and the Wraiths. That only left three barely-armed transports, and then the New Republic would be able to take the ration supply for its troops.

“All hands, battle stations. Standby for hyperspace exit. Pilots, launch in 60 seconds,” Atril told them over Strike’s comm channel. “May the Force be with us.”

Dorset wasn’t as sure of that any more - given the report of the Dark Jedi - but at least she was back with her beloved A-Wing. She cinched the straps in place and warmed up its engines and weapons, then began a countdown for what remained of the minute.

Strike’s hangar doors slid open at 10 seconds left, and Dorset could see just a bit of the blue lines of hyperspace before it dropped out at Bandomeer. Maybe I’ll use those lines as a new tattoo concept, she thought quickly as her A-Wing rocketed out toward the convoy. 

The TIE Fighters had dropped from the Gozanti on ready alert, but it took little effort for each A-Wing to vape their assigned target and speed through the attempt at turbolaser return fire from the cruiser. The X-Wings took out the remaining TIE Fighters as they launched from the Action IX transports, and the A-Wings shot out the transports’ engines in short order as well.

Atril’s crew was going to work on the Gozanti, and within two minutes it was burning from the inside out. That just left the three Action IX transports, already immobilized and barely armed.

“Transport crews - this is Captain Atril Tabanne of the New Republic warship Ession Strike, formerly an Imperial officer myself. You have no meaningful way to engage us and are adrift. Surrender and I promise you’ll be treated well as prisoners of war. You have 90 seconds to decide,” she told them over a general comm frequency.

Dorset, Radie, and Linna had all positioned themselves in front of a transport, with three of the Wraiths backing them up. Commander Mayn and Captain Loran were closer to Strike, awaiting orders on whether to attack.

“If they don’t go for this, I think I can strafe their bridges without damaging the rest of the ship,” Radie told the two leaders over the joint group channel. “There’s no challenge to that, but I’ll deal with it better than the rest of you. Let me take this off your hands. I’m good with it.”

“Standby, Four. We’ll keep that under consideration. They have 70 seconds left,” Mayn said.

Dorset grimaced as she listened, remembering what Radie had told her about the Corellian underground group not taking Imperial prisoners. Technically these transport crews were still valid combatants, but only in the loosest possible sense. At least she’s doing it, not me.

The transports gave no response, though Atril confirmed they had heard her request. So Mayn sent Radie in on her attack vector with an order to fire on each ship in turn, a few seconds apart.

“I copy. Rolling in,” Radie answered tersely as her A-Wing neared the closest Action IX.

“No! Break off now!” Atril yelled suddenly, and for a moment Dorset thought the transport crews had given a final-minute surrender. “Everyone pull back a klick immediately!”

“Radie!” Dorset called out as she swung around and kicked in the afterburners herself, watching the reflection of the now-distant transports on the top of her canopy.

Then they each exploded in balls of fire and shrapnel, all on their own.

Kriff!

“Radie, do you read? Come in, Radie, please!” 

“I’m okay,” Radie answered before coughing. “It got toasty back there and I have smoke in the cockpit, but I think I can bring my A-Wing back without needing to eject.”

Toasty is under-describing it, Dorset thought as she looked over the interceptor once it had set down and was being hosed off by fire safety teams. The stabilizers were scorched black, and it had scraps of metal embedded all along the rear half of the fuselage. Radie climbed out slowly, then drank some water as she stood next to her damaged snubfighter.

“You’re sure you’ll be fine?” Dorset asked tentatively once she’d reached her wingmate - she didn’t want to bring it up, but the events had been worryingly similar to Ro’aven’s death.

“I’ll get through it - I know what you mean, Dors. But that’s how this goes: we try to kill them and they do the same, and today we succeeded in taking a bunch of them off the board. Next time could be the reverse, but I won’t dwell on that and you shouldn’t either,” Radie answered before patting Dorset on the shoulder with a bit of a smile. “Thanks for the concern, though. Wanna get something to eat?”

“Sorry, but you’ll need to wait - there’s snacks in the briefing room. Face, gather your people and assemble there in 10 minutes as well,” Atril told them all. “There was a major battle in the Halm sector, and it didn’t go well. General Cracken just transmitted the details.”

Chapter Text

14

“Who here knows about the Katana fleet?” Atril began once they’d all sat down and gotten some food to eat. Radie raised her hand after a moment, as did Commander Mayn and a few Wraiths.

Dorset had only heard of it in passing, as part of arguments why crewed starfighters were still needed rather than using droid ships. Apparently it vanished a few decades before the Empire.

“Okay - the Katana fleet was a group of dreadnaughts that were slave-circuited together to limit crew needs down to around 2,000 per ship. The trouble is they got a disease that drove them all insane, and it spread to each one before any symptoms emerged. Then all 200 ships jumped to hyperspace and were never seen again. Until now, unfortunately, because that’s what the battle in the Halm sector was over. There was a race to the fleet, and the Imps got most of them first.”

Dorset glanced over. Radie’s earlier cool demeanor had been lost and she looked horrified now. Linna was gravely concerned as well, and the Wraiths were talking among themselves over it.

“Back during their Thyferra operation, the Rogues managed to find an old Alderaanian warship on autopilot. Maybe there’s more of them somehow,” Linna whispered hopefully.

“Sorry to dash that, but it was just a Thranta-class cruiser. Picture a Carrack with less weapons,” Radie told them both. Dorset scowled as she sat between them. Now they have a better leader at the fleet level and a whole bunch of new warships - but how will the Imps crew them quickly?   

Of course Atril’s next statement ruined Dorset’s glimmer of hope, though.

“What’s more, it’s been confirmed that the Empire found cloning technology too - and it’s already led to production, for lack of a better word, of troop units. I think that’s why those transport crews blew up their own ships rather than surrender: so we wouldn’t find out they were clones.”

That’s it then - bright kriffing stars, we were on the edge of victory and now we’re going to lose. The Imps have the advantage in skill, warships, and personnel. We’re already spread too thin and they can roll over us like a black tide until they take Coru- no, Imperial Center, once more.

Once again, it was clear Linna was thinking the same. But Radie’s face had settled back into cold resolve as she stood and looked around the room at everyone else’s despair.

“So what if they have a new armada? They can capture Coruscant - let them. The New Republic was declared without it. Our fight would go on. We stand on the shoulders of beings from every background who decided rebellion was worth the cost and too often paid it in blood. As long as we have warships like this one and starfighters to fly or blasters to shoot, it’s not over. No matter how many planets they hold,” Radie told them defiantly. “Damn the odds, I never needed them.”

Another quick glance around the room showed her words had taken hold among the Wraiths, and Commander Mayn was nodding proudly. Even Dorset felt better already.

“We saw you have experience as a sniper - do you have a speechwriter mind too?” Runt asked.

Radie looked down and chuckled. “No, I just borrowed from something I read years ago.”

“It’s one of the early Rebel messages calling people to arms, right?” Kell asked. “Anonymous, of course, but it had a definite senatorial tone. Probably Bail Organa’s, despite the disarmament.”

Radie nodded, shrugging as she sat back down.

“Funny you mention senators from then, Kell - there is some good news that I was about to get to. You may like it in particular, Radie. Our forces at Halm were reinforced by former Senator Bel Iblis of Corellia, who happens to have his own small force of Katana dreadnaughts,” Atril said.

“What?” Radie yelped in surprise. “Can you backtrack this story for us - where he’d come from?”

Atril sighed and nodded, glancing back at her datapad before she began.

“As usual, this is one of those things you shouldn’t share outside the room - the political effects are still being worked out. Generals Solo and Calrissian were looking for the fleet with support from a smuggler group, but one of the councilors - kriff it, you know who I mean - slow-walked the effort. He interfered further by trying to have Solo, Skywalker, and the Rogues arrested or abandoned by other New Republic forces there but they refused to do it. The Imps showed up, but more of the smugglers and Bel Iblis’ group came in at a pivotal moment to help out.”

“Kriffing Fey’lya-” Radie snarled before veering to an obscene but impressive mix of Corellian, Rylothean, and Rodian curses so it was mildly less insubordinate than continuing in Basic. 

“How many of the dreadnaughts did the Imps get?” she asked further after taking a deep breath. “You said earlier it was most, not all of them. Were all 194 remaining ones still there at Halm?”

“They got 178; we had 16 but lost one in battle, taking out an ISD. The Imps put troops aboard Katana and were fought off. That’s how we know about the clones.”

“Is there any word on what this Bel Iblis will do next?” Dorset asked, guessing that would be at the front of Radie’s mind too. “What happened with him in the past anyway?”

“Hopefully he’ll join back in with the New Republic fleet - he used to be a top Rebel Alliance commander, but there was some falling out between him and Mon Mothma before my time and the friction remains. It’s still being worked out - you know how the politics goes there. We’re en route to Coruscant; hopefully they’ll reach some resolution before we arrive. Admiral Ackbar hasn’t been released from house arrest, but Fey’lya’s political capital is falling fast after this.”

***

“Could I have a word, back in our quarters?” Radie asked Dorset once the meeting was over.

She was unusually hesitant, and Dorset nodded in confusion. Once they got there, Radie sat on her bed and took a long breath. Then she poured a glass of Whyren’s and downed it in one go, after pulling on her favorite red vest and the armbands of her old Underground group over her sleeveless shirt. Dorset realized now what the Nern-Qek symbols stood for - No Quarter. That they would have never surrendered, nor accepted it from the ISB and its local collaborators.

Dorset felt queasy at the thought, but a bit amused at the level of planetary pride Bel Iblis’ fleet had apparently inspired in Radie. At least until Radie began to share what was weighing on her.

“This is going to take a bit to explain, so just bear with me. It might be revealed soon, and that could be the end of my flying career. More likely I’ll be seen as an outcast among most of the fleet. The least I can hope for is to know you heard it from me personally. No matter the result.”

Dorset’s eyes widened, and she glanced over to make sure their door was closed. “Okay,” she said - not remotely confident she wanted to see where this was going.

“You remember how I told you my parents were smugglers? That was their cover identity; they were field operatives for Bel Iblis’ outfit,” Radie said before looking Dorset in the eye and taking another deep breath. “And Dors… I’ve been one of his agents too, for the last seven years.”

What the kriff?! Dorset blinked in confusion. “But you’ve been flying with us for the past three…”

“Yes, and my true loyalty was to Bel Iblis. I was ordered to enlist as part of our efforts to keep an eye on whether Mon Mothma intended to declare herself Empress upon seizing Coruscant. Let me go back to the beginning. My parents met during the Clone Wars, as dad - he’s actually from Kuat - had been detailed to the Corellian fleet and mom was one of Bel Iblis’ bodyguards. When the Empire took over, they joined his secret resistance and helped lead hit-and-fade missions by posing as smugglers like I said. We were part of the loosely-organized Alliance at that time. 

“Around 11 years ago, those ISB bastards tried to assassinate Bel Iblis while he was a senator. Instead the bomb killed his wife and kids, Zahr and Madolyn. I’d grown up with them both. Since the Imps were starting to target families, mom worked with another Corellian Rebel commander she’d tutored - Bria Tharen - to help train me for ground combat. Dad gave lessons in flying too, though I had to pretend to be an inexperienced rookie once I came to Folor Base.”

“Sniper training, I assume… okay, that makes sense. I’d been wondering how you were so good at it,” Dorset told her ruefully. “And why you didn’t want the Wraiths to start asking questions.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Radie answered as she looked chagrined herself before continuing.

“You remind me a bit of the ground combat instructor - Bria’s dad was okay, but her mother had the overbearing nature of both your parents. Bria finally found a purpose in the resistance, and was committed to it with every fiber of her being. I’ve tried to honor her since then,” Radie said earnestly. “She taught me that when your cause is righteous, it doesn’t matter if your individual acts seem wrong. We fought to beat the Imps, not be remembered as heroes for how we did it. Bria died with her unit at Toprawa - the stars hold them now and we carry the struggle forward.”

Dorset tried to stay impassive and avoid another morality debate with her friend, who’d always been overzealous about combat. Where do you draw the line to divide you from Imps, though?

“Anyway, when Bel Iblis got the first dreadnaughts it changed everything,” Radie went on as her face shifted into a wistful and sad expression. “We thought they were all ours for the taking, and that with them we could liberate Corellia. So he sent mom and I back there under a false identity to make contact with the local resistance groups and prepare them. Since I was 15, I could help as a runner and not be noticed while mom hid out in Coronet City and my uncle’s forestry farm.” 

“So the story of your mother’s death…” Dorset’s voice trailed off awkwardly rather than continue.

“What I told you before was true enough - it was an Imperial raid, but directed by the ISB. They all paid for it after I joined up with the underground. That lasted a year, and then Bel Iblis’ plan to take Corellia wouldn’t work so I slipped back off-world. By then I was 16 and old enough to keep fighting right away. So I got put into the Advance Field Operations Section - a deliberately bland name, I know. We helped destroy a major base at Tangrene and carried out quick hit-and-fades all over the Empire. I even used an R-41 Starchaser sometimes,” Radie said with a sly smile. “I’m a Sergeant Third Class in Bel Iblis’ forces - he didn’t require you to be an officer to fly.”

“AFOS was kind of like Cracken’s Shadow Ops division - our informal name was the ‘assassins for our side,’” Radie continued as her smile faded. “After Endor, we tried to get the warlords to fight each other by staging attacks that looked like the work of a different faction. Cracken’s ops people were doing the same thing. But once the New Republic took Coruscant, Bel Iblis became most concerned with the possibility Mon Mothma would become the latest dictator. That’s why I enlisted in the New Republic and swore an oath I was prepared to break if necessary.”

Radie’s final words were a stark reminder of just how serious this revelation had become.

“Wait- what happens if you’re caught, then?” Dorset whispered. “If you’ve been a spy…”

“Bel Iblis was never an enemy of the Rebellion so I wouldn’t be killed for treason. But providing classified material to him could bring a life sentence, which would be even worse for me. Don’t worry, though; now they can’t afford to push him away again so nothing like that would happen to me. I just don’t expect to get much of a warm welcome anywhere in the fleet again after this. It’s okay, really. I’ve tried to stay ready for that since I signed up.”

Radie finished her refilled glass in another gulp and set it down, then raised her chin defiantly.

“I know what I did, and I’d do it again. It was for Corellia, for dad, and for the cause. I just wish you hadn’t gotten mixed up in it by association, Dors. I’ve done a lot of things that I knew were wrong on their own because I can live with them. But I can’t be the reason you lose your ability to fly. If this comes out some other way, they’ll think you were my accomplice. So I want you to go tell Commander Mayn I just brought this up and report everything. That way you’ll be kept in the clear,” Radie told Dorset as a tear slid from her eye. “If it means anything, I’m sorry I put you in this position. Even if I still get to fly outside of Bel Iblis’ group, I’ll understand if you want a new wingmate. You’ve all been like a second family, gave me a new sense of purpose - and I repaid it by spying on you. By being ready to go to war against you all if necessary. I’m so sorry, Dors.”

Then Radie climbed up and unhooked the blaster from her belt, setting it on the bed behind her.

Dorset had a decision to make - but first, she poured her own glass of Whyren’s and sipped at it.

She’s been hiding this for years, since the day we met. Our conversations about the Provisional Council were probably fodder for some field report. And who’s going to believe I didn’t know? I brought her along to the E-Wing project; we took part in the Kuat shipyards attack together. It’s true: if they do figure this out, I’ll be next in line - unless I turn her in myself, right here and now.

“What the kriff am I thinking?” Dorset muttered, throwing back her glass. “Radie, we’re the last trainees left from Blue Squadron. I’d wager you’ve saved my tail three times, not counting all the help after Selaggis. But this business… so you were a secret liaison officer from a group just as committed to fighting the Empire as we were, if not more. That doesn’t turn you into Gara kriffing Petothel. I guess what I’m saying is this - if you have to transfer over to Bel Iblis’ forces or be ostracized, can you get me a spot too? You’ll need a wingmate there, after all. I can live without flying for the New Republic as long as someone gives me a ship, and I need my friends more.”

Radie blinked twice in mild surprise, then threw her arms around Dorset and squeezed her tight. 

***

“Other than your family connections, how much actual evidence would there be against you?” Dorset asked, once they’d both sat down side by side on Radie’s bed after the hug.

Radie glanced at her archly. “It’s bad enough that you know without telling anyone. I’m not going to ask for aid after the fact.”

“You didn’t ask, I’m just offering it anyway. C’mon, Radie - you’re about the oldest friend I have left in Starfighter Command. So, what evidence is there?”

“Fine,” Radie huffed - even though Dorset could tell it was an act. “The main thing I did was look up information available to the pilots’ classification level and send it to Bel Iblis’ advisor Irenez. If NRI ran a thorough trace on everything I searched for, that would probably be a strong enough pattern. It started with the Rogues’ personnel files when I was a cadet - they’d just resigned, and we wanted to see whether Commander Antilles could be persuaded to join Bel Iblis’ group.”

“I passed along what I could find about the Wraiths - the general needed to see how he could improve the Field Ops Section based on them. There were updates when the New Republic had to relieve all Twi’leks from duty, of course. After that, it was files on the Hapans and briefing material about Imperial targets the general was interested in, as well as their ship movements near his base. Oh, and anything that could’ve led him to the full Katana fleet. But I left out all the information about the E-Wing project - I wouldn’t betray your trust like that.”

“How’d you transmit all that through hyperspace when we kept moving from system to system?”

Radie looked guiltily toward her large datapad, and Dorset smiled slightly as it dawned on her.

“It’s been three years - am I the first one you’ve told about this?” Dorset asked curiously.

Radie looked angry for a moment, then shook her head sadly. “I told Ro before we got together. She wouldn’t have left Starfighter Command over it, but kept what I was doing confidential. It’s the most I could’ve asked for. Ro deserved better from the Provisional Council… and from me.” 

“The only others who knew about me specifically were Bel Iblis, Irenez, and my dad. Everyone else just heard the codename Cactus, so if NRI had an informant in the ranks I’m still insulated.”

Dorset snorted at the name, poking into Radie’s bare shoulder. “Why cactus? Because you were already all cool and prickly then?”

Radie glanced over in bemusement. “Something like that. I was prepared to have to explain the connection to my parents during enlistment, but it didn’t even come up. Guess I overestimated Cracken’s vetting - then again, how many times has an enemy agent gotten into Starfighter Command alone? Petothel, Dlarit, that woman from before our time who Skywalker shot down under an apparent Force mistake? NRI’s not so good at the counter-intelligence stuff.”  

Dorset nodded sadly, then shot Radie a stern look. “Don’t go counting yourself as one of them.”

“I don’t, truly - it just got draining to have to keep up the deception with you all for so long.” She was standing again and began walking around - more to stretch than her usual worried pacing.

“Actually - there’s a chance General Cracken already knows, but he seemed willing to leave me in place if so. Back when we had those holo-meetings about Ackbar and Fey’lya, he might have been using me as a backchannel to pass reassurances on to Bel Iblis. I’m still not sure about it.”

Radie sat back down and pulled out her old holo-projector, the one she’d shown Dorset back on Coruscant two years ago, and whispered “Cactus” close to it. The device beeped and unlocked, then showed an image of Radie at 17, wearing the more ground combat-suitable TX-2 flightsuit. It was mainly white, with flecks of pale blue, gray, and brown, while the helmet had netting with interwoven cloth that resembled snow. Radie held it under her left arm in the holo, with a CDEF carbine slung over her right shoulder. Her vest included power packs, grenades, a med kit, and a cut-down DL-44 blaster pistol clipped to the front.

Radie’s hair was trimmed as short as Dorset’s was now, and she noted that the flightsuit came with a hood that could cover everything but eyes, nose, and mouth if necessary for camouflage. A pouch on her hip carried a protective mask to shield her entire face from chemical attack too.

“You flew ready to fight on the ground like that?” Dorset asked as she looked over the holo.

“Usually - our snubfighters all had room for the combat vests. We’d rotate between types as the mission required, or use the family YT-2000. Now that’s a beauty - it can carry an entire infantry platoon. My parents stole it from an ISB ground lot soon after the Empire was created. The Imps were using it as bait for pirates, so it packs hidden quad-mounted light turbolasers on top, ion torpedo tubes in the nacelles, anti-material blasters underneath - and full fire control within the cockpit. Plus extra power generators for the shields and a backup hyperdrive.”

“By the time I got back to Bel Iblis’ fleet, my father had moved up from leading small raids to commanding an entire ship - a heavily retrofitted Marauder-class corvette, Banshee. It’s got all the CEC upgrades, of course: fresh engines, expanded hangars, additional firepower. I’d easily bet on Banshee being better than even Ession Strike,” Radie added proudly.

She tapped a button on the holoprojector, shifting it to display the capital ship in question. It had two Novaldex ion engines on the airfoils - Dorset recognized them from the old C-ROC Gozanti design - and a third above the center. The bow was more angular, almost resembling a CR90’s, and Radie pointed to the deeper hangars as well as 10 turbolasers, four diamond-boron missile launchers, six ion cannons, and a trio of tractor beam projectors on the top and bottom.

“We weren’t able to get snubfighters as readily as the New Republic,” Radie continued as she manipulated the projector to display a side-by-side view of the top and bottom hangar floors. The bottom one contained six modern Z-95 Headhunters and six older V-Wings, along with the YT-2000, while the top held the same number of BTL-B Y-Wings and R-41 Starchasers. There were also a trio of Skipray Blastboats and the HWK-290 for additional heavy assault support.

“If you’re telling me you flew one of those old Y-Wings, that would be the biggest surprise yet,” Dorset said with a smile.

Radie burst out in a peal of nervous laughter, then frowned. “Oh, I forgot. Felian was my mom’s last name and I took it when enlisting to divert any suspicion at enlistment. My dad’s is Hirakyl. Either one is fine between us, I guess, aside from the whole secrecy aspect with everyone else.”

Chapter Text

For Corellia:  The Making of Radie Felian

Prologue
Rhen Var - 0 ABY

General Garm Bel Iblis resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Hiram Drayson kept haranguing him over the recent conduct of Commander Tharen. The man does have a point - I’m willing to look the other way when Bria avoids taking any prisoners from the slavers she raids. 

But double-crossing a band of smugglers she recruited at Ylesia? While that helps us now, we’ll be paying the price for years to come should word get around the fringe. If only Terrik weren’t locked up on Kessel; he could smooth that over for us. 

“Enough, Hiram,” Bel Iblis interrupted finally, narrowing his eyes at the holofeed from Yavin IV. “I’m still a founding member of the Alliance. If you want to expel one of my people like we did Gerrera, Mon Mothma will need to make the case for it personally. Where is she, anyway?”

“She has more pressing matters to attend to regarding Scarif,” Drayson replied vaguely.

“What about it?” Bel Iblis demanded, his anger rising. “You don’t just answer to her, but to Bail and myself as well. Tell me what’s going on.”

Drayson glanced away for a moment, then nodded to someone offscreen. “There’s no hiding it now - a Rebel team left against orders and launched an assault on the data vaults there. They hold vital information on the Imperial project we’ve heard rumors about. The fleet has deployed to support them, by Admiral Raddus’ order. It was too risky to discuss over holo beforehand.”

Bel Iblis scowled, but knew Drayson had been right not to send a message beforehand. Even if it also helped him centralize decision-making around Mon Mothma. 

“We’ll send what forces we can - Rhen Var is closer.” He ended the transmission abruptly, then summoned Tharen. Try to cut me out of the loop? You’ll have to put up with her now.

***

Radie could tell that Bria Tharen was still troubled by her latest mission. She hadn’t been very focused during their sim run, an attack on mercenary forces while flying the R-41 Starchaser. 

Tharen, a 28-year-old veteran, offered a sheepish smile to her 14-year-old trainee as they got out of their pods. She should’ve aced the drill, even though she was a soldier first and a pilot second, but lack of sleep had made Bria careless. Two of the Hutt fighters got on her tail, and an attempt to evade them pulled her too far into Ylesia’s nasty wind shear. Her R-41 was tossed around and crashed into a building below, killing her and ending the exercise.

“I could’ve completed the op for you,” Radie said with brash confidence, and Bria smiled again. The younger Corellian idolized her; it made Bria feel better about herself even as she worried over the influence she was leaving. Hopefully Radie never has to make the choices I have. That’s the reason we fight - so they can have a future free of the Empire and other oppressors. No matter the price I pay to ensure it, or even whether I survive.

“Is this about what happened at Ylesia? I heard dad talking to Sena,” Radie asked curiously.

Bria frowned, then nodded. “I had to do something that really hurt a person I care about, but it was for the good of the Rebellion - and all the galaxy. I just wish he could see that someday.”

Radie reached out and gave Bria a hug.

“Well, when I’m older I want to be as strong as you were,” she said in quiet reassurance.

Bria paled slightly at that, and tried to think of how she could correct Radie without scolding her; how to explain that she should aspire to be better than Bria had been. Before she could find the words, General Bel Iblis interrupted her over the comlink.

Radie couldn’t hear what Bria was being told, but she did see her reaction - how her face looked grim but committed. They’re sending her out on another mission to pay the Imps back for killing Zahr and Madolyn. One day I’ll be old enough to join them, despite what dad keeps telling me.

“I’ll do it,” Bria said - she was trying to be quiet, but Radie could still hear her. “Tell the squadron it’s volunteers only, and anyone who doesn’t want to go won’t be judged for it.”

Then Bria turned to face Radie and forced a smile. 

“Hey, I have to go away for a while. Could you hold onto this for me and tell your parents I said goodbye?” Bria asked, unslinging her Se-14c pistol and checking that the safety was engaged.

Radie took it gingerly and then slung it over her own shoulder, nodding gravely.

Bria hugged her tight, and Radie felt a few tears drip onto her shoulder. Then she ran off to the Emancipator, bound for Scarif. All of Red Hand Squadron went with her, but none came back.

***

Radie stood alongside her parents two weeks later, listening as General Bel Iblis shared stories of the heroes lost at Scarif and then Toprawa, where Bria had led Emancipator on a decoy run to draw Imperial ships away from Tantive IV and its precious Death Star plans. Her teams fought to the bitter end, until it was clear no rescue could be made. Then they chose death rather than surrender, to prevent Imperial Intelligence from torturing them into giving up vital secrets.

And Cassian Andor, another Rebel captain who excelled at the wetwork assignments, had been lost on Scarif. His team secured the plans and transmitted them, even as they were also cut off.

Bel Iblis recounted how Andor, known by the codename “Aach,” saved his life when his wife and children were killed by the Empire at Anchoron.

“If he hadn’t stopped me, I may have ran back inside the building - if only to hold Arrianya, Zahr, and Madolyn one last time,” Garm said tearfully. “It’s a bitter irony that we stand here now, with no bodies of our honored dead to bury. But we remember their lives, and their sacrifice.”

“Bria Tharen was uncompromising throughout her service, and inspired that same dedication in those she led. There was no cost too high, no cause more valuable to her. We remember.”

Radie nodded solemnly, hoping she could find that same sense of iron resolve if called upon.

Chapter 1
Felian’s Grove - 1 ABY

Radie had just come back from climbing up one of the nearby rock cliffs when their proximity sensor began flashing gold lights across the room. Suddenly the house was a flurry of action, with her mother and uncle racing to hide their stockpiled weapons as best as they could.

“It’s two green-striped Lambdas - they’ll be setting down in 45 seconds!” Radie yelled as she watched on their security monitors, before turning them off and hiding them behind a panel.

“Maybe it’s only CorSec and you can fend them off with a bribe,” Zielly said hopefully as she took Radie’s hand and pulled her away. At least she’s already dressed and ready, Zielly thought.

“I’ll try it,” Valin said as he pulled out a stack of credits saved for such occasions and then two pre-filled rucksacks. “I don’t want to take the chance they’re here for you, though. Go hide.”

Zielly nodded - she’d been thinking that as well, and kept her MK rifle at the ready along with a CDEF carbine that was easier for Radie to wield at 15 years old. They ran out through the back, crouching low, but only made it 20 meters.

Four ISB agents had flanked around the home and were waiting in the grove of trees with E-11 rifles. Their fire came first but was erratic, and the mother and daughter scrambled down behind a pile of cut logs. Already they could hear Valin shooting at the main element of stormtroopers and CorSec agents outside and facing return fire - this was no shakedown visit.

Zielly peeked around the side, then pushed her MK rifle on top of the logs and shot blindly in burst fire to keep the ISB men from getting closer. At least one had been hit, she could tell. Radie crawled out at ground level to fire better aimed shots that finished him off and caught another one across the knees. A few seconds later, and she’d put a pair through his gray hat.

“Surrender, and your lives will be spared!” the remaining ISB agent yelled at them anyway.

“Kriff yourself! We’re Corellians!” Radie screamed back, and Zielly felt a burning pride as she took advantage of the momentary lull to pull out a smoke canister from her rucksack. 

“Do you remember the fire and maneuver tactics Bria taught you?” Zielly asked Radie, pointing toward the steep hill behind them. “That’s our rallying point once I set up a screen.”

Zielly felt a surge of fear as she remembered the terrible day when they’d learned of the losses at Scarif and Toprawa, and the rumors of a Death Star. It had shaken the general, still reeling from the Empire’s murder of his wife and children, and made him more protective of his people. That in turn led to the fight with Mon Mothma, and their split into an independent fighting force.

“It’s gonna be okay, mom. You’ve got me with you,” Radie said in encouragement she didn’t feel.

Zielly smiled, and patted her daughter’s cheek, and didn’t tell her that’s what made her so afraid. Then she rose into a crouch and tossed the smoke canister up the hill, waiting for it to activate.

“I’ll go first, you give me covering fire okay?” Zielly waited for Radie’s nod, then counted down from three and ran. She could hear the distinct chatter of the carbine, amid the continued shots between her brother and the stormtroopers at the house, and then she’d gotten into the smoke.

“Radie - go now!” she yelled, an adjustment to her MK rifle’s scope allowing her to see through the haze. She fired a few shots at random, then - as stormtroopers started to join the ISB officer - shot the one in the lead with a blaster bolt through the neck. He crumpled to the ground, and Zielly put another two blasts into his helmet. Radie was running past her now, scrambling up the hill until she’d reached the ridge and could turn around to put down more fire of her own.

Slinging her rifle, Zielly climbed up the uneven, snow-covered terrain while Radie was blasting away on either side of her. The firing at the house had stopped, and Zielly tried not to focus on what that meant for her brother. Radie has to be my priority now - I’m sorry, Valin. She reached up and grabbed hold of a rock, starting to use it to drag herself into the safety of the ridgeline.

The blast from a DLT-20A sniper shot - Zielly knew the sound by heart, having used them plenty of times herself - filled their little valley and echoed off the mountains. Radie screamed, staring at her with panic-stricken eyes, then swung around and began firing wildly with her carbine at the fourth ISB agent who must have gotten on their right flank.

The pain in her leg was excruciating; Zielly glanced down and saw her knee was shattered, with the lower bone that should have been connected to it sticking out to one side instead. She rolled over the hilltop, even though it hurt twice as bad, and passed her MK rifle to Radie.

“Take your time and get him, like we practiced,” she wheezed before grabbing a stick that could work as a splint and wrapping her belt tight around it. Her daughter was brushing the hair back out of her eyes and holding her breath, one cheek pressed to the stock as she focused in.

The rifle jerked back with a low report - Zielly had put the dampening tube on before they fled - and then Radie shifted position to mow down the stormtrooper squad trying to get up the hill.

Zielly picked up the discarded carbine and joined in, picking off a trooper at the rear who held a flamethrower. The house and nearby trees were already burning, and she hoped they had either killed Valin outright or taken him prisoner. There’d be no time to find out, she knew that much. At least he’d taken out the corrupt squad of CorSec officers with him.

“Mom, what are we gonna do?” Radie asked once the immediate threat had been handled. Two more Imperial dropships were already visible on the horizon, the sound of their engines growing. 

The pain - both physical and mental - was indescribable, but Zielly smiled at her daughter and cupped her face. “Whatever happens next, always remember this: I’m proud of you, Radie. You can be a soldier and pilot, but don’t lose sight of who you are when you’re not fighting. One day the Empire will fall and your war will be over. Now go! Find dad, they’ll likely take me prisoner.”

Radie brushed at her eyes, then accepted Zielly’s remaining power packs. Deep down, they both knew there would be no rescue mission - but neither one of them could bear to say it.

Then Radie slung the MK rifle on her back and climbed further up the mountain, while Zielly kept shooting until her carbine was spent. By that time Radie was hiding under a fallen tree along the sloped ridgeline, watching tearfully as stormtroopers hauled her mother all the way down the hill and left her slumped against the tree logs. Zielly’s blood stained the snow as she clutched her stomach; she’d been hit a second time while covering her daughter’s retreat.

Radie cursed silently, covering her mouth and nose to suppress a wrenching sob, and wished the stormtroopers would leave. But of course they were hiding behind a hill in the expectation that she would run down for a rescue. Radie wanted to shoot them, but knew that would keep the group from leaving. And her mother was shaking her head from side to side. Stay away.

So Radie held her fire and kept her crying quiet for the next two hours, until her mother finally dropped into the snow and twitched slightly. Zielly’s skin was pale, her eyes cold and lifeless.

Radie slid backwards, then broke the rifle down to hide it in her backpack. She took out Bria’s old Se-14c, slung it over her shoulder, and marched away from her childhood forever.

Chapter 2
Corellia - 1 ABY

It took the rest of the day before Radie finished hiking through the mountain pass and crossed back down to the countryside. Luckily the third farm she found had a family willing to take her in and connect her with the local Underground cell. They were comprised mostly of farmers who had a handful of older model blaster rifles and slugthrowers.    

The weapons she carried - the battle-worn Se-14c, her MK rifle, four grenades, and a holdout DL-25 blaster pistol - were a rapid improvement to the group’ arsenal. Radie even had more training than most of them, thanks to Bria and her parents. Mom… 

Damn it, she cursed mentally while wiping tears from her eyes. There I go again. It’ll be hard enough to get this group to take me seriously as a fighter given my age.

The leader - Teu Risic, a man in his late fifties, Radie guessed - offered her a thin rag to help. At least he’d been a veteran of the Corellian militia during the Clone Wars, giving him a solid grasp of tactics and the ability to vouch for her once she explained her parents’ role serving Bel Iblis.

They didn’t use real names much, particularly for transmissions with other groups that could be intercepted. Radie wondered if that was how the Imperials had tracked her mom down to Uncle Valin’s farm. But they’d kept their distance from those underground units to cover their tracks.

Instead, her mom had worked with the better trained and more effective fighters in Coronet City. If the transmissions had been intercepted, they’d all be in danger - but one of the farmers had a contact in the city who reported there had been no increase in raids within Coronet. No, the leak must have been within Bel Iblis’ larger organization spread around the galaxy.

“I need a secure hypercomm system,” Radie said quietly. “There’s a mole that betrayed us, got my mom and my uncle killed. I have to warn command and see about new orders.”

“We don’t have one, but the next Imperial convoy should. An MK rifle like this would be enough to punch through their speeders’ engines; I’ll put a team of the best people we’ve got on it.”

Radie nodded her thanks, glad the man hadn’t objected to a mission request from a 15-year-old. Her mother had been on Corellia as Bel Iblis’ representative; now she would have to fill the role no matter how absurd that seemed.

***

Sliding back down the hill, Radie flicked the safety catch off her Se-14c carbine and waited. She had been peeking out to alert the others with a signal mirror earlier, but now that the convoy was nearly upon her position she couldn’t risk being spotted. The rest of the group was at the top of the cliff above her and the path the convoy would use, waiting for it to enter the firing zone. 

There were two Scout Troopers in the front on Aratech speeder bikes, a Chariot Light Assault Vehicle behind, and an open-roof transport hauler with more troops and supplies in the back. They had strung up a monofilament cord at neck height for the scout troopers, and as soon as they ran into it blaster fire began piercing the Chariot’s repulsorlift engines. The troops hurried out from both vehicles and took a defensive formation behind the Chariot LAV, firing uphill. 

Radie smiled to herself as she watched - the stormtroopers hadn’t set anyone as rear security and it would be a fatal mistake. She armed a pair of grenades, then counted to seven before throwing them toward each group of Imps and burying herself against the dirt. 

The blasts sent torn-up pieces of armor and flesh flying overhead; Radie blew a whistle and ran back up the hill as soon as it was clear. She swept her blaster fire across what remained of the first group as the other three Underground fighters who’d been waiting with her caught up, then paused for a moment behind the LAV to load in a new power pack before sprinting back out at the second group. Radie fired from the hip as she charged, and the troopers couldn’t keep up with simultaneous attacks from their flank and the high ground. Their leader, a captain by the looks of his rank, panicked and tried to run for the hills. Radie burned him down anyway.

The others had paused at that, looking at her warily, but Teu Risic nodded his acceptance.

“I’d have done it too,” he told Radie. “Two of my sons were at Gus Talon.”

Radie nodded sadly - the Imps had bombed settlements on the small moon after a riot three years ago, emboldened by Bel Iblis’ supposed death. But they’d underestimated the support shown back on the homeworld, where work stopped at all Corellian Engineering Corporation factories for two weeks in protest. Even the diktat, usually an Imp figurehead, denounced it.

Then Radie and Teu both turned back to the Chariot LAV and the transport hauler, helping carry off the supplies inside: blaster rifles and power packs, rations, medkits, and the hypercomm unit.

***

Captain Martos Hirakyl wound his way back across the bridge of the Katana-class dreadnaught Peregrine yet again. He’d been pacing in circles around the command section for hours again, unable to sit still and wait for any word from Corellia. It had been five days - and three missed comm windows - since they last heard from Zielly, Valin, or Radie back at the grove.

He could feel the eyes of half the bridge crew on him, but at least General Bel Iblis understood. The lack of knowing was its own kind of pain, not equal or greater than loss but simply different. Minutes ticked by silently, each one making Martos feel further away from his wife and daughter.

Finally the torment of solitude was broken by a shout from the relay officer. 

“We’re receiving a hypercomm call - origin is Corellia, sir!” 

Bel Iblis nodded to him encouragingly, motioning for Martos to stand at the bridge’s holocomm transmitter. Irenez joined them, while Sena stepped in to temporarily serve as the watch officer.

Martos waited as the signal filtered through, a cascade of blue light that resolved into the shape of his daughter.

Alone.

“What happened?” he choked out, dreading the possibilities. “We’ve been worried sick here.”

Radie closed her eyes and exhaled for a moment, and when they opened her gaze was distant and tired. He noticed now that she’d cut her hair shorter as well, probably by using a vibroblade given how uneven it was, and that she wore a white-and-grey camouflage cloak with the Se-14c shouldered. Radie still gripped the sling, making sure she could pull it out and up in a moment.

“There was an ISB raid on the grove. They killed mom and Uncle Valin, dad. I’m sorry,” Radie said, her voice falling into a raspy tone. “Someone in the organization tipped the Imps off.” 

“We’ll find the mole,” Bel Iblis said with determination before he temporarily froze the call. Irenez had wrapped a shaking Martos in her arms, and the general was glad Radie didn’t hear his wail.

“You still have a daughter,” Garm told Martos stiffly, remembering his own pain as he gripped the younger man’s shoulder. “She needs you now.”

Martos nodded, brushing at his eyes and then resuming the holo-feed once he was composed.

“How are you getting by? And where are you - if you can say on an unsecured line.”

Radie took a moment to think, breathing out again. “It’s not even been a week and I miss her so much, dad. I just want to go back to the way things were… but I can’t. She’s just gone - another death that we’re going to make the Imps pay for, right?”

Her brown eyes were brimming with equal parts grief and rage now, and Radie didn’t try to hide it as she looked back up at the three of them in the holo-feed and focused on Bel Iblis.

“I can still complete the mission we were sent here for, general. I’ve already made contact with an Underground element in the mountains and should be able to get set up in Coronet City in a couple weeks. We raided an armored Imp convoy, that’s where the hypercomm unit came from.”

Garm was deferring to Martos, and the man looked pale at his daughter’s suggestion.

“Radie… we sent you to Corellia because we thought it would be safer. To protect you. I know you want to fight - I remember how disappointed you were when I didn’t let you join Bria’s unit for boarding ships even though you were smaller - but this is still too dangerous. I forbid it.”

“I’ve already been in two firefights, taking the convoy and the one at the grove,” Radie told him as she tapped the twin notches carved into her leather sling to denote the battles. “I can handle this. Mom trained me, Bria trained me - let me do this to make something good out of being on Corellia, please! Peter and Dayvid get to serve, why can’t I?”

“No!” Martos snapped - her voice had been rising, and now his was almost a yell that drew half the crew’s gaze away from their panels until Garm stared them back down, telling them to keep working without actually saying a word. “You’re 15 years old. Come back here where it’s safe.”

“Safe? There? Why, so I can get blown up like Madolyn and Zahr?” 

Radie had been known for saying the wrong things amid her short temper, but this left a chilling silence across the bridge. Martos looked apologetically toward Garm - he seemed impassive, for now, but who knew how deeply the bitter comment had cut him. Irenez had gasped as well.

“I’m sorry I said that - but we know the Imps won’t spare any of us if they get the chance. If I did get killed, at least this way it would be for the good of the galaxy,” Radie told them softly.  She’s too young to be saying that, Martos thought, but it’s the truth. They’ll slaughter us all if they can.  

“Sorry I yelled,” he told her in turn. “I can’t lose you too… and we never wanted you to join us in the fighting if there was an alternative. Zielly had to convince me into training you for this at all, but I guess it kept you safe.”

Radie nodded, trying not to cry again. “It did - I wouldn’t have gotten away without that. And this means it wasn’t for nothing. I can help bring the Underground groups together and get revenge.”

Martos didn’t like the sound of that, but he’d argued with her enough in light of what she’d gone through. 

“I want revenge too - just don’t do anything you’ll regret later,” he told Radie pleadingly before the holo-feed cut out.

Radie had scoffed after her father faded from view. The Imps would try to kill her; they’d already gotten her mother, Bria, Madolyn, Zahr… The entire kriffing planet of Alderaan - two billion dead in a matter of seconds. Why would she regret killing them first? 

Even if it was wrong, Radie was what the Empire had made her become. 

Now they would pay the price for it.

Chapter 3
Corellia - Seven Months Later

Radie had been fighting as part of the group in Coronet City for almost half a year. She lived on her own in a small unit off Blue Sky Boulevard, secretly paid for by Bria’s father. That part of the city provided plenty of cover to sneak out in preparation for a raid and offered an excuse for her to carry a blaster carbine - this wasn’t the safest place, but she could handle it.

The walls and ceiling of the two-room apartment were coated with chipping black paint; Radie was mildly suspicious that was meant to cover signs of a fire previously. She was 16 now, and had marked the occasion by purchasing a star projector and a novelty machine that replicated the sound of a YT-2000’s thrumming engines. 

Radie would turn them on before she slept, or sometimes just lay in bed and listen. They were reminders of when she was six and aboard her family’s actual freighter, safe and peaceful. At times she almost heard her mother’s voice - even if the words weren’t clear any more. Radie could’ve been back in the YT-2000 with her father now, but she needed to get revenge first.

At last she had the chance. Their group had found the home of the Imperial Intelligence liaison to CorSec who’d ordered the attack and developed a plan to kill him. Radie had demanded they include her in the mission. The pattern of knocks at her door - one long, a pause, then two in rapid succession - meant it was time to move. Radie packed up the star projector and engine noisemaker, knowing she might not be able to return. Assuming she survived their mission at all.

There were never any guarantees of that - Radie had twice been scorched by blaster fire during battles with stormtroopers, once on her right thigh and across both wrists the other time. It had been long, painful hours before she could get any bacta patches too. But it was time to go back out there again, and she hid her Se-14c carbine in a canvas satchel with her other possessions while a backup CDEF blaster pistol was tucked inside her light gray jacket.

***

A quick visual sweep of the area showed no sign of plainclothes bodyguards, and so the team moved in. The Imps had again grown careless in the four years since Administrator Namada was killed. Tonight will be a reminder - you hit our homes, we can attack yours just as easily. And we’re not here to take prisoners either. Maybe this scares the Imps off Corellia for good.

One of their more stout members kicked the door in, and Radie was close behind him despite the risk of some pre-set explosive trap. They sprinted inside, blasters at the ready - nothing in the central foyer. Radie charged up the stairs, remembering how there had been a light on at the second floor level and hoping that was where the target - Keim Tollac - would be found.

The stormtrooper waiting at the landing had the drop on her, but he was expecting an adult so his blaster fire barely flew over Radie’s head. She didn’t bother with precision, squeezing down the trigger of her carbine and knocking his limp corpse aside without stopping as she ran.

Radie made it down the dangerous hallway section and was outside the room where Tollac was hopefully hiding, all without running into more stormtroopers. But that meant they were probably inside the room as well. The rest of the team was still methodically sweeping the lower level and maintaining a perimeter outside; she’d been very brash in moving to the second floor alone.

Fortunately Radie had proved a quick study when it came to explosives. She slipped into the adjoining room, making sure it was clear, and silently attached a shaped charge to the wall. Then she tossed a grenade out into the hallway, ducked in the corner, and set off the charge. 

The stormtroopers had moved back into the center of the room upon seeing the grenade, in order to provide a cordon around Tollac. But that put them in the blast radius of the shaped charge on the opposite side of the wall, and the debris flying outward hit many of their heads with brutal effect. Then Radie came jumping through the hole it left.

She gripped a vibroblade in one hand and her CDEF blaster in the other, slashing one behind the knees and then stabbing at his neck - unprotected by armor - as the man fell. The other stormtroopers were too startled to react, and she sprayed their formation with poorly-aimed fire until the power pack was depleted. They had been unprepared for her to burst into the center of their formation and attack so recklessly.

At the back of the group, Tollac was fumbling for an HL-27 blaster pistol while hiding behind his desk. But Radie switched to her Se-14c first and blasted a few shots at leg level through the desk entirely. He crumpled to the ground in a screaming, cursing heap. Radie yelled for the others to come up before collecting Tollac’s blaster pistol - a rarely made Coronet Arms model - and smacking him across the side of the head with its grip when he tried to punch her from his seated position. 

***

“If you go through with this, the Empire will go after people in Coronet City at random,” Tollac wheezed as he lay against the front of the desk - he’d been dragged out and dropped there unceremoniously while most of the team searched the mansion for valuable intelligence.

“No they won’t,” one of the few remaining fighters replied as he crouched down next to Radie. “They tried that at Gus Talon and it backfired. They can’t afford to do it here, or they would’ve after Namada was killed. She went quickly in an explosion - you won’t.”

“Okay… but they will go after you and your families in retaliation. We’ll figure out who you are.”

Radie laughed harshly, pulling off her black knit cap and the dark cloth that covered her nose and mouth. “I’ll make that easy - I’m Radie Hirakyl. My mom and my uncle were killed in a strike you ordered and my dad already fights the Empire. My family’s either dead or targeted already.”

Tollac understood the significance of her anger and the revelation of her name - they planned to kill rather than capture him. So that led him to more desperate attempts to barter for his life.

“Please - I have an emergency fund of credits. I’ll give you half, enough to get offworld, and then I’ll disappear myself under a fake name. The Empire will think you killed me and you can leave too,” Tollac said as he looked around the room, unsure who was in command of the group. 

“This is our home, you think we’d take your money just to leave?” one of the others asked with a glare as he pressed a boot against Tollac’s leg wound. “You’re the ones who’ll leave or die.”

“I can tell you who our mole was that made the raid possible. That’s who you should really be mad at,” he told Radie desperately, deciding to focus his pleas on her. “You’re just a kid. You don’t want to do this.”

Radie met his gaze coldly. “We already know who the mole was, and we’ll find her. I’ll find her, and when I do I’ll kill her. I was just a kid and that’s another thing you stole from me. So yes, I do want this. It took two hours before my mom bled out, be glad we don’t have that long.”

“If… if you kill me, Imperial Center will just send someone new. Probably the Tarkin wannabe out of Churba. It won’t change anything, except he’ll pursue you even more than I did.”

“Yeah, life’s uncertain. The one thing I do know about today is you’ll die first so that's enough for me," Radie spat, her anger rising.

“Please! I can give you inside information on what the ISB plans to do here,” Tollac begged as he could tell they were running out of time. “Raid times, where weapons are stored - all of it.”

Radie drew back for a moment - if sincere, it was an invaluable offer. He’s only saying that so we spare him; he’d draw in extra security and hunt us down the minute we leave. It’s just a ruse.

“Here’s what you can do - give your bosses at Imperial Intelligence a message from me,” Radie snarled as she leaned in close again, tired of his pleading.

“Of course - what do you want me to say?”

“Not a kriffing thing.”

Radie’s voice was low, so only they could hear it. Then she shot him twice in the gut point blank, once for each hour her mother had suffered. Keim Tollac was dead within a few minutes.

***

Radie kept fighting with the Coronet City group for six more months - despite what Tollac had said, his replacement was more concerned with micromanaging the legitimate CorSec officers than running his own squad of corrupt ones against the Underground. And so the pace of their own attacks on Imperial installations slowed, rather than upset the tenuous balance that had emerged. The most they could hope for was Bel Iblis liberating the planet, but that fell through.

So Radie left to fight elsewhere - she flew the family YT-2000 in scouting the Ubiqtorate center at Tangrene before Bel Iblis’ dreadnaughts destroyed it, and vaped three TIE Fighters during the assault itself. She hit a financial tower on Mygeeto and was in a Starchaser raid at Ord Mantell.

Then they got a lead on where to find the Imperial agent who had identified Radie’s mother and uncle - on a small moon in the Outer Rim. Her father hadn’t wanted to see her leave for another mission like that, but Radie was determined. It was too bad he lacked the skills to help, she had thought as she left. Maybe this would’ve helped him understand why I need to do it.

Radie landed the YT-2000 at the main spaceport, using an alias for her boarding pass just to be safe, and marched off on the three hour hike to the small village where they’d heard the target lived. Traveling by swoop or in a speeder would have gotten her there in a quarter of the time, but she didn’t want to risk detection. So she walked with her rifle disassembled in her backpack.

It gave her time to focus. This is the woman who killed mom and Uncle Valin, just as much as the Imps there and Tollac did. You do this and they’re avenged in full. I can stop feeling guilty that I survived, because I’ll finally know why. So I could complete the mission. Our war will go on, but maybe then I can feel at peace. I have to do this - for them.

There had been many nights where Radie struggled to sleep as she remembered how it had been nearly two years since the attack at the grove; how she had yet to fulfill the promise made when she returned there and found a scrap of burned wood that could be carved into a handle for her HL-27 blaster pistol. I’ll find the Imps who took part in this and kill them all.

Finally she was in position, and Radie draped a tan blanket over herself and the MK rifle as she waited for a clear shot. The rifle’s hollow stock had room for an extra power pack and more - in this case, a tin of smoked nerf. Radie was halfway through her supply of the Corellian snack by the time the woman emerged, carrying a basket of clothes that she hung up to dry on a line.

Radie was a bit confused why she’d do that when powered machines were so readily accessible and there was a YT-1000 freighter parked nearby the small hut she’d been living in. Perhaps the Imperial Intelligence commanders had her preparing to live undercover on some rural planet. In any case, it wasn’t pertinent and so she brushed the stray thoughts aside, adjusting her scope.

Range: 700 meters. Elevation: 90 meters up. Confirm target? Radie double-checked a holo of the target against the brown-haired woman at the center of her scope. Target confirmed. Firing.

Radie’s first shot caught the woman in the shoulder, dropping her to the ground. The second was through the heart. A man came running out; she readjusted the scope while he gathered the woman in his arms. But whoever this was, he wasn’t an approved target so she slid back.

The rifle was easily broken down and tucked away, and Radie was running before anyone had the chance to get up to the ridge she’d used. But when she stopped two klicks down the road and caught her breath, Radie found this hadn’t been as much of a conclusion as she expected.

Sure, the traitor was dead. But so were all the people she’d betrayed during her infiltration of Bel Iblis’ organization. She had escaped with a list of most of his field agents at the time and turned it over to the ISB; they lost 26 members of the Advance Field Operations Section as a result.

Radie tried not to think about that as she walked the rest of the way to her YT-2000. It’s over. I can move on. Mom, Valin, all the others - they can finally rest now. And maybe so can I.

***

Once she’d powered up her freighter, Radie found a series of messages waiting on her secure hypercomm unit - Bel Iblis and her father needed to speak with her immediately. But of course she’d already carried out the mission, so whatever this was about it was too late.

“What’s going on?” Radie asked as soon as the holo-feed started, suddenly afraid. “Was there a mix-up about the target?”

“No,” Bel Iblis answered quickly. “The information we obtained was authentic - but incomplete.”

Radie sighed in relief, knowing now that she hadn’t shot the wrong person by mistake.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘incomplete?’ Because Rasha Bex is dead. It’s over.”

Bel Iblis and her father exchanged a worried glance toward each other.

“Were you spotted?” Martos asked. “Could anyone have recognized you?”

Radie looked at him in annoyance. “Of course not. I am good at what I do, dad. Why?”

“You might as well tell her,” Bel Iblis said to Martos. “Word is going to get out anyway.”

“Radie, I’m really sorry. It turns out Bex had defected to the Rebellion and helped one of their cells on Ahkista. There was a standing capture or kill bounty for her, this was no ISB ruse.”

Kriff - I killed someone who had betrayed the Empire; who helped the Rebellion? Who was trying to atone for what she’d done and now never will?

Her breathing sped up, and suddenly a line of sweat was growing at the back of her neck. The blaster pistol in her hand was rattling slightly, and she set it down on the table as she sank into one of the chairs. The holo-feed in front of her was glimmering, and Radie blinked a tear away.

“This… it changes nothing. The mission was about what Bex had done,” Radie told them both, trying to sound like she believed it. “She betrayed us back on Stoga, she’s the reason mom was killed! The order was valid, she deserved it.” 

Didn’t she?

Chapter 4
Corvis Minor - 7 ABY

Radie Hirakyl nodded in feigned laughter, one eye over her date’s shoulder as she tracked the target around the conference hall. Deputy Moff Hoyus Cul led the undersector for Warlord Delak Krennel, one of the few holdovers from Sate Pestage’s time, and she was there to kill Cul. He wasn't being targeted simply for his position; Bel Iblis' intelligence network had confirmed his involvement in three separate massacres as a Star Destroyer commander. Now Radie would render judgement on the galaxy's behalf, even if that remained secret.

With luck the Ciutric Hegemony would assume his death was the act of another group - Zsinj’s forces, Kaine’s ISB division, or the Corporate Sector - and respond in kind, setting off a bloody skirmish between the factions.

This was the first mission she led herself as part of General Bel Iblis’ Operation Razor, ordered in the wake of Endor while the Empire fragmented. In his capacity as senator-in-exile, Bel Iblis declared a state of total war existed between the free Corellians and those loyal to the various Imperial factions. He sent teams from the Field Ops Section out to target high-ranking officials who all had a past history of atrocities. The teams infiltrated worlds their targets now controlled, since that lessened the risk of further reprisal massacres.

Radie had developed this idea in coordination with Sena Midanyl, and they presented it to Bel Iblis together. But putting it into practice was Radie’s sole responsibility - she was on her own here, with no support beyond a local contact for weapons. It reminded her of the free climbing Radie had been told not to do as a child. Before the war came to their home in the mountains.

Knock it off, Radie. This is the worst time for you to be getting sentimental. She faked another smile and nodded as Ensign Tolar Welric asked if she liked the dessert course they’d had. Just getting into the hall with the deputy moff had been complicated enough. Radie had parked her YT-2000 in long-term storage on Taanab, donned the brown-color wig she now wore, and then took a starliner to Ord Trasi. She waited two days, then booked passage over to Corvis Minor.

Once on the planet, Radie found work in a tapcafe near the Hegemony’s base under the name Giha Lavval and kept at it for three weeks until she’d met Ensign Welric and agreed to a date at the conference. Now she was standing at a carefully selected high table, rather than one of the more comfortable benches or booths. Welric probably didn’t like it - but he was too polite to complain when she had steered him in that direction.

Radie was wearing a long frilled skirt that she would normally not be caught dead in, but today it was an operational requirement. Corvis Minor was trying so desperately to replicate Coruscant high society - without the terror of Isard’s rule - and so wearing pants to a formal gathering like this would have raised too much suspicion. 

Plus it gave the perfect way to sneak in a Merr-Sonn S10 blaster carbine taped to her right leg, with two extended power packs clipped together and secured on the left side. Rounding it off was the DD6 blaster pistol hidden in her large clutch - useful, but not the level of firepower she needed to take out Cul’s stormtrooper escort. There were eight of them in two squads of four, and the constant security was part of what had attracted Radie to taking the mission on herself. 

These Moffs parade around, using their details as a symbol of stature while they try and restore the old days of galactic domination. It’s time to show them the war can come to anyone. Like we did back in Coronet City six years ago - has it really been that long? 

Radie tried to dwell on that mission, not than the later one she still had haunting dreams about. The ones in which her mom’s voice was asking what she’d become; where the happy child she raised had gone. Where Bex’s face still appeared in her scope, where the sound of her shot and the one which ripped through her mother’s leg were one and the same.

Sometimes she felt tired of fighting, of spending weeks alone, but it was all she knew now. This was the price of serving in Bel Iblis’ private war; she’d been paying it willingly for five years and would keep doing so until the fighting stopped. Someday.

The stormtrooper detail was starting to move out. Radie finished her drink quickly and stepped back from the table, holding the absurd skirt out so it didn’t press against her blaster.

“Hey, Tolar - I’m going to freshen up but won’t be long, could you get us a booth at the tapcafe? If we wait it’ll probably be filling up with the other people from here.”

The ensign nodded and headed off, and Radie offered him a sweet smile when he turned back around at the doorway to wave goodbye. If he’s lucky, he’ll hear the news and see I’m wanted by the Ciutric Patrol before they put two-and-two together and arrest him. It’s not my problem.  

Radie let the smile drop from her face as soon as he was gone. She had work to do, and fast. The stormtroopers were moving slowly - Corvis Minor wasn’t an important world at the galactic level, but it still held a lot of weight within the Hegemony and so the deputy moff wanted to get some last conversations in before he retired for the night.

She slid through the crowd, making sure the skirt didn’t catch on anything, and then ducked into the ladies’ refresher. Once Radie was safely inside the stall she pulled the skirt off, feeling much better in the gray pants beneath, and silently removed the taped blaster and power packs. Next she drew the pistol from her clutch and tucked it away in front, while taking off her gold top and opting for the white sleeveless shirt hidden below. 

The final change was a dark gray mask that had been disguised as a decorative scarf. Then she wiped down any trace of fingerprints - not really necessary, but it would help make this appear to be ISB work - and loaded the power pack in the S10 carbine, pulling the handle to charge it. 

Radie preferred the CDEF carbine for open warfare, but the S10’s wire stock and slim profile - aside from the side-slotted power pack - was unmatched for this type of behind-the-lines work.

Here we go.

As expected, the stormtroopers held a loose formation - six in lead, two behind - at the center of the hall when she burst out of the refresher. They were only 20 meters away, so she dropped to one knee and peppered them with controlled bursts, feeling the barrel heating against her glove.

The blaster fire caught the stormtroopers at the midsection, where their armor was weaker, and three of them went down without getting a shot off. The others began to slowly retreat, opening up with shots meant to contain her while the two at the rear hurried Cul to safety, waving for the few remaining conference attendees to move out of their way. Radie had already stopped shooting and crouched down behind a large vase whose plant was now burning, grinning as blaster fire scorched the walls above her.

When Radie had first arrived, she’d excused herself while Welric was speaking with some of his fellow officers and gone for a stroll on the unused upper floor. Her clutch hadn’t held much of the explosive compound along with everything else, but it was enough to bring down five meters of the ceiling. She pressed the detonator and waited for the rumbling boom - the chunks of debris came down just in front of the stormtroopers leading Cul away and distracted their rear guard.

Pressing her advantage, Radie sprinted out from behind the vase and closed the distance, firing as she ran in. Her shots were less controlled this time, since the hall was clear of bystanders, and she swept fire across the remaining stormtroopers with ease before dropping Hoyus Cul with three bolts that caught him in the left hip, chest, and right shoulder.

The deputy moff was crawling feebly when she got to him and kicked him over. Radie could tell he wouldn’t last long from the chest wound alone; no amount of bacta could treat that. Good. It makes this part easier, she told herself as she leaned down over him with a cold smile.

“You’ll make sure Krennel knows that Warlord Zsinj demands fealty,” Radie hissed quietly to the dying man. “One way or another.” 

Cul would live just long enough to get the message out - she could see some of the conference attendees cowering in anterooms, too afraid to rush her unarmed. Word would get to Krennel, and he’d have to press Zsinj over the killing. The warlord would deny involvement, of course. Then the Hegemony would either refuse to accept that and attack his territories, or recognize the connection was too obvious and suspect Kaine of orchestrating it to frame Zsinj instead.

Regardless of which faction Ciutric blamed, it would weaken the Imperials further and leave Bel Iblis’ involvement hidden from both them and the New Republic’s burgeoning Intelligence group.

The brown-hair disguise helped sell that, but they’d had a plan in case Radie lost it in a struggle. There were rumors a red-haired woman not much older than her had killed Imperial officials who were secretly disloyal to the Emperor years ago, so it could have been seen as her work.

Radie grinned in satisfaction as she ran into the night, the sound of patrol airspeeders like music to her ears. She’d be gone long before they arrived, while her mission still had more potential to start full-blown war between the Hegemony and the Pentastar Alignment. Not bad for a solo op.

She tossed the wig and her blasters away, pulled on a new set of clothes from the speeder she had parked nearby that morning, and reached the spaceport within 20 minutes.

***

Radie was through the heightened security and on a flight to Varvrona within an hour - she had more work to do. There she made contact with Lhira, a Twi’lek member of Bel Iblis’ resistance who gave the tools she needed: an E-11 blaster that could be traced back to the Hegemony, a grenade, and a civilian model Aratech speeder bike. Radie bought a cloak and made a hidden sling for the carbine on her own, and there were plenty of bags she could keep the grenade in.

With that out of the way, it was easy enough to find a cafe where the rich and famous of the Pentastar Alignment ate lunch. Radie adjusted the shiny silver container for napkins slightly, using the mirrored surface to watch the table seven meters back where Elta Besk, heiress to Dynamic Automata, was sitting down with an ISB colonel, a naval captain, and two Pentastar Patrol lieutenants. Their escorts were waiting in a speeder outside the patio dining area.

The four men would be suitable targets on their own, and Besk’s company relies heavily on slave labor so she’s an option under my rules of engagement as well. This is for you, Bria.

Radie stood and walked past them, then reached into her bag and pulled the grenade pin. She counted to five and casually pitched it under the speeder, smiling when no one noticed yet. And then she tossed her cloak aside, swung her E-11 out as she turned, and hosed the table of five with automatic but controlled blaster fire. The grenade blew right as the eight bodyguards were jumping up, and Radie coldly finished off the survivors in both groups. To pin this on Krennel, I need to act the part. Hopefully they’re too busy shooting each other to compare the attacks.

Then she hopped over the decorative iron fence and raced away on the parked speeder bike. From there Radie caught a starliner back to Taanab, checked her YT-2000 for tracking devices, and punched in a course for their New Cov base.

Once she landed the freighter, Radie greeted her father first with a hug - she’d been in the field almost a month - and then followed him over to report in with Sena and Bel Iblis.

“We’ve already received word that skirmishes have begun between Krennel and Kaine’s forces,” Bel Iblis told her. “You’ve done excellent work there, and throughout your time in service. I’ve asked a lot from you, Sergeant Hirakyl.”

Radie fought to keep a proud smile from her face, or to glance at her father. Clearly the general had another challenging mission planned - but she would not fail him, whatever it was.

“Mon Mothma’s Rebel forces have captured Coruscant, and it seems the New Republic they proclaimed after Endor is poised to become the latest galactic authority. You know my fears about whether she may take up the throne of Palpatine and Isard; we need to be ready.”

Radie nodded, though if she felt uneasy with where this was going given her work in the past. "Sir, please tell me you're not suggesting a preemptive solution." Rooting out the Imps is one thing, regardless of their position. Even if they had left, like Bex had. But this…it's too far.

Bel Iblis paled at even the idea of it, though, and her father and Sena looked taken aback as well.

“Absolutely not,” the general answered, and Radie breathed a sigh of relief. “I have my concerns about Mon Mothma, but the fact remains that she’s done the galaxy a great service… thus far. We just need to be ready in case that changes. I’m asking you to join the New Republic fleet as a pilot and help be my eyes and ears. Should the worst happen, you would likely be recalled.”

“Don’t take this lightly: I’ll need you to observe the sentiments of those you serve alongside, and even ones you become friends with. There may even be a day, Force help us, when you have to fight them in combat should they refuse to join a resistance movement against Mon Mothma.”

Radie only took a moment to consider her answer. “Whatever oaths I take, I serve Corellia, your resistance, and the memory of those we’ve lost. I’ll do it, sir.”

Chapter Text

Dramatis Personae

Spitfire Flight
Commander Todra Mayn (Human female from Commenor)
Lieutenant Dorset Konnair (Human female from Coruscant)
Lieutenant Radielle “Radie” Felian (Human female from Corellia)*
Lieutenant Linna Irarch (Human female from Naboo)

Rogue Squadron
Commander Wedge Antilles, Rogue Leader (Human male from Corellia)
Captain Tycho Celchu, Rogue Two (Human male from Alderaan)
Flight Officer Lyyr Zatoq, Rogue Three (Quarren female from Mon Cala)
Lieutenant Derek “Hobbie” Klivian, Rogue Four (Human male from Ralltiir)
Lieutenant Wes Janson, Rogue Five (Human male from Taanab)
Flight Officer Gavin Darklighter, Rogue Six (Human male from Tatooine)
Lieutenant Myn Donos, Rogue Seven (Human male from Corellia)
Flight Officer Koobis “Target” Nu, Rogue Eight (Rodian male from Rodia)
Lieutenant Corran Horn, Rogue Nine (Human male from Corellia)
Lieutenant Ooryl Qrygg, Rogue Ten (Gand male from Gand)
Lieutenant Asyr Sei’lar, Rogue Eleven (Bothan female from Bothawui)
Flight Officer Inyri Forge, Rogue Twelve (Human female from Kessel)
Lieutenant Nawara Ven, Executive Officer (Twi’lek male from Ryloth)

Wraith Squadron
Captain Garik “Face” Loran (Human male from Pantolomin)
Captain Deena Shan (Human female from Etti IV)
Lieutenant Tyria Sarkin (Human female from Toprawa)
Lieutenant Kell Tainer (Human male from Sluis Van)
Lieutenant Shalla Nelprin (Human female from Ingo)
Hohass “Runt” Ekwesh (Thakwaash male from Thakwaa)
Voort “Piggy” saBinring (Gamorrean male from Gamorr)
Dia Passik (Twi’lek female from Ryloth)
Elassar Targon (Devaronian male from Devaron)
Elscol Loro (Human female from Cilpar)

New Republic Pilots
General Edor Crespin (Human male from Corulag) - Starfighter Command Chief of Staff
Captain Chea Sedgwik (Human male from Carida) - Gray Leader*
Captain Syrra Ried (Human female from Eriadu) - Rover Leader*
Captain Braylen Stramm (Human male from Naboo) - Raven Leader
Lieutenant Owen Nordan (Human male from Belderone) - Raven Five*
Flight Officer Nir Pulastra (Human male from Ord Mantell) - Raven Six*

New Republic Fleet Personnel
Admiral Gial Ackbar (Mon Calamari male from Mon Cala) - Supreme Commander
Admiral Hiram Drayson (Human male from Chandrila) - Commander of Coruscant Defenses
Admiral Firmus Nantz (Human male from Jabiim) - Commander of the First Fleet
Commander Onoma (Mon Calamari male from Mon Cala) - Captain of Mon Remonda
Commander Sair Yonka (Human male from Commenor) - Captain of Freedom
Commander Areta Bell (Human female from Corellia) - Captain of Swift Liberty
Captain Atril Tabanne (Human female from Coruscant) - Captain of Ession Strike

New Republic Leadership
Chief Councilor Mon Mothma (Human female from Chandrila)
Councilor Leia Organa Solo (Human female from Alderaan)
Councilor Borsk Fey’lya (Bothan male from Kothlis)
Councilor Sian Tew (Sullustan male from Sullust)
Chief Aide Winter Retrac (Human female from Alderaan)
Chief Aide Tav Breil’lya (Bothan male from Bothawui)
Colonel Jak Bremen (Human male from Shiffrin)

Corellian Faction
General Garm Bel Iblis (Human male from Corellia) - Commander
Sena Leikvold Midanyl (Human female from Corellia) - Chief Advisor
Irenez (Human female from Corellia) - Security Director
Martos Hirakyl (Human male from Kuat) - Captain of Banshee*
Lhira Kairn (Twi’lek female from Ryloth) - Advance Field Operations Section
Kole Roconi (Human male from Tralus) - Advance Field Operations Section*
Keir Wessler (Human male from Drall) - Pilot*
Trell Maghe (Human male from Corellia) - Pilot*

Personnel at Generis
Travia Chan (Human female from Fest) - Sector Commander-in-Chief
General Dun Kryll (Human male from Carida) - Commander, Third Outer Rim Corps
Commander Loom Carplin (Human male from Mantooine) - Chief of Staff
Commander Uri Varth (Human male from Coruscant) - Typhoon Leader
Captain Evaan Verlaine (Human female from Alderaan) - Dauntless Leader
Captain Pash Cracken (Human male from Contruum) - Ace Leader
Lieutenant Catalina Paby (Human female from Tierfon) - U-Wing Pilot*
Lieutenant Heath Jalle (Human male from Fondor) - Ace Seven*
Flight Officer Thatch Docen (Human male from Molavar) - Ace Eight*
Flight Officer Bickey Pellan (Human male from Ukio) - Dauntless Two
Sergeant Mesqi Palaso (Human male from Nevarro) - Forward Combat Communicator*
Lieutenant Judder Page (Human male from Corulag)

Others
Han Solo (Human male from Corellia)
Lando Calrissian (Human male from Socorro)
Mirax Terrik Horn (Human female from Corellia)
Talon Karrde (Human male, origin undisclosed)
Mara Jade (Human female from Coruscant)
Fenig Nabon (Human female from Corellia)
Taryn Clancy (Human female from Coruscant)
Mazzic (Myke male from Murkhana)
Shada D’ukal (Human female from Emberlene)

Imperial Remnant
Grand Admiral Thrawn (Chiss male from Csilla)
Admiral Teren Rogriss (Human male from Balmorra)
Captain Gilad Pellaeon (Human male from Corellia)
Soontir Fel (Human male from Corellia)
Joruus C’Baoth (Human male from Wayland)
Niles Ferrier (Human male from Nar Shaddaa)

Chapter Text

15

While they had all hoped this Senator General Bel Iblis would swiftly rejoin the New Republic fleet, it seemed whatever conflict he’d had with Mon Mothma was still too potent for that.

At least they both recognize this Grand Admiral Thrawn and his resurgent Imperial fleet is a threat to us all, Dorset thought. It had been a week since the disastrous battle at Halm, where the Empire came away with a much greater share of Katana dreadnaughts already being put into use. Two systems had already been captured in the days that followed.

Now her group, the Wraiths, Rogue Squadron, Ession Strike, and Mon Remonda were facing down three Imperial Star Destroyers - Agonizer, Provocateur, and Gray Wolf - and five of their blasted dreadnaughts under the twin stars of Tatooine. 

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it, Wraith Nine?” That was Lieutenant Janson, talking to the new woman in the commando starfighter unit. Dorset couldn’t remember her name after all the engagements of the past week. This was their fifth battle in as many days, a series of delaying actions as the Imps pushed up the Triellus Trade Route.

Tatooine would fall today - there was no question of that. Success would instead be measured by getting as many sector troops and New Republic civilian staff off-planet before it occurred.

“Being outnumbered? I think that’s a regular thing for both of us, Wes,” the new Wraith replied. “Don’t worry, Rogue Leader - I’ll stay in formation this time. Well, I’ll try to anyway.”

“Thanks but cut the chatter, both of you. TIEs incoming high at sixty degrees. Three squadrons: two of Interceptors, one of Bombers. We’ll merge, then I want the A-Wings to pursue the dupes. Leave the squints to us,” Antilles ordered. “Strike and Remonda will try to keep the capital ships occupied as long as they can, but conserve your torpedoes for runs against them.”

Mon Remonda’s own starfighter complement was already engaged in space above them; their role was to protect the ground installations. They needed to hold for 20 minutes until the evac was completed. It would be a very long 20 minutes.

Dorset focused in on the mass of TIEs and the squints in the lead. Oh for kriff’s sake. They all had red stripes on their wing panels - the 181st. Then laser blasts started flying between them.

One of the TIE Interceptors broke apart under sustained fire from Dorset and Radie just before they all merged, and then they’d gotten through with all four A-Wings still intact. They braked hard and nosed back over, diving after the bombers that were now plodding along toward the GR-75 transports still being loaded up on the ground. 

This is too easy, they’ve got no escort. Apparently Commander Mayn was thinking the same as she quickly rolled her A-Wing over and looked down. 

“Contact below - new squadron of TIE Interceptors at low level to avoid detection. No red marks; we’ll find a way to take them ourselves, Rogue Leader. Dorset, Radie - go after the bombers. I’ll take Linna down and try to knock a few of these squints out before they come after you two.”

***

Dorset swept her fire across the bombers before she raced through their formation; between her and Radie, three were vaped in the first pass. They braked and flitted back around in a loop to attack again from a head-to-head angle, dodging the incoming fire of the Dupes as well. Four fell under their cannons this time, but before they could perform yet another run the remaining five TIE Bombers reached the first GR-75 transport.

“No!” Dorset screamed as she watched the Dupes unleash proton bombs, turning the GR-75 to a fiery, twisted skeleton of durasteel and flash-fused glass. It would’ve been filled with as many as they could get aboard, based on stories of Hoth. Hundreds of troops and civilians - all gone. 

“There’s two of us and twelve of them, Dors. We did the best we could,” Radie told her while vaping another Dupe. “Let’s kill the rest of these bastards quick; the squints are almost on us.”

Dorset nodded, sharing Radie’s intensity for once, and the TIE Bombers fell under their cannons in short order. But then on came four TIE Interceptors, their fire driving the two A-Wings apart. 

Radie rocketed skyward, drawing her pair into a spiraling climb - with luck she would be able to sustain it longer than the squints, thanks to more powerful engines, and could dive after them when they lost upward momentum. As long as they didn’t shoot Radie down first.

Dorset chose to head for the ground, pulling up only a few meters over the sand and speeding along despite the uneven terrain ahead. She slalomed between a row of dunes that turned into glass as errant shots pierced through them, then pushed her throttle toward overdrive.

That viaduct one klick ahead - that’s where I’ll vape them, she thought after scanning the terrain while it zoomed by along her cockpit. Time to ease up a bit so they aren’t too far back.

Dorset slid easily between the bridge’s struts, but the TIE Interceptors had to climb and pass overhead. That would’ve given them an advantage - they could brake and bracket her fighter once it passed in front and below their position - but only if Dorset maintained level flight.

So of course she did something else.

Just before she’d cleared the bridge, Dorset slid her throttle down to near-zero and yanked the stick back. Her A-Wing rocketed skyward even as it lost speed, kicking up a cloud of sand that obscured her movement from view. By the time the TIEs adjusted, Dorset was suspended in mid-air right in front of them with her rotating cannons tilted up 90 degrees. Then she fired.

Dorset’s neck hurt from tilting back far enough to get a bead on both squints at once, but she grinned as she resumed standard flight and tracked down Radie’s location.

*** 

Her wingmate was returning from a point 20 klicks to the left, and Dorset performed a slow loop until Radie could catch up. Then they flew back over to the Rogues’ and Wraiths’ ongoing battle with the 181st. The real unit, Dorset thought, not another group of pretenders like Zsinj’s set.

They certainly had the skill to prove it - the X-Wings’ shields and their pilots’ experience spared most of them from serious harm, but Dorset cursed as she saw the black-stripe X-Wing crumple under sustained fire from a TIE Interceptor right on its six. At least a jet of flame freed the pilot.

“Deena’s extravehicular!” Linna was yelling over the comm net even as her A-Wing raced in and vaped the squint with help from two other Wraiths.

“Rogue Leader to Strike: Request immediate retrieval of a downed pilot, Wraith Ten. Looks like her position will be eleven klicks southeast of you, probably in three minutes.”

“Wedge, Face - I’m sorry,” Atril replied. “The GR-75s are outbound, we have to go now. I can’t send a U-Wing and stick around for it to come back. If you stay, you’ll be alone against three ISDs and the dreadnaughts. That’s a negative on the rescue. We’ll try to figure something out.”

The comm channel burst into protests and disapproval, but Antilles silenced them.

“It’s a terrible order but she’s right. We need to cut our losses and regroup. Deena’s a survivor; she has as good a chance of making it out as any of us. Probably better than most, even.”

He’s right. The Wraiths are all commando-pilots or pilot-commandos; the Rogues have done a fair share of ground action themselves. Lieutenant Janson’s a crack pistol shot and if Linna can be believed then Horn carries a lightsaber. What about us? Radie will thrive if she has to eject, but we’d have to hide and hope for the best. At least I don’t know much about fleet strategy and have no propaganda value to the Imps.

*** 

The atmosphere was grim after they landed on Ession Strike and got out of their fighters. Face went over to talk to Elscol; she brushed him away at first but then sat down in the shadow of her X-Wing. The Rogues shuttled over after they reached the rendezvous point and Captain Celchu stayed behind to join Face and Elscol while Antilles talked with Tabanne about their next moves.

That left the rest of the two X-Wing squadrons and the four A-Wing pilots to sit in a briefing room and discuss what they might have been doing if the war hadn’t dragged on. Radie had started the conversation, surprising Dorset - until she whispered that she had no idea herself and was looking for an example to steal. Hopefully it would cheer Linna up somewhat as well.

“Piggy and I could’ve started a traveling performance act,” Runt deadpanned. “The Gamorrean Genius and the Multi-Minded Miniature Thakwaash.”

Voort shook his head, looking annoyed - but from what Dorset knew of his species’ expressions, she guessed it was a feigned reaction of the sort Radie usually gave Linna’s jokes and jests.

“I’d be a stunt pilot, maybe touring the Outer Rim,” Dorset said with a grin as she looked around the room. “That’s what I dreamed of doing before news of the war reached us on Coruscant. I’m sure a lot of you did too - wanting to be the best of the best pilots is why you’re Rogues, right?”

Linna was smiling widely again as well; Dorset had achieved the objective of cheering her back up. They’d never left a pilot behind, other than failing to recover Carmiya’s remains at Selaggis. But with the way the war was going, hard decisions like the one Antilles had made could be on the horizon. Dorset couldn’t imagine leaving any of her friends to the Imps if it came down to it.

The thought made her look back over to Radie with a guilty feeling as Dorset remembered how much she’d already left behind and lost so much to the Empire. But Radie was nodding along with an easy half-smile as Lieutenant Janson asked if it was against the question’s theme of life without war to be a competition pistol shooter.

“You care about following rules now?” Lieutenant Klivian quipped. “I’ll remember that at the next sabacc game.”

Nawara Ven, the Rogues’ non-flying executive officer, said he’d go back to being a lawyer with his wife Rhysati as business manager once she’d returned to reserve status. Kell brought up the idea of running a starship maintenance company, while glancing over to see how Tyria reacted. Lieutenant Horn talked about trying to study the Force more with Skywalker.

Radie offered a bemused smirk at that while turning toward Dorset, whispering about how she would want Jedi protection too if she had Booster Terrik for an angry father-in-law.

Lyyr said that in another life, she could’ve taken a spot with the professional swimming teams on Mon Cala. She seemed happy though and had acclimated well to her status as a Rogue. 

Myn told them he’d look at trying to help other veterans - pilots and ground personnel - deal with the psychological wounds of the war when it ended. Dorset remembered the help he’d given her after Selaggis and found herself checking to see what Radie’s reaction was as well.

Radie looked interested in that thought, but really took notice when Dia Passik mentioned how she would have gone off on her own to track down the slavers who previously terrorized Ryloth.

“If you ever need a hand with that, count me in,” Radie told Dia eagerly. Stars, Dorset thought. If the Empire vanished today, she’d just move on to fighting Black Sun, the Hutts, or that group of Reptilian slavers who popped up in Wild Space. Will her anger ever burn out in time for there to be anything left of her to enjoy peace? Or does Radie just believe she needs it to keep going?

***

While General Bel Iblis loaned his intelligence contacts to Cracken’s operation - Radie boasted to Dorset the Corellians had dozens of spies embedded in the Imperial and warlord factions - he had been kept far from Coruscant by Mon Mothma and fleetwide strategy decisions. 

Instead, Bel Iblis was relegated to using his Katana dreadnaughts and smaller attack ships as a bulwark in the Outer Rim worlds. Radie was seething over that disrespect, but at least it meant she’d soon be reunited with her father - Ession Strike’s battle group was retreating back to the staging ground at Ord Pardron in preparation for further action, hopefully offensive for a change.

But Dorset worried how they’d maintain Radie’s secret in front of everyone - especially Corran and Tyria with their Force sensitivities. It seemed like an untenable situation, though she knew Radie would cover for her if the truth were discovered.

Chapter Text

16

They received two days to mentally regroup before General Bel Iblis tasked them with a new assignment. Radie snapped to attention as his holo-image appeared in front of them, making Dorset smile wanly at how the Corellian usually slouched with increasing levels of insolence.

Bel Iblis wasn’t alone - the red-haired man projected next to him was older but still recognizable from the family holo Radie had shown her. Dorset glanced over and saw Radie’s eyes widening, her hands twitching as though wanting to reach out to the holo and wrap her arms around him. Dorset reached over imperceptibly, bumping Radie’s wrist down and quietly telling her to wait.  

They were both glad for it a moment later, as General Cracken shimmered into existence over the third holo-projector in the briefing room. This was to be a joint operation, it seemed.

“Our target is the man who led Thrawn to the Katana fleet,” Cracken said as the briefing began and a Corporate Sector Authority law enforcement image of a brown-bearded man appeared. “His name is Niles Ferrier. We have information that he will be selling arms to Imperial forces at the Kemal Ring - a hovering platform hidden at upper levels of the gas giant Kemal, not to be confused with its moon Kemal Station. This means going behind Imperial lines along the Triellus Trade Route, but they don’t have ships staggered there so it should be safe.”

“The most dangerous part will be finding the platform. Kemal’s atmosphere blocks long-range sensors, so you won’t see it until you’re within a few klicks, and there’s heavy storm clouds with high-speed winds that will further complicate the approach. Dorset - do you think you can fly the assault team in with a Nu-class shuttle?” Atril asked as she took a central position in the room.

Dorset raised an eyebrow at the fellow Coruscanti, who she considered a friend - as much as was possible across rank levels. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that any pilot worth their salt will say yes to something like that, Captain. Of course I can do it, but expect a rough ride. Why not use a U-Wing, though? That would be more maneuverable and stable in the winds.”

“It has less room for troops, and they’d have to deploy out of the sides. We expect you’ll land it under fire so we want them to have full protection from the Nu’s heavy laser cannons in front.” 

I have more experience with U-Wings, but I can’t disagree with that logic. Guess I’ll have to think of this as mid-combat training, Dorset told herself. “What will I do after the troops go in? Taking part in a ground assault is more Radie’s thing than mine, but the platform’s anticipated defenses in that holo means I won’t want to loiter nearby either. And who’s the assault team?”

As she expected, the Wraiths raised their hands - but they wouldn’t fill a Nu shuttle on their own. 

“Commander Hirakyl will be arriving at your position shortly, and he has additional personnel to help with the operation. Not to mention the shuttle itself,” General Bel Iblis said. He was leaning forward now, the shoulder plate of his ceremonial baldric shimmering in the artificial projection. That will probably be one of the Field Ops teams Radie told me about - I bet she knows them.  

“We’ll give you the rest of the briefing in person once we arrive,” Hirakyl told them. “That should be 25 minutes from now. Ferrier uses a DP20 corvette, but we won’t know which hangar it’s in.”

***

The New Republic element of the assault - Wraiths and A-Wing pilots - took a shuttle of their own over to Hirakyl’s modified Marauder-class corvette Banshee, with Atril shaking Commander Hirakyl’s hand after walking down the shuttle’s ramp first. Both ship captains were professional but well aware of the tenuous nature of Bel Iblis’ current connection to the New Republic. 

“Welcome aboard,” Hirakyl told them with the briefest possible glance toward Radie. “Let’s get back to discussing our attack plan. Some things are best done in person, not over the holos.”

Tabanne nodded, plugging in her datapad and pulling up the images of the Kemal Ring, a DP20, and Ferrier again. This picture was a more recent one, taken from a security feed, and showed the man walking furtively down a hallway with a cigarra in one hand and a blaster in the other.

Linna groaned at the sight. “He’s going to reek of smoke when we catch him,” she whispered. “That’s not one of the sweet-smelling brands either.”

“Given his role in securing their portion of the Katana fleet, we expect Ferrier has considerable knowledge of the Imps’ secret grand admiral. He may even know who their secret source inside New Republic command is. This capture is a high-value op,” Atril began before stepping away.

“We’ll drop out of hyperspace inside the upper edges of Kemal’s atmosphere and commence the search from there,” Hirakyl told them. “With luck, that will mask our entrance. The most we know about the Ring is it’s floating in the upper mesosphere along the planetary centerline. Its size will show up on sensors more compared to our ships and fighters, so that should give us the element of surprise. My Banshee and Captain Tabanne’s Ession Strike will handle most of searching duties, with A-Wings and our fighters helping as lead scouts.”

Dorset glanced over to the group of Corellian pilots opposite them in the hangar and their R-41 Starchasers and Y-Wings. Their flightsuits were light gray with crimson stripes, matching those snubfighters’ color scheme, while Dorset wore a blue flightsuit and the Wraiths all had dark gray.

She could tell there was uneasiness among the Corellian pilots given Radie’s presence and her secret past, but hopefully Tyria Sarkin hadn’t been able to detect that through the blasted Force.

“Once we have pinpointed a location for the platform, the A-Wings will escort the shuttle while our fighters and bombers clear out surface defenses. We expect a few Uglies will be there too. General Cracken’s people have identified this hangar as the best for entry and landing,” Hirakyl told them as he pointed to an entrance port at the middle of the right side. 

Dorset quickly sketched its location on a piece of flimsi, raising a hand. “I assume they’ll be able to work out our approach point as well - the Nu-class shuttle has a fair bit of speed, but it’s still not anything close to an interceptor. If we’re going up against stormtroopers and fringe types, how much firepower do you think they’ll be able to set up in the hangar before I land?”

Hirakyl glanced over at his New Republic counterpart. “Do your pilots always ask questions in these briefings? Our style is for them to learn everything they need to know and then go do it.”

His tone was mild rather than reproving, though, and Atril smiled slightly in response. “It’s our tradition - I’ve found these questions help identify any missing parts of the plan and shore up contingency ideas. Besides, we haven’t even gotten to the Wraiths’ usual question…”

“What do we blow up first?” Kell asked as he led the squadron in saying it together.

“Exactly. Though we should keep the explosions to a minimum since it’s a near-orbital platform. I’m afraid the assault team will have to improvise, because there’s no telling where Ferrier and the Imps will be meeting. You’ll have to fan out and clear it section by section til they’re found. And Dorset, you’ll wait at the shuttle in the hangar with Radie in case any stragglers show up.”

Dorset nodded, glancing over - Radie didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she’d be held back to safeguard the shuttle and its pilot. It was their ride out, and about as essential to success as capturing Ferrier would be. Dorset was certainly relieved, given Radie’s commando experience.

Shifting her gaze back over to the holo-image of the platform, Dorset studied it closely. Their Nu shuttle would land in the designated hangar and the assault forces would move out in groups of four. Face would lead Team One with Dia, Shalla, and Elassar, while Kell led Team Two - Tyria, Runt, and Voort. Elscol Loro had slipped off after the Tatooine retreat to find a civilian ship and some of her old resistance fighters, then went back to the desert planet to look for Deena Shan. 

The Wraiths’ hope was that the Imperial objective had been to drive off New Republic forces and then move on, rather than occupy the planet. But there were concerns Thrawn might have been looking for something called the Eidolon Project to further supplement his dreadnaughts and thus would keep forces there, even though Elscol said it had already been discovered.

The Corellian pilots and soldiers hadn’t made an effort to introduce themselves - with Bel Iblis kept apart from the official New Republic command structure, they were merely two groups who had a common enemy. At least Radie had confirmed the Corellian general no longer held fears Mon Mothma plotted to take over as empress and that potential opposition wasn’t needed now.

Radie still had a lot of bitterness towards the Council Chief - as she’d told Dorset, Mon Mothma pushing Bel Iblis out led to her mother’s and uncle’s deaths. But given what Dorset heard from others about the schism, now a popular fleet topic, she wondered how fair that blame was. You have more important things to worry about than Radie’s objectivity, she chided mentally as she kept studying the surrounding layout of the Kemal Ring and how long the search could take.

An hour at the maximum, unless the stormtroopers put up such a fight that we have to retreat. I should probably plan alternate landing spots in case a different hangar is closer to where they capture Ferrier at - that way I can swing around the station and pick them up. We’ll need a way to keep him contained too; he’s a big guy and that could be a problem Radie shouldn’t solve.  

Linna raised a hand this time, rather than blurting out her question. “How sure are we that the Imps will only have one Star Destroyer in the general vicinity?”

Both Atril and Commander Hirakyl frowned at the question.

“We’re not,” Atril replied. “General Cracken worries we may have come by this information too easily, and there’s still the problem of Delta Source. But we’ll have more ships of our own: Harrier - that’s one of Bel Iblis’ dreadnaughts - and two New Republic Star Destroyers will be waiting minutes away.”

“Which two?” Radie asked with a sly half-smile. Linna, having kept in contact with Nir aboard Swift Liberty, shook her head before Atril responded though. 

“Crynyd and Moonshadow - Admiral Vantai has finally recovered from his wounds at Xyquine.” 

Radie nodded in disappointment as the briefing ended, and Dorset patted her on the back while a sudden idea struck her that could make things better.

She raised a hand, looking toward Commander Mayn and Captain Tabanne. “Would it be alright if Radie and I stayed back here for an hour or so? I spent a lot of time at Coruscant spaceports as a child and Radie’s father was a smuggler” - Dorset managed not to stumble over the lie - “so we both could have valuable insight to brainstorm about the platform and who we might run into there. We can share the high points with the Wraiths after and it’ll give me shuttle practice too.”

The two New Republic officers nodded their approval after a moment, and then their group filed out leaving Radie and Dorset behind. Linna waved, looking slightly miffed about being separated, and Dorset resolved to make it up to her later. Even if she couldn’t actually explain the reason.

***

Once Ession Strike’s shuttle had cleared the hangar, the crowd of Corellian pilots and soldiers turned their gaze to Radie - and past her, to Dorset. But this wasn’t a “welcome back” reaction. Their expressions ranged from suspicious to downright hostile. Like an interloper was present.

They don’t know that I know, Dorset realized, glancing over to Radie and shrinking back. But her wingmate had already started running over to where Hirakyl stood, and after a brief moment of surprise on his part the father and daughter were embracing for the first time in two years. At least the other Corellians looked a bit confused now.

“Dad, this is my best friend,” Radie said as she beckoned Dorset over and then registered the expressions directed at her. “Guys, lighten up. I told Dors everything, why do you think she had us stay behind?”

Radie pulled Dorset into a bear hug to prove the point, her feet lifting slightly off the ground, then ruffled her hair affectionately. “I’m gonna catch up with my dad, do you want to look around at all the snubfighters here? We have even more down below, that’s where my YT-2000 is parked.”

One of the pilots still looked a bit annoyed at this, but Radie laughed him off. “Trell, relax. I have over two years of back-dated promotions coming so let’s assume I hold seniority. If not - take it up with the captain. Dors can play around with whatever she wants today, I owe her that much.”

Dorset made the most of this approval, walking cheerfully past the group of Corellians toward a V-Wing interceptor from the Clone Wars era. It was low to the ground, so she clambered up the side without a ladder and swung into the cockpit. The flight controls were still familiar - Dorset had gone on V-Wing flights as a teenager on Coruscant. The Imperials used it to try and recruit me, she remembered with a bit of shame. How can I judge Radie after going along with that?

But it was still a happy moment from her childhood all the same, so she embraced it and moved the stick and throttle like she was flying. Dorset didn’t get too exuberant, though - she’d have thrown out more than words if someone hopped in her A-Wing and started yanking the controls wildly. It was a safe bet the Corellians were similarly territorial, even if most didn’t have personal ships of their own and rotated flight assignments based on each mission’s parameters.

Once Dorset had her fill of the V-Wing, she slid back down, shrugged at the watching pilots, and traipsed over to an R-41 Starchaser. Time to see what’s made Radie so interested in these, she thought as she sat down in the cockpit. A stray red-orange hair stuck in the headrest confirmed this had once been Radie’s own fighter, making Dorset smile as she familiarized herself with it.

Next she bypassed the older Y-Wings and went on to Banshee’s lower hangar, finding Radie’s YT-2000, the Nu-class shuttle, two Porax-38 fighters that were covered up, the HWK-290, and a pair of Skipray Blastboats. Dorset pulled the tarp off the closest Porax, gasping slightly as she recognized the black sheen covering it - a similar stealth coating as the A-Wings she and Radie had flown to capture Kuat. Radie told them how to replicate it? No wonder she could’ve gotten life in prison if things turned out differently. Dorset was unsettled by the realization but moved on.

The YT-2000 was next in line, and as she walked up the ramp Dorset hoped there wouldn’t be any more surprises. But Radie had invited her to go in alone - so she did. Its interior was mostly sparse, aside from the well-stocked armory and a cargo hold with three speeder bikes. Radie’s quarters had a twinkling star projection on the ceiling until she entered and brought up the lights. 

Dorset found sets of uniforms, a few medals, winter coats and boots, and some casual clothes in the closet. Left in the bed was an old datapad bound in a nerfhide frame, “Corellian Dreams” written by hand on the cover. Dorset left it closed, knowing it represented a journal of sorts. 

A projector nearby had rotating holos of Radie with various people - her parents, an older boy and girl with dark brown hair, the woman who’d trained Radie in combat, a group image with Bel Iblis and other soldiers.

From what she’s said, a lot of them are dead now, Dorset realized grimly before she tapped the projector to turn it off. Looking at that felt too much like she was intruding, even with permission. The desk opposite the bed had a few odds and ends strewn about from around three years ago; Dorset smiled as she recognized they included old CorSec briefing material on the Terrik group.

The sound of footsteps made Dorset back out of the room sheepishly before she could explore further, but Radie offered a cheerful wave while entering the hallway with her father as well.

“What do you think?” Radie asked. Dorset was struck by the lightness in how she carried herself now that she wasn’t hiding her past and present allegiances; she was home again. 

“It’s a good ship, but I’d rather fly the YT-2400 from Gorom - no offense. This is cozy, though.”

“None taken - since you picked another Corellian design,” Radie said as her smile grew. “And compared to our old HWK-290, it’s perfect - using that as a family ship was downright cramped.”

Radie’s father caught up to them, and Dorset noticed for the first time he had a persistent limp in one leg. No wonder he holds a fleet command role while Radie and her mom fought in the field.

“Thank you for watching her back these past three years,” Martos told her formally, extending a hand which Dorset shook after a moment. “I know keeping her secret wasn’t easy either.” 

Dorset nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious at the praise. “We looked out for each other, sir. And she’s my wingmate - there’s a code.”

“I told you she’s modest,” Radie called over to them as she returned from her bedroom. “Not like the other lieutenant in our flight - the blonde one. Usually I cool the ship at least fifteen degrees more than this, Dors, so you’ll want to bring that leather coat if you’re onboard for an actual run. It reminds me of the mountain air back home. Sorry, dad, but I think we should be leaving now.”

Martos nodded reluctantly before smiling. “Well, there’s a droid you should see again before then.”

Radie blinked quizzically, then grinned as an old R5 astromech covered in chipping red paint rolled up to her and beeped. “You kept Flat Top for me?”

“Of course,” he answered, tapping its side and patting her shoulder. “I remember how much you liked having him around after Zie- after you came back from Corellia.”

Dorset looked down at that, stepping back toward Radie’s quarters to give them a moment, and smelled a hint of wood-fire smoke. “Sorry to interrupt - but what is that?”

Radie glanced backward then laughed. “Don’t worry about it, I just like to have the ship smelling like a campfire. It’s another thing that reminds me of better times when we’d all gather together around one after mom or dad came back from a mission.”

Dorset nodded; she could relate with the scent of paint, either for her own Delta-6 or on models.

“Did you have an astromech before you enlisted with the New Republic?” Martos asked.

“I wish,” Dorset answered sadly. “One wouldn’t fit with the old snubfighter I managed to put back together, and it would’ve been hard to afford as well. Plus- well, my parents wouldn’t let me keep one in the skytower we lived at. They didn’t want me to become a pilot professionally. I did get an astromech as part of a special project I worked on, but it was lost in a crash.”

Martos nodded, embarrassed by the question now, then hugged them both and said to be careful on the mission.

***

Dorset strapped herself into the Nu-class shuttle’s pilot seat and began flipping the switches to power up, glancing over to see how Radie was handling their departure from her real group. 

“Sorry I didn’t give them advance notice that you knew,” Radie said, her face shifting back into a guarded mask rather than her almost carefree expression aboard Banshee. “I couldn’t risk it if NRI was monitoring the comm traffic on my datapad and found out you were covering for me.”

“I understand given the circumstances,” Dorset replied. “Your dad seems nice but a bit distant.”

“He is,” Radie told her softly. “Losing mom was hard on him, especially since I stayed back on Corellia for a year. But we talked a lot over the datapad and by holo sometimes after Selaggis. He knew what I was going through with Ro’s death. I needed it, because Ro had been the one I could talk to about split loyalties to home and having lost a parent - or both in her case - and the harsh realities of war that the rest of you didn’t know yet. We were a good fit; she was outgoing so I could tag along. I’d been avoiding attachment before and Ro was my bridge to the group.”

Radie’s voice was rough and hoarse, but she seemed composed as Dorset patted her shoulder.

“We had a pact: if one of us didn’t make it, the other wouldn’t mourn forever. She’d climb up and move on. That was part of why I got interested in Bell,” Radie said with a melancholy smile. “It was good to think about getting back out there; how someone like me might have a future when peace finally comes after all. Plus she represented Corellia, at a time when I was longing for home more than ever. But now, I don’t really know if that could amount to much - she’s a superior officer, not that I care about it. Maybe the whole thing was just wishful thinking on my part; this wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Let me guess: one of those earlier times was a famous Corellian smuggler you heard of when you were a teenager - she’s gone boring and legit now, with an ex-CorSec guy to boot?”

Radie glared at her in mock annoyance, blushing, then shifted back into a serious expression. 

“For all I said about moving on, Ro’s memory is still with me,” Radie told Dorset gently as she tapped over her heart. “Same for mom and Bria; for Tetengo and Rushi with you. Now enough talk about the people we lost - you need to get ready for the Kemal operation. It’ll be bumpy.”

The softness in her brown eyes faded away as Radie spoke, replaced with the usual simmering anger as she mentally prepared for the mission too. “We’re going to catch this guy, see what he knows about their grand admiral, and make him pay for giving up the Katana fleet. Maybe he’ll have even rigged them up with a kill switch we can use.”

Chapter Text

17

Dorset cursed as the Nu-class shuttle hit a vertical crosswind and slid up 100 meters in three seconds. The control sticks were shaking at each bump, and the whole ship rattled around them as well. Kemal was made of thick silver clouds, and even with running lights on she could barely see the two A-Wings in front. The V-Wings were in place behind them, while Ession Strike flew a klick above their position in top cover. 

Harrier was hidden nearby, but Crynyd and Moonshadow had been diverted to ward off an Imp attack in a nearby sector. The mission was still going ahead without that support.

They hit another air pocket and the gust nearly flipped the shuttle onto its wing; Dorset heard an annoyed grunt from the passenger section before someone grabbed one of the plastic bags off the underside of their seat and vomited. At least she was able to gently roll the shuttle level, and for a change Dorset was glad to be flying the hulking crate rather than a little A-Wing. 

The two interceptors in front of them were bouncing around on the unpredictable winds, and at least twice Strike had to guide them back on course with its tractor beam. Dorset couldn’t keep an exact count, not without drawing her own focus away from the search course they followed.

Tracking Banshee was another distraction she couldn’t afford, but Radie was on that and she’d activated the shuttle’s air fresheners as well. Yellow lightning split the gray clouds ahead, but all Dorset saw was an abandoned, still floating Tibanna gas mining station. At least that meant they were in the right general area. Sensors were practically useless in the fog, only showing objects within a five klick radius unless they were capital ships. But if the NRI reports were true, Ferrier was making the Imps bring a Star Destroyer to the Ring and load supplies up from there.

Why he wouldn’t just board an ISD in deep space and complete the deal in a matter of minutes, no one had been able to work out. But the delay was giving them the opportunity they needed.

Their formation trundled along, keeping pace with the Nu-class shuttle - it flew at the speed of a TIE Bomber - until nearly an hour later the helmsman of Banshee was reporting a sensor blip.

“It’s a triangle, seventy klicks out. Looks like a Star Destroyer, and there’s a ring just in front.”

“Copy that,” Atril replied. “We’re starting to pick them up ourselves. Want to have Harrier drop in over top of them once we engage to keep our two destroyers in reserve?”

“Affirmative. Assault team, move in on vector two-five-eight. ETA is seven minutes,” Hirakyl told them all. “Snubfighters - stay tight until we’re in visual range, then hit their cannon turrets.”

Dorset gave her acknowledgement, sparing a glance backward to the troops. The Wraiths and Corellians wore dark gray body armor with New Republic insignia in white outlines rather than the full red starbird - that wouldn’t stick out as much against the anticipated hallway designs. They all carried an assortment of blaster rifles and explosives; their reports said Ferrier had brought a small army with him during a battle over information leading to the Katana fleet.

Radie had padded armor over her flightsuit, with her Se-14c slung onto one shoulder and the modified DL-44 in a thigh holster. It was a bit much - especially since she probably had more weapons tucked away - but Dorset didn’t mind because Radie was assigned to guard duty.

Their formation accelerated as it got within 60 klicks away, rising to the maximum speed the Nu shuttle could manage. Stray bolts of lightning arced around them, and a bubble of methane in the air caught fire two klicks to the right. Dorset cursed again but stayed on course.

The Corellians had painted the shuttle’s nose to look like a sabre-tooth cat, though it didn’t mesh with the “Hellhound” identifier as well, and Dorset hoped that would provide an intimidating edge when they finally landed. She had no idea what to expect inside the hangar, but her job was just to get there. Radie, the Wraiths, and the Corellian strike team would handle the rest of that.

“Two minutes out!” Atril told them all over the comm. Strike and Banshee accelerated to take the lead for their formation, with V-Wings next in line and the A-Wings on either side of the shuttle. 

“I’m transmitting the jump instructions to Harrier now,” the Gamorrean Voort said from a control station in the rear of the ship. With luck, his calculations would bring their Katana dreadnaught out of hyperspace just a klick above the now-visible Star Destroyer parked left of the ring. 

Dorset would have liked to see the look on Ferrier’s face when he was charged down by Voort, not to mention his reaction upon learning how smart he was due to genetic experimentation. 

But again, taking Ferrier alive was someone else’s department today. It was good that Radie would be held in reserve as a guard in that regard - though she would be more likely to follow a capture order from Bel Iblis than anyone else. What happens to Ferrier when we do capture him isn’t my concern either, but I get the feeling Bel Iblis’ people would interrogate him - not NRI.

The gray Star Destroyer and black orbiting platform were both visible now through the fog-like clouds, and Dorset pushed in full afterburner to wring just a little bit more speed out of the Nu shuttle. With luck, they’d be landing in the hangar in 60 seconds. Dorset just hoped the DP20 corvette would be close, with Ferrier onboard and hemmed in. The troops behind her were checking blasters, and Radie grinned as she tapped against the handle of her own carbine.

“This is Strike - we’re maneuvering to engage the Star Destroyer. Harrier will exit hyperspace within fifteen seconds so brace yourselves,” Atril told them coolly. “Happy hunting, Wraiths.”

Dorset pushed the shuttle low, feeling sweat drip down her neck as she tightened her grip on the control sticks. “Everyone hang on! Turbulence in five, four, three-”

The Katana dreadnaught burst into realspace two klicks up, setting off a thunderclap she could hear inside the shuttle and kicking out a shockwave that tossed the scrambled flight of Uglies into each other. Three of the four cobbled-together craft exploded, while the survivor was easily vaped by one of the Corellian V-Wings. The Ugly had been a pair of straight, Headhunter-style wings grafted onto a TIE’s ball cockpit. It wasn’t the worst concept Dorset had seen fielded.

Harrier was firing down already, with shields up and wreathed in flame after the methane around it ignited. The Star Destroyer below on the other hand was caught flat-footed, its comms tower the first item targeted and destroyed by Bel Iblis’ dreadnaught. Dorset watched the scene for a few more seconds, then pulled the shuttle into a steep dive that drew more groans from behind. At least they had inertial compensators so the maneuver didn’t lift them out of their seats.

The hyperspace shockwave had shaken the shuttle badly and made even more of the ground troops sick - including Elassar and Tyria - but Dorset managed to keep on course. Now they were only seconds from landing, and she flipped a switch to set off a yellow light for them. 

“We’ll be on the deck in 10 seconds,” Dorset called without turning around as she focused on their approach vector. “Here we g- Sithspit!”

Dorset yanked the stick hard left as she saw a TIE-Headhunter starting to lift off on repulsors in front of them, banking the shuttle and spinning around to get a targeting lock. She flicked the trigger cover off and squeezed down, blasting shots into the Ugly and scorching the hangar wall behind it. The fighter careened off on an outbound vector, trailing fire, then exploded.

“That’s a kill, but we’re not out of it yet,” Radie told her. “E-Web on the catwalk at nine o’clock.”   

Dorset could feel the shuttle shake under the jolts but its shields were holding. “Sorry, but you’ll need to stay inside for a little bit longer while we deal with this suppressing fire. Hang on.”

She twisted the shuttle back around toward the opening, then carefully sighted in on the crew manning their heavy repeating blaster to cover the inside of the hangar. It was a good setup to hit boarding parties. The targeting selector flashed green and she fired two shots that pierced the E-Web power unit, detonating it without tearing a hole in the platform’s hull. Other spacers around the hangar were firing with rifles and pistols, but their shots sparked harmlessly.

“Radie - can you take over the guns? We don’t need to be so precise any more.”

 “That’s what I’m here for,” Radie answered, pulling out her own firing controls and focusing on a group of five close together. The paired blaster cannons on either side of the nose rotated down toward them, then opened up with far more devastating fire that cut all five down in seconds. 

Dorset winced, but at least they didn’t have time to cry out - or she hadn’t heard it through the cockpit. It had to be done so the assault team could move in safely. And the other spacers are running away now; Radie scared them off. I can finally lower the ramp and hit the green light.

“Hellhound to Strike - we’re on the deck and deploying troops. Will update with capture report.”

The Corellian detachment was first out, sweeping their blasters around at the sides and upper catwalks in case anyone had remained for an ill-advised ambush. But the shooting was over. The Wraiths followed after them in a more leisurely manner, and then they were all gone.

Now all Dorset and Radie could do was wait, listen to the comm channel, and keep the engines running.

***

“You know, those TIE-Headhunters aren’t that bad of a concept,” Dorset said as she peered out toward the last surviving one at the end of the hangar. Radie stood up, her hands falling away from where they were tapping against the grips of her blasters, and pulled out macrobinoculars that had been stowed under the control panels. Of course she knows the layout of the shuttle.

Dorset took the binocs and zoomed in for a closer look at the rear of the grafted-together fighter. The twin engines at the rear of the ball cockpit had been replaced with a shield generator and auto-loader for torpedoes, since the Headhunter wings had four engines of their own. Dorset pointed it out to Radie as she handed the binocs over again, smiling slightly at the design.

“Look above the black circle on the side of the TIE section,” Dorset said helpfully. Radie froze when she saw that, her arm muscles clenching and eyes narrowing.

“Wait here,” she commanded while drawing her DL-44 and offering it to Dorset by the grip, the other hand pulling her Se-14c to bear. “I need to check something. Lock up behind me.”

Dorset accepted the smaller but stun-free pistol, confused and worried, then watched Radie leave without further explanation. She was sprinting away, and Dorset reluctantly hit the button to seal the ramp behind her. Every mission since that Grand Admiral showed up has had some wrinkle to it, and I’m tired of them. What the kriff is it this time?

Radie was taking a knee by what was left of the five spacers she’d mowed down with the nose cannons, apparently looking for something on their clothing. Within a few seconds she’d found whatever it was, because she jumped up and ran back toward the shuttle. Dorset slapped the ramp lowering button this time, pacing anxiously until Radie was back in the cockpit.

“Hellhound to Assault Team - be on the lookout for Black Sun troops. They’re the ones providing security here, they must have taken it over since the intelligence profile was put together. Kriff!”

Radie followed that with more Rylothean curses, breathing heavily from the run, and collected her blaster pistol from where Dorset had set it on the side panel. 

“Black Sun? I know about them operating on Coruscant during the Imperial days, but I thought they were wiped out once the New Republic took over.”

“I wish. No, most just retreated to the Outer Rim or other uncontrolled areas and regrouped from there. They deal in slaves, spice and glitterstim, black market weapons, extortion - I’ve got a score to settle with them too. But Ferrier comes first today.” 

Dorset gulped - listening to Radie talk, it seemed she had enemies in every corner of the galaxy and wouldn’t be satisfied until they were all defeated or dead. Assuming she made it that far.

The thought was something that had haunted Dorset since she learned of Radie’s past, maybe even longer. “We fight until they’re dead or we are,” Radie had said during the Atravis ambush.

“Wraith One to Group - thanks for clearing that up, we were wondering who was shooting at us. It’s slow going but we’re making our way through the station now,” Face told them on the comm, heavy rates of blaster fire echoing off the walls in the distance. 

“Roger that. You give them hell then, Loran!” Radie answered with a worried expression.

They both waited anxiously after that as the comm fell silent, Radie with one hand on the grip of her reholstered blaster pistol. Dorset could tell she wanted to be out there in the thick of it.

***

Dorset could hear blaster fire increasing through the open hangar doors, and started to look to Radie with the question of whether they should close the ramp, lock down, and ready weapons.

But then a sense of calm came over her, and warmth. It felt like she was flying through the puffy white clouds that had been painted on her childhood room in the skytower, covered in a heated blanket. Everything is fine, a voice said from the back of her mind. You’ll be leaving soon.

Radie was wide-eyed with fear - but something told Dorset to ignore it and stay at the controls. She laughed while her friend exhaled sharply, forcing all the air from her lungs and pulling two oxygen masks from the overhead compartment. Radie put one on herself first, then looked over with an apologetic expression that left Dorset confused, worried, and angry - strange as it was.

And then Radie slugged Dorset hard at the top of her stomach, leaving her bent double without even the ability to wheeze in fresh air at first. Dorset could feel Radie forcing the other mask on her face but was in too much pain to resist it, not that she knew why she felt compelled to do so.

Finally she sucked in air through the tube under her mask, its taste acridly filtered - but all the feeling of warmth and clouds was gone. And the sound of footsteps coming up the ramp was suddenly terrifying; Dorset wasn’t sure why she hadn’t recognized that earlier.

“Get behind me!” Radie hissed quietly through her own mask, pulling the Se-14c up and flicking its selector tab into automatic fire as she crouched low. 

The group came up from the ramp at a leisurely pace, talking about how they would use the shuttle to get away - and then Radie was sweeping blaster fire across them indiscriminately.

There had been five of them at first; two were killed outright while the others wore armor but still fell to the ground with cries of pain. Radie lowered the barrel of her blaster, aiming her shots into their heads - then the green-skinned alien behind them charged, grabbed her wrist, and twisted.

Radie hissed but swung back with a left hook that sounded like it might have shattered his jaw. She followed it by pulling her DL-44 out and squeezing three shots into his belly - but he wore armor too and fended it off with a grunt, knocking the pistol away as well. 

***

In addition to the dogfights and space battles, Dorset was familiar with hand-to-hand challenge matches and the basics of infantry combat. But this was something foreign and terrifying. The Falleen was portly and half a head taller than Radie, while she was more agile and ferocious. 

Radie ducked under a return swing - the Falleen’s closed fist barely clearing her head - and snapped a kick between his legs while he was off balance. Dorset saw him wince despite the armor, and then Radie was charging forward, her shoulder lowered, and tackling him into the deck. His head clanged against the metal twice - Radie was slamming it down by the topknot.

They fell into a mix of offense and defense after that; the Falleen was scratching deep into the side of Radie’s face as he tried to pull her mask off, while she pummeled her right fist into his liver and earlier blaster wounds. Both of them were trying to use their opposite arm to ward off some of the other’s attacks as a secondary focus - their goal was to kill first, heal up later.

Dorset wanted to help but didn’t know how, and the blasters had skidded away to the other side of the cockpit. She doubted she could reach them without being tripped or stumbling over one of the five already-dead bodies. Even if I did, would I hit the Falleen and not Radie? 

Radie shrieked through the mask as he ripped out a chunk of blood-stained hair, then rammed her right knee into his groin in response and seized on the moment by throwing her left leg over his arm.

“Dors, pin that other one!” she yelled.

Dorset dove onto it, barely holding the arm down even as she used as much weight as possible. But it was working - the Falleen’s eyes were widening as he realized the pheromones wouldn’t save him and they’d trapped him against the deck. 

Radie took her vibro-knife out of her boot, her fingers wrapped inside the knuckle guard as she hit him across the face repeatedly.

“You thought you could take over my mind? Kriff you!”

Dorset gulped as the Falleen fixed her with a silent and pleading expression as blood poured from his nose, but Radie grabbed him by the topknot again so he had to stare up at her instead. His throat was exposed by the motion as well.

“Dors, look away!” Radie shouted, and her hand was slashing down gripping the blade this time-

When she opened her eyes, Radie was wiping her hands off with the Falleen’s black cape. The green blood had puddled under his neck, there was so much you could almost smell it in the air.

Dorset took off the mask and grabbed a bag from under a nearby seat just in time. She sank into the seat afterward, her hands and legs shaking.

“Are you hurt?” Radie asked, hurrying over and dropping to a knee so they were about level as she peered into Dorset’s eyes. "I'm so sorry about the punch, there was no other way..."

It seemed an absurd question; Dorset wasn’t the one with drying blood all down the side of her face and another mix of red and green splattered on her uniform.

“No, I just… we really killed him?” Dorset asked, her teeth chattering slightly as she sipped from her water bottle. 

Radie’s gaze softened, and she reached up to grab a pair of emergency blankets from overhead then draped one over her front like a smock. 

“No, Dors - all you did was protect both of us by making sure he couldn’t rip my mask off. I killed him. Not you,” Radie said. She pulled Dorset to her feet, wrapping her in the other blanket, then brought her into a hug once she was certain it wouldn’t smear blood onto her flightsuit as well.

“It’s over. You’re safe now,” Radie whispered, her warm breath rustling through the left side of Dorset’s hair. Dorset was still shivering, but she nodded and snuggled her face deeper against Radie’s shoulder. At least this was a real sense of child-like warmth, held up by the strong arms of someone who was an older sister in all but name.

Chapter Text

18

“Who the kriff were those guys?” Dorset asked once she slipped out of the embrace.

“The Falleen’s a Black Sun captain named Xuvil,” Radie answered, spitting down at him. “Kriffin’ slaver. The others were just hired muscle, far as I can tell.”

She dropped into a crouch, ripping away the engraved clasp that held Xuvil’s cape together and pocketing it. “Word is there’s a hundred-thousand credit bounty for him back on Ryloth, dead or alive. That Black Sun brooch plus photos of his condition should be enough to claim it.”

Dorset glanced sideways at her, a bit alarmed. “What are you, a bounty hunter now?”

Given all the revelations of the past few weeks, it wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise in the galaxy if Radie said yes. But she shook her head, scoffing at the thought.

“No, I just think it would be better served helping a charity group than filling up some merchant’s coffers. Though I bet I could be a really good bounty hunter if I tried,” Radie answered with a laugh. “It would be nice to avenge the rebels at Montellian Serat too.”

Dorset nodded, still rattled from seeing the fight right in front of her - and the six bodies left on the deck. She was glad Radie hadn’t gotten her to help drag them out of the shuttle yet. 

“How about you fly out in that last TIE-Headhunter?” Radie suggested as she finished wrapping a new bandage around the side of her head. “You were so interested in it before; it’d be good for you and we can pass it off as taking a prototype for future analysis at Gorom. But this one would be your own personal fighter, not New Republic property. We’ll say you taught me to fly the Nu.”

“I can really just steal a Black Sun fighter and keep it?” Dorset asked, surprised but hopeful.

“Why not? They let Booster Terrik keep an entire Star Destroyer, and this would have an official purpose. Plus we need all the fighters we can get, and you earned it today. Strike has room.”

Dorset smiled broadly, picking up her helmet and the oxygen mask. “Thanks, I owe you again.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll admit it, you’re better than me in space. But on the ground - anyone that tries to hurt you or Linna is going to have to go through me first,” Radie said with a malevolent smirk as she looked down at the Falleen’s body. “So let them die trying.”

The comm channel came back on a few minutes later, but it was Atril not Face speaking. 

“Assault team, return to the shuttle and get out of there. The DP20 corvette just launched and slipped our tractor beam by dropping a Conner net. We’ll get Ferrier some other time, I hope.”

They both walked down the ramp to wait for the Wraiths’ arrival, Radie holding a blaster rifle taken off the Falleen’s men in case more Black Sun soldiers showed up first. But instead they saw a tired-looking Kell at the front of the group, now carrying a third of the explosives he had left with, and the other Wraiths following behind. Radie counted along, then froze as she looked over the nine Corellians.

Dorset cursed under her breath as she realized it - 10 had been aboard the shuttle, and the man in front hadn’t been their leader at the time.

“We lost Dar- Lieutenant Kives,” the man told them stiffly. “Stormtroopers had an E-Web in one of the hallways, it cut him down while we tried to cross. These things happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Radie said with a nod. “Black Sun sent these guys to hijack our shuttle, so you’ll need to help pull their bodies out. Dorset’s going to fly off in one their last fighter as an escort; she taught me enough on how to fly this thing. Let’s mount up and get out of here.”

*** 

Dorset carefully landed the TIE-Headhunter alongside the Nu shuttle and climbed out through the top-opening canopy. The fighter - she couldn’t bear to call it an Ugly after flying it - carried two ion cannons in the front, with regular blaster cannons on the wingtips like a standard Z-95. Since it consisted of a TIE-style cockpit and the two wings grafted on, it took up very little room in the hangar as well. Radie did have a point that it could be a concept to explore for use on smaller escort carriers like Ession Strike, especially given the availability of needed parts.

“What’s the story behind this?” Captain Tabanne asked curiously when she saw Dorset standing in front of her new fighter. “Stealing TIEs - if you call it one - would be more of a Wraith practice. I ought to know, I was at Storinal.”

“We thought it would be useful for flight test and evaluation, given my previous assignment after Selaggis,” Dorset answered as she tried to hold a blank expression rather than grinning. “It flies well, despite the unconventional design.”

“And technically she’s claiming it as her own property - rather than for New Republic ownership in general - ma’am.” Radie interjected helpfully. “That is her right, and Black Sun won’t miss it.”

Atril sighed, looking to see whether the Wraiths were laughing, then nodded. “Very well. See if you can draw up a simulator equivalent to start the testing there, and I’ll check on whether this can be transported to Gorom soon. I assume you want to keep flying your A-Wing in combat?”

Dorset nodded, already looking to see where her first and favorite snubfighter - not counting her Delta-6 - had been moved to in the hangar. “Yes. I hope this isn’t causing any issues, Captain.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, and I was a pilot once so I understand. We’ll get the blue paint ready.”

***

Dorset was beaming as she returned to her quarters, but Radie sank down onto her bed tiredly once the doors closed.

“Hey - at least Ferrier escaping means you could have a shot at him yourself,” Dorset offered in an attempt to cheer her up. She didn’t know how Radie hadn’t hurried off to the medical station to get the side of her head stitched yet, given the way the Falleen had scratched it with his nails.

“I know. It’s because of Dar getting killed back there,” Radie answered grimly as she brushed her hair back and retrieved the holoprojector from her bed, showing the group image with Bel Iblis. She pointed to one soldier in particular, a tan-haired man in the back row.

“We fought in a few of the same missions… I knew him but not very well.” 

“Oh.” Dorset cursed herself inwardly, realizing that Radie hadn’t been able to show that reaction to anyone until she was in the safety of her quarters. And I was celebrating my new toy fighter.

“I’m just drained is all. There were a few others we lost during the time I’d been part of the New Republic military; this isn’t a first. But each one still hurts.”

“Why don’t you go to the medics, then, at least to treat the physical pain? Your head, where he twisted your wrist, those chafed knuckles. Even just washing the blood off.”

Radie blinked, then nodded. “Ok, I’ll go. In the field, we were usually on our own to deal with any injuries. I’m not used to having a ready supply of bacta available; I just fight through the pain.”

“Well there’s no reason to keep doing that, and Linna’s getting ready for her usual holocall with Nir once we clear orbit so she won’t know. C’mon.”

***

They were returning from the medical stations when Ession Strike began shaking under fire. Radie had gotten five stitches on the side of her face and some pain relievers, declining the request to stay overnight for observation, and wore a brace around her wrist with bacta gel rubbed across her knuckles.

“All hands, battle stations. Pilots stand by for possible launch,” Tabanne ordered over shipwide comms. Dorset and Radie broke into a run, hurrying back to their quarters to retrieve flight gear and then turning around to head for the hangar. Strike was still within the Kemal atmosphere as it turned and headed back down, evading fire from a distant Star Destroyer.

“Gather round!” Commander Mayn told them as she arrived with Linna in tow. The Wraiths were heading down to the lower hangar, since they would be using their X-Wings this time. “The Imps brought in two more ISD-Ones, so we’re retreating as far into atmosphere as we can until further backup arrives. The good news is we can outrun them, the bad news is reinforcements won’t be sent from Ord Pardron for twelve hours. We need to avoid detection until then.”

Blast it. Pardron is only one grid square away on the galactic map, but we’re behind the lines.

“So much for being rapid response teams,” Linna muttered in annoyance.

“How long do you think it is before they hit our staging area at the asteroid there?” Dorset asked Mayn grimly. “If they push past it up the Triellus Trade Route to Molavar, it’s a straight shot from there to Kamino - if one source of clones wasn’t enough. After that, maybe they strike at Kothlis and Bothawui next. Not to be pessimistic or anything, but the momentum isn’t on our side.”

“I don’t know whether Kamino can still produce clones, but you can bet any facilities there are primed with explosives already,” Mayn answered in reassurance. “As for the rest, we just need to hold the line the best we can. Starting right here.”

“Got it. When do we launch?” Radie asked, buckling her helmet into place over the bandages and checking its comm mic.

“Atril thinks we can hide out long enough in the gas clouds. The Imps will be sending TIEs to probe for us, though, so we have to be ready to shoot any down before they report in. If there’s any luck we won’t launch at all,” Mayn replied.

That’s a good thought, but luck hasn’t exactly been on our side lately. Maybe this is the turn.

At least they waited in the hangar, watching a holoprojection of their formation and any potential incoming sensor blips. The slower Dreadnaught Harrier was taking lead, with the more nimble Strike and Banshee guarding its flanks. Another holo showed a feed for Strike’s bridge while the third gave them a view at the Wraiths’ level. Face and Kell were watching closely, others moving in and out of frame as they awaited updates as well.

Dia Passik popped in, looking toward Radie, and Dorset realized it was a two-way feed.

“Lieutenant Felian - turns out that Falleen you killed to defend the shuttle was a local underboss with Black Sun. Nice work,” she said warmly. 

Radie nodded her thanks, doing a good job of acting surprised at the man’s identity. Then again she had a lot of practice, Dorset mused. She still wasn’t fully comfortable with the deception, but Dorset had chosen to keep her friend’s secret and she was sticking to it. Hopefully Bel Iblis and Mon Mothma would get their personal issues sorted out soon and they’d all be one united fleet.

***

Ession Strike’s image on the holoprojector plunged, and Dorset felt the sudden descent even with their inertial compensators running at full power. The Star Destroyers were somewhere above them, and one had begun releasing proton bombs with a proximity fuse. Harrier had already suffered one hit but was keeping up with the formation. 

On the bridge feed, Atril had taken manual control and was bringing them back out of the dive into an even steeper climb. The artificial gravity strained to keep up, and more than one loose maintenance tool bounced along the deck. But the pilots were used to this, and unbowed.

Strike’s position in a lower altitude gave it sensor cover - at a price. The atmospheric pressure was higher, making the Corellian corvette’s engines strain. If they dropped too low, they would be crushed. It was a major reason Dorset had been ordered to wait in the hangar rather than launch in an even more vulnerable A-Wing amid the high winds. She looked again to the bold red line on the holo, where Strike danced around relative to it, and the ticking chrono above.

They had nine hours, 33 minutes until support arrived. It would have made tactical sense for them to get some rest in the hangar, but she didn’t know how they would manage it without sleep-inducing medication that interfered with their flight readiness. So they waited.

At eight hours, 46 minutes Strike shook roughly - Dorset could see a distant explosion as the methane clouds closest to it erupted in fire as well, burning away. Lightning arced past their ship, narrowly missing its shields. And the Imps were coming down from their position above.

Dorset tensed, waiting for an order to get in her A-Wing and take off, but it never came. Instead Strike increased speed along with Banshee and they began pulling Harrier faster by using their tractor beams aimed in reverse. It was a race, but Dorset didn’t understand - the Imps would just alter their downward course to match. Then she looked back to the full projection and saw why.

Kemal’s gas clouds were silver and gray, for the most part. But a purple storm formed a lopsided circle above the equator, its winds whipping around at 500 klicks per hour without ever stopping. 

And they were headed straight for it.

“That’s one way to lose the Imps,” Dorset told the others as she leaned closer to the holo. “No matter what happens, we’ll have a hell of a view.”

“She can’t be serious,” Mayn whispered. “There’s no kriffing way…”

Radie looked pale and rattled this time, and Dorset almost found it funny. Linna began pulling up data on the wind speeds relative to Strike’s acceleration and power levels, looking intrigued.

“All hands, this is the captain,” Atril announced evenly. “Secure all items and equipment. Report to your emergency stations and strap in. Prepare for turbulence, and may the Force be with us.”

The techs were racing around to close up boxes of weapons and fuel, fix magnetic clamps to all their fighters, and then sit down along the sides of the hangar. The four pilots buckled into their own row of seats in front of the holoprojector. And once again, they waited.

***

Dorset gasped as she saw an edge of the purple cloud envelope them on the projection - the hangar doors were sealed, much to her dismay and Radie’s relief - and then Strike began to shake violently. It felt like some oversized rancor had picked the corvette up and tossed it.

On the holo-feed for the bridge, Atril was working to maintain their tractor beam on Harrier this time. That used the much larger dreadnaught as an anchor, but required a feathery touch so they wouldn’t get too close and crash together. Voort was now steering the ship, since his grip could withstand the ways the control surfaces bucked wildly under the storm and jerked around.

It was clear that Radie was wondering how Banshee would achieve the same goal, so Dorset gave her a quick pat on the forearm. Radie glanced up from her attempt at calming breaths and managed a brief smile in return, checking the screens before closing her eyes once more. If her dad’s ship crashes in this storm, will she have to hide her from the rest of us reaction again? 

Strike jolted underneath them, and Linna gasped this time at the sudden drop that left them in the air slightly before they slid down the seat as well. Radie opened her eyes after a moment, watching the status displays for their own ship, Harrier, and Banshee resolutely. Dorset wasn’t even sure she would remain composed herself if the Marauder-class corvette went down.

But like Radie had told her, Banshee had improved engines and was just as good if not better than Strike. And they had the storm winds behind them now, propelling them faster around to the other edge of the circle. Hopefully the Imps wouldn’t be waiting there - but if they were, it would be a somewhat regular battle at least. Dorset could handle a fight in that atmosphere.

Dorset glanced out the small window at the end of the hangar and saw a bolt of lightning arcing toward them, yellow-white against the violet storm clouds whipping along. Sithspit sithspit sith-

It hit the Strike, sparked across and into its shields, and then everything was dark.

They were falling, Dorset could tell that much by feel, her stomach felt like it was doing flips, and that meant there was a good chance Strike had rolled over at least once as well. 

No power to anything - engines, shields, tractor beams, escape pods. We were still a hundred klicks over the red line but that won’t last long in freefall. Once we pass it we’re all dead.

Someone was throwing up behind them - several people, actually. Radie was hyperventilating in the seat next to her. Linna was holding her breath. Commander Mayn was cursing in ways and languages Dorset had never heard from her. 

The lights flickered twice and then came on, tinted red - they were using backup generators only for the moment. But they had power, and engines. Dorset was slammed back into her seat, and was glad for it because it meant they were climbing like a mynock on fire.

“Get me a status update on Harrier and Banshee now!” Tabanne was ordering from the bridge; the feed that had shown video before was now transmitting sound only. 

“Transmission coming in,” someone from the bridge crew replied. “Both report solid condition and sure are glad to hear from us!”

Radie sighed in relief, and Dorset couldn’t hide a smile as they leveled off. That was kinda fun, but I’m not going to say it out loud until this is over.

***

There were seven hours, 25 minutes left until reinforcements were slated to arrive, and they were coming out of the storm. This would be risky, though - they would have to slingshot their way in sequence to avoid being thrown into each other by the winds. But full power had been restored, and they could see that Captain Tabanne was poised and ready to guide them out.

Harrier was going first, since the more nimble corvettes could better avoid it when their turn came. The dreadnaught altered course, angling slightly out of the wind’s direction, and kicked on full engine power as it strained to break free - and then it was clear of the storm entirely.

Banshee went next, with Radie holding her breath as it rolled sideways and vectored out of the slipstream. At least it had the greater engine power she’d bragged about, and then it was free.

That made it their turn next.

Dorset could hear durasteel creak and groan around them under the strain, but found it curious rather than terrifying like most of the others around the hangar or right next to her. They were punching their way out of the winds, and seeing just how hard the storm could hit back.

The lights flickered but didn’t go out fully this time, and then the hangar doors opened to sedate - by comparison - wispy gray clouds again.

It was time to launch and get ready for a dogfight on the way out.

Chapter Text

19

Dorset brushed her hair back under her helmet, watching Radie gather her own into a standard loose ponytail. Linna’s golden curls cascaded down her back, while Commander Mayn had kept her brown hair trimmed even shorter than Dorset and just pulled a helmet on. Then they got in their A-Wings and reported system checks - weapons, engines, life support, fuel levels.

“We’re ready to launch, Strike. Wraiths, you’re up,” Mayn said over the group comm. Dorset sat back and waited through the list of eight X-Wings, wondering how many TIEs they would have to fight off. At least they’d have the Corellian pilots there, and their dreadnaught. But she really wanted Crynyd and Moonshadow, since their support was promised when the op was planned.

No plan survives contact with the enemy, General Crespin had said during training at Folor. But we didn’t even get to that point; they pulled our Star Destroyers away 30 minutes before launch. Did the Imps know we were coming somehow? This whole thing could be a trap for us then.

While they had cleared the worst of the storms, the gas giant still carried potential dangers for flying - ejection wasn’t a viable option as the core gravity would overcome their seats’ propulsion and pull them into unsurvivable depths. They would have to rely on Strike and Banshee’s tractor beams to recover them if it came to that instead. Dorset could already feel stress-induced sweat beginning to build at the top of her head and trickle down through the back of her matted hair at the thought. It’s simple then - I just have to avoid getting hit too badly.  

The A-Wings took flight, fanning out in front of the formation with the X-Wings behind them and the capital ships at the rear. They could only go as fast as the dreadnaught, though, and were flying in a slight upward trajectory to avoid detection rather than racing straight for space itself.

Meanwhile the Star Destroyers had resumed dropping the proton bombs to try and find them, so their formation weaved in and out of clouds and changed altitudes frequently. Dorset winced at the sight of a bomb exploding 10 klicks left and felt her A-Wing shake slightly at the shockwave.

The Imps would be able to detect how the wave was altered as it hit the dreadnaught and the other capital ships if a blast went off within five klicks, and then they’d be under attack again.

Dorset sighed, rubbing at the headband under her helmet and wondering how they could get out of this jam. Reinforcements were over six hours away. We can’t stay hidden for that long.

“Voort to Banshee - is your corvette capable of reverse thrust at a speed that matches that of a Katana dreadnaught?” the Gamorrean Wraith asked suddenly over the comm.

“We can get up to point-seven their speed going backwards,” Radie’s father answered. “Why?”

“If you’re facing the Strike and flying close in front, the outline of our two ships will look like the dreadnaught with our fighters filling in the gaps. So when the Star Destroyer drops down into attack position, Harrier can bring the heavy end of the hammer on them from above as well. It’s an expansion of a maneuver the Wraiths performed at Folor Base.”

“The Wraiths and Blue Squadron!” Dorset chimed in, smiling at the bittersweet memory. “Do you want me to dust off my Princess Leia act? It’s not up to Face’s standards, but scuttlebutt does say the Imps want to capture her alive for some reason - we could use that to our advantage.”

“Thanks, but not this time. I don’t want them to bring their Force-user into battle,” Loran replied.

“I like the idea - good work, Piggy,” Atril told them as Ession Strike fell back behind the rotating Marauder corvette to pose as the dreadnaught’s rear engines. “We can leak smoke to make it look like we’re damaged and better show up on their sensors.”

The X-Wings and Corellian V-Wing fighters took their positions as well, sitting nearly nose-to-tail along two lines, while the A-Wings remained out in high guard formation. The interceptors were too small and stubby to be used for the disguise, and would do better against any squints. If the formation was spotted visually by a TIE, rather than on sensors that showed barely visible shapes among the gas giant’s clouds, the A-Wings would have to strike before the pilot reported in. This is the reverse of when we were flying as spotters at Vahaba, Dorset thought to herself.

But it should work, as long as their expert grand admiral isn’t the one in charge out there. We need a typical Imperial who doesn’t painstakingly consider whether the measurements make sense and just charges to attack. 

Harrier was rocketing straight up, in a manner that would look more like that of a corvette, and which would hopefully enable it to avoid detection. Voort was calculating where and when the Imperials would be most likely to drop the next proton bombs, so they could set up just within five klicks in order to appear on sensors. We have a genius of our own, let’s see how it goes.

“Strike and Harrier, shift your heading twenty degrees left. I’ve calculated where the next bomb will likely be dropped, we should be just within range at the two minute interval,” Voort directed.

Dorset shook her head, bemused by how he’d managed to figure out the Imperial routines and exploit them in ways she could never hope to repeat, even if she focused on that alone without flying at the same time. 

The wispy gray clouds were much slower now, rolling past their formation in puffy shapes of all sizes while thin, off-white colored tendrils of different composition flitted through the gas giant’s atmosphere and curled around the snubfighters. This planet isn’t that bad at all - now that we’re clear of the high winds, Dorset thought with a smile as she watched a ribbon of white wrap over her canopy and then break apart in all directions once it spun into her engines’ exhaust plumes. 

It’s a lovely planet to explore, but a bad place to die - so stay alert, she chided a few moments later as the timer began ticking down from 15 seconds until the next proton bomb could go off.

***

Dorset adjusted her canopy settings and lowered the protective helmet visor, holding her breath without realizing it as the timer hit zero. Voort’s estimate was only four seconds off, and the flash emerged like a second star going nova just under five klicks to starboard. Dorset tightened her grip on the control stick, waiting for the shockwave to hit their Katana-replicating formation. If it looks like a ship breaking apart, so much the better - Imps love to come down and confirm kills.

Her A-Wing took the blast and rolled 90 degrees, panels and switches rattling inside the cockpit as Dorset hoped nothing important was breaking. Finally it dissipated, and she gently brought her interceptor level while checking important systems. Engines active, blaster cannons primed and ready, auxiliary power unit charged, sensors mostly nominal. It’s as good as I can hope for. 

Commander Mayn reported damage to her right engine but it was still functioning, while Radie’s left torpedo tube wouldn’t be able to cycle after she fired the one already loaded. Linna said her A-Wing had come through unscathed as well, though.

The Wraiths’ X-Wings, with their larger bulk and four engines, all came through in one piece and the Corellian group’s leader said his pilots were fit to fight. Dorset glanced over and saw Radie nodding in relief even as she stayed quiet over the comms. They still held the Harrier formation, but now it was a waiting game for an ISD to swoop in and attack. Just like at Folor Base.

At least there’s no canyon walls to risk colliding with, Dorset thought optimistically as she looked to the chrono measuring the expected fleet reinforcement window: Six hours, eighteen minutes.

“Contact, ten-o’clock high!” Linna shouted over the comm, and Dorset looked over instinctively. The distant triangle of a Star Destroyer was falling toward them like a knife-blade, ominous even at 50 klicks away and closing. Kemal’s atmosphere would still make their formation look like the dreadnaught on sensors at that range, though, and Harrier was moving into attack position.

“All fighters, hold position. A-Wings, stay ready to engage,” Face ordered coolly. Dorset nodded to herself - dreadnaughts weren’t known for carrying many fighters, so that would take the Imps by surprise as well. With luck, they’ll send lightly-escorted bombers in the first wave. It’s not very sporting of me, but we need every advantage we can get if we’re holding out for six damn hours.

The Star Destroyer opened fire at 35 klicks out, ranging shots that missed twice as often as they hit and carried little effect given the distance and inaccuracy. This was just the warmup, though.

“New contacts incoming - looks like Dupes,” Atril told them. “They’ll merge in 45 seconds. A-Wings move in to attack, now!”

Dorset pulled the stick back and kicked on afterburners, savoring the punch-like feeling against her chest as the A-Wing took off at full speed. Worryingly, Commander Mayn was struggling to keep up after the initial shockwave damage - but Linna fell back slightly to maintain formation.

At least Radie will be happy taking the first shots of the battle. Dorset spared a glance at her sensor board, hazy with fog, and saw the cluster of at least a dozen TIE Bombers 15 seconds away - with the A-Wings’ greater speed - and only two to four guardian TIE Interceptors. We’ll be small on their boards; they may not even know we’re coming until it’s too late. I hope.

Dorset and Radie burst through the cloud in front of them, weapons charged, and then the TIE Bombers were in view at two klicks away. They both slammed onto their brakes, pivoting into opposite directions and squeezing the triggers down to spray fire across each half of the group.

The first Dupe within Dorset’s sights exploded after a lucky shot through its bomb compartment and then she managed to cut off the next one’s wing strut, sending it spiraling into another bomber at the rear of the formation and destroying them both. I have to do this, or they’ll flatten Strike’s shields. It doesn’t mean I’m becoming like Radie.

Dorset blinked at the troublesome thought, wondering where it had come from, then glanced back into the battle. Her wingmate had broken through the TIE formation, leaving scraps of metal from four destroyed bombers in her wake, and was now chasing down a fifth and sixth from behind. Dorset knew Radie would be doing that even without having corvettes to defend.     

Worry about it later. You need to protect Strike too, Dorset thought to herself. The last three TIE Bombers from her side of the formation were breaking into an evasive course, and she looped around to pursue and destroy them as well. It was far too easy, but the deed had to be done.

You saw the five Dupes blast that Gallofree to pieces with one drop back on Tatooine, burning everyone inside. Do you want that to happen to Atril? Of course not, so get the next wave.

Commander Mayn and Linna had caught up by now, and together they moved to attack the two full squadrons of Bombers and six TIE Interceptors escorting them for this round. These squints had the dreaded red stripes on their wings, and Dorset cursed softly. You wanted a challenging opponent, didn’t you? Now you’ve got one and then some. Where the kriff are the Wraiths at?

“Dors, Radie - can you hold off the 181st for us?” Mayn asked tersely. Dorset’s scowl deepened, but she knew it was because their commander’s A-Wing had sustained engine damage already.

“Roger that, we’ll find a way. Somehow. Radie, stay on my wing this time okay?”

“I’m with you, Dors.”

Good. Now I need to find a way through this. Dorset glanced around, saw a white tendril cloud at her three-o’clock that had been stationary bounce up suddenly, and smiled.

“On my command, roll inverted and then kill your engines to glide.”

“What?!”

“Trust me, five seconds… mark!”

Dorset yanked her stick to the left, spinning over as the TIE Interceptors began firing lasers into their shields, and flipped the power cutoff breaker. Radie did the same, despite her confusion.

And then they were being lifted up by an invisible hand as the updraft she’d seen move the cloud reached their position. Dorset kicked power back on at 100 meters higher and blasted away with her swiveling cannons. Between the two of them, four interceptors were destroyed and one was damaged while the leader managed to snake through their fire and vector away.

With the escorts occupied, Commander Mayn and Linna were chewing through the formation of TIE Bombers. Dorset and Radie swung around to cut off their retreat, and Dorset nodded grimly as she joined in opening fire once more. Every one we destroy is less of a threat to Strike. Think of it like that and you’ll sleep better tonight.

***

“All fighters, pull back now!” Atril ordered suddenly over the comm, and the A-Wings veered off as the Star Destroyer’s bow cut through the clouds one klick above them. Banshee spun over on its tail and vectored up to engage, with Strike rising to do the same. The deception was over.

The ISD’s remaining TIEs were entering the fray as well, while the New Republic and Corellian snubfighters climbed to meet them. The Imps had a squadron each of TIE Interceptors and TIE Fighters, plus six heavier ships of an unknown make - Dorset blinked as she gave them another look. They were like Lambda shuttles, but with boxy attachments on the fuselage and two tilted wings sticking out of them. Oh kriff, I saw captured blueprints for these at Gorom…

“Strike and Banshee, double power to your shields now!” Dorset yelled over the comm, jerking her stick to evade the volley of flechette proton torpedoes that raced out. Their yellow exhaust plumes cut through the gray clouds, and Dorset reversed course to dive in after the torpedoes and try to shoot them down with her lasers despite the risk of a second volley to her rear.

Radie was with her, but Commander Mayn was struggling to keep up again and Linna matched Mayn’s speed. They had to dodge soon enough, as the assault bombers opened fire with lasers and ion cannons from behind them. But they managed to take out all but two of the missiles, so their corvettes’ shields held. Harrier had returned and was now battering the ISD’s topside too.

Dorset zoomed downward, leading Radie away rather than into a head-to-head dogfight against the better-armed craft. Alpha Xg-1 Star Wings - that’s what they’re called, Dorset remembered.  

Since their A-Wings could outrun any Imp snubfighter including Squints, they raced back up and fired as they did. But the Star Wings had shields that withstood most of the blasts. Only one had to break off, trailing smoke from a tear in its reinforced hull after Dorset got a torpedo through.

Damnit, that would have crippled an X-Wing and could probably kill my fighter. It’s just going to land for repairs - how strong is that armor? Dorset wondered as she rolled her A-Wing over and prepped to attack from above this time. But the Wraiths had finally arrived and were exchanging their own volley of proton torpedoes against the heavy bombers. This is our chance.

“Radie - hit as many as you can, their shields have to be focused to the front!” She kicked in the afterburners again and dove at 90 degrees, squeezing the trigger the moment she got a lock so she could move to the next target rapidly. The poor bombers had been caught between two sets of fire, and even with their shields they had to break off the attack rather than risk destruction.

“Nice work,” Mayn told her. “Bad news is my engine’s giving out - I have to land while we have a lull. Dorset, you’re in charge of the flight.”

“Copy that. Linna, form up and standby while we figure out what’s next. Captain Loran, what do you think they’re going to do?” 

The Star Wing bombers had retreated and were regrouping with the eight TIE Interceptors and five TIE Fighters left after that group had tangled with the Corellian V-Wings. Meanwhile Harrier was slugging it out with the Star Destroyer while Ession Strike and Banshee attacked as well. 

“We’ve killed off most of their fighter cover - I expect they’ll land and stay there. And given how much firepower those heavy bombers have, my suggestion is we let them retreat. Have you seen anything like that before?” Face asked.

“Not in person, just data and recordings back at the testing center. It’s a good thing they weren’t mass-produced during the Rebellion days.”

***

Dorset had settled back to watch the firefight between their smaller capital ships and the ISD, as Face said there wasn’t much more their snubfighters could do without using their precious torps and risking crossfire. 

The battle had moved into the furthest reaches of the gas giant’s atmosphere when suddenly a new Star Destroyer appeared out of hyperspace above them. Dorset was angling her A-Wing up to attack before her IFF board updated, showing that this was the New Republic’s Moonshadow.

Their reinforcements had arrived - over five hours ahead of schedule - and Dorset shot a glance over toward Face, suspicious about how he’d recommended holding back to wait.

“Did you know when they’d really get here?”

“Sorry, lieutenant. With all these leaks coming from Delta Source, we had to give everyone an exaggerated number in case it got over to the Imps.”

Dorset wiped the sweat from her brow, scowling even as she understood his logic. I thought we would need a miracle to survive that long. Guess the lie was it.

The Imperial Star Destroyer had taken off with a fresh squadron of X-Wings - tagged as Manta Squadron - chasing it away. The A-Wings and Wraiths were directed to land on Moonshadow, while Atril’s crew cleaned up some debris from a turbolaser strike that had scorched the hangar. 

***

They walked from the Star Destroyer’s hangar to the pilots’ lounge after landing, where small groups were clustered about - many of them looked like they’d just left flight school and some were even younger than that. But the leader of Manta Squadron sat alone, sipping from a mug of lum as if lost in thought. He was a Quarren, his leathery skin the usual orange, but his other hand gripped a holo-projector showing an image of him with a blue-and-green Mon Calamari.

Linna stepped forward, tentatively breaking into his solitude. “Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to extend our thanks for clearing those Imps off our backs. We couldn’t have held much longer.”

“It was our mission,” the Quarren replied dourly, and for a moment Dorset wondered if he had trained under Hobbie Klivian as well. “I was glad to hear your commander landed safely.”

Linna nodded, pressing on despite the matter-of-fact response, and looked toward his still-active holo. “It’s good to see Quarrens and Mon Cals getting along, especially with the Empire stoking divisions across species these days. Are you two close friends, or something more?”

He blinked slowly, sighing as he looked at the projector in his hands and turned it off. “We were.” 

Linna’s wide mouth flipped into a frown almost instantly, her face reddening. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re young,” he told them, his eyes moving from Linna to Dorset in particular, and she winced at the reminder she was two years younger. “I hope you don’t ever understand it.”

“It’s like the whole galaxy was just waiting for the two of you, and then in an instant it’s all gone,” Radie interjected softly, stepping forward. “How the things you enjoyed just become a reminder you’re alone. But you have to go on, because you’re part of her legacy now.”

The Quarren blinked again, his gaze re-appraising. “Yes. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

“We’ll see you back at our quarters,” Dorset told Radie; Linna picked up on the unspoken aspect this time. Time to leave them to their shared grief, and hope we don’t experience it ourselves.

Chapter Text

20

They rotated back to Coruscant after leaving Kemal, waiting for Commander Mayn’s A-Wing to be repaired to flight readiness. The Wraiths went undercover to find out whether Black Sun had struck some deal to help the Imps try and invade Coruscant this time.

Dorset found it weird to be back on her homeworld for a week of downtime while the war raged on across the galaxy, especially since they were losing so many battles. 

Radie nearly got into a barfight with two fleet officers after she heard them saying Bel Iblis had been a coward for sitting out the Rebellion, but at least Dorset and Taryn Clancy managed to pull her away in time and Linna had been on a holocall with Nir rather than going out that night.

When their leave finally ended, Dorset was almost relieved. Even if the war had taken another dark turn, given the Imperials’ multi-pronged strikes at Ando, Filve, Crondre, and Ord Pardron. Once again, it was all a feint to soften up their real target - the agriworld Ukio. 

The damned grand admiral has done it again, but at least Admiral Ackbar was cleared of any wrongdoing and is back in command with Fey’lya’s false apologies.

There were rumors that the Imps had taken Ukio by breaching its planetary shields entirely, though Dorset couldn’t imagine how that could be done. She heard General Cracken’s people were working overtime on determining whether it was true; the last thing the New Republic needed was a panic that drove planets to surrender to the Empire without a shot being fired.

Leia Organa and General Solo had nearly been caught up in the attack at Filve during one of her diplomatic missions, but the Rogues were escorting them. The group got away by using Pash Cracken’s method of securing comm signals developed at Xyquine less than a year ago.

Dorset had heard about it from the Rogues themselves after they returned to Coruscant and stopped in the bar at Sivantlie for a round of celebratory lomin-ale. These days, getting out of another ambush was reason enough to be happy.

“It was like old times at Comkin,” Myn Donos told her as he sipped his ale. “Except I was in an X-Wing, the Falcon was real this time, and the dreadnaughts chasing us were even older.”

Dorset snorted at that, remembering how she’d faced off against two TIE Interceptor squadrons backed up only by the incredibly questionable Falsehood. At least the 181st had been fakes too.

Her memories were interrupted by a clatter behind them, and when she turned Dorset saw that Lieutenant Corran Horn had dropped his mug. He looked confused as to how and why, but then he broke into a smile.

“Something very good just happened,” Corran told the worried onlookers. “I think Leia just had the twins.”

So Organa gave birth to two Force-sensitive babies? That’ll be great in 15 or 20 years - how long does it take to train a Jedi anyway - but right here and now we’re getting beat back all across the galaxy. We’ll be lucky to last a full year at this rate. I don’t see how it’s very good, Corran, but what do I know? Wait - is force sensitivity even passed down genetically?

Dorset glanced back to Myn, raising a bemused eyebrow as she buried her pessimistic thought. “Is that what flying with someone who can use the Force is like? Sudden announcements with no explanation how he knows?”

Myn chuckled. “I guess. With Tyria it was always vague feelings - when she managed to pick up on something at all.”

***

They left Coruscant the following morning, as General Bel Iblis took them and Rogue Squadron to help shore up the defenses at Qat Chrystac. Four days later, the Imperials attacked there too.

Qat Chrystac’s volcanic surface was bad enough, but like many things these days it got worse - the molten lava itself was radioactive. Even Djurmo’s oppressive heat paled in comparison; to eject over the surface here rather than in space would mean slow, certain, and painful death.

They had four MC80B cruisers and the MC80A Orthavan already stationed there, the Rogues, and 15 of the Katana-class dreadnaughts including Harrier and Bel Iblis’ own Peregrine. Facing them were six Imperial Star Destroyers, 25 of the Empire’s captured dreadnaughts and at least one Interdictor cruiser to the rear of the enemy formation.

They were badly outnumbered, and given how spread thin the New Republic was - even with the Corellian ships added to their ranks - no more reinforcements were expected this time. 

It was only a few months ago that we were asking why the Empire didn’t just give up. Now the boot’s on the other foot and we’re having to fight sector by sector, planet by planet, just to hold on to what took years to gain. And usually we lose badly. But we can’t just give in.

The Imps had just taken Woostri as well, and rumor had it they used the same attack through a shield as at Ukio. At least Qat Chrystac was too inhospitable to have planetary shields; its only worth was as a staging area for future attacks on other systems.

Dorset completed her abbreviated preflight checks, now a matter of routine, and launched out of the hangar behind Commander Mayn. Their A-Wings rolled over and dove toward the thickest fighting once again as she wondered how many battles they’d all get through before someone’s luck ran out. At least these were much smaller engagements than the ones against Zsinj.

The Mon Calamari cruisers were doing their best to slow the Star Destroyers’ advance into their lines, while Bel Iblis led his dreadnaught force against their equally matched but more plentiful opponents. Green and red turbolasers crisscrossed through the blackness of space around the planet, a fiery red ball with lines of toxic white clouds rolling over it.

Dorset shuddered before she broke her gaze from Qat Chrystac’s molten surface and focused back on the battle. A daring group of TIE Interceptors were inbound, though their wing panels were bare of any stripes this time. Dorset managed to nail one through the cockpit ball, while Radie lanced fire into the right and left wing struts of a pair who’d been too close to each other. 

These may be clones, but they didn’t get all their training from flash-memories yet. That could be the only silver lining of the day. Or they’re just regular pilots who aren’t as skilled as we are.

Their four A-Wings were holding their own through the battle - as did the Rogues, of course - but Dorset couldn’t say the same for the overmatched fleet. They lost two of the MC80B ships within a few minutes of each other as the Star Destroyers focused on them. Bel Iblis ordered Orthavan to attack the Interdictor cruiser directly, but almost as soon as it neared the dragship two more Victory-class Star Destroyers emerged from hyperspace and began tearing into it.

On the joint comms, Dorset heard Ooryl Qrygg warning Commander Antilles of a squint on his tail and then Koobis “Target” Nu reported eliminating the threat. The Rogues were heading to try and relieve Orthavan after that, but even they would struggle against two Vics and a dragship.

“A-Wings, this is General Bel Iblis. Follow the Rogues’ attack right in and they’ll clear a path.”

Dorset blinked at the order - a highlight to their dire engagement was that jurisdictional friction over who held formal command had been jettisoned - and then glanced toward Radie. Her wingmate flashed a smile and tapped her head. Whatever this is, she knows about it already.

The Rogues had First Flight at the center, with Second and Third flights on their flanks. The A-Wings pulled in so close behind the Rogues’ formation that Dorset had to lower her visor and bring up the canopy tinting to keep from being blinded by their engine glare. This better work, because they don’t seem to know we’re right on their tails.

By her guess, Dorset was just behind Captain Celchu’s X-Wing while Commander Mayn held back from Antilles’ at a more cautious distance. Radie and Linna kept to opposite sides also, with Lyyr Zatoq and Lieutenant Hobbie Klivian in front. 

“Rogue Squadron, this is Bel Iblis. Break off your attack. On my mark, cut 30 degrees to portside… Mark.”

The Rogues swung away, drawing the approaching TIE Fighters away, and Dorset pushed her A-Wing to full afterburners once the path in front of them was clear. They rocketed toward the two Victory-class Star Destroyers, ready to unleash their limited supply of proton torpedoes so the X-Wings would have an easier job when their attack came. For now, Rogue Squadron was working to prevent the TIE Fighters from circling around to attack her group from behind.

Dorset focused on weaving through the Star Destroyers’ defensive fire and targeted their shield generators with two rounds of torpedo volleys, then dove down past their engines to hit sensor relays and fire control towers along the underbelly. Radie stayed with her, spraying blaster shots that cut deep into the upside-down turrets ahead of them.

“Pull back,” Commander Mayn ordered once they zipped out from under the Star Destroyer’s bow. Orthavan - saved by the combined starfighter assault - had recovered enough to take the fight to the two Victory Star Destroyers, crippling one quickly and then rolling under it to attack the Interdictor cruiser next. 

“A-Wings pilots - standby to follow Orthavan like you did the Rogues,” General Bel Iblis ordered them. Dorset checked her torpedo count and waited; soon enough another pair of dreadnaughts dropped out of hyperspace right behind the Mon Cal cruiser. They were turning to target it, and so the A-Wings dove in to strafe their sensor relays while activating their electronic jammers.

Dorset gritted her teeth as she slowed to a near crawl, dropping her nose 90 degrees and firing at the fastest cycle possible. Their lasers flashed red-orange against the shields into a dazzling pattern, and they kept at it as long as possible until defensive fire and TIEs made it too perilous.

It didn’t do much damage, but their run kept the Imperial dreadnaughts blinded for a few critical moments so Orthavan could reach the invaluable Interdictor cruiser, forcing it to power down its gravity wells and retreat.

While this bought the New Republic fleet an escape route, they had still lost the battle. Bel Iblis was leaving Qat Chrystac behind and three of their cruisers were smoking wrecks as well. But they had survived; that would have to be enough for today.

***

Rogue Squadron left with the battered Mon Cal cruisers that had escaped, but the A-Wing pilots stayed aboard Peregrine until General Crespin could find a new use for them. Radie certainly benefited from it, as she secretly caught up with old friends and her father under the guise of cross-training with fellow Corellians. 

Dorset didn’t know exactly how she felt about keeping their secret from Commander Mayn and Linna, but she saw it made her wingmate happy and so that was worth it.

“So, what does Radie think of this Bel Iblis guy?” Linna asked suddenly while Dorset was eating breakfast in Peregrine’s mess hall. She froze and turned, one hand stopping in the air as it held a sugar-encrusted bar of toast halfway to her mouth.

“What do you mean?” Dorset asked before quickly taking a big bite so she’d have an excuse not to respond immediately.

“She’s Corellian, he used to be the senator and led some resistance effort from what I’ve heard. Radie must have talked about it since she keeps doing simulator practice with them now,” Linna said. “Sorry I’ve not been around for downtime lately, Nir and I talk a lot more now since we can only see each other by holo.”

Dorset nodded while she chewed, hoping this would change the subject but not wanting to ask Linna about Nir’s wingmate directly. She’d never let it go if I did.

“How’s that going?” Dorset finally asked with a bit of a smile, since she was entering perilous waters.

“It’s great, aside from the fact that we’re stationed on different ships and there’s no telling when we can meet again,” Linna answered in amusement. “You reconsidering trying it with Owen?”

Dorset glared at her as she took another bite and shook her head. “I can’t handle the distraction, especially not now when the New Republic is getting beat back all over the galaxy.”

“Yeah that makes sense. Nir helps take my mind off all that, though. Just saying.”

Shrugging, Dorset ate the last of her toast bar and pushed the plate away. That arrangement is all well and good, until you find out Nir got shot down one day. Then what would you do?

She didn’t dare say that out loud, though, and had started into the bowl of cream puffs and her second round of caf when Radie arrived to join them. Dorset waved her over, smiling.

“About time - Linna won’t get off my case about Owen again. Back me up, would you?”

Radie chuckled and slid between them, bumping Linna out of the way with her hip.

“Okay, fine,” Linna responded, raising her hands. “We can go back to the original topic anyway. Radie - tell us about this General Bel Iblis we’re detailed to now.” 

Dorset coughed slightly and focused on drinking her caf, looking down at the table as she did.

“I hear he’s a good leader, but of course that comes from the people who served under him for years. They’ve been fighting the Empire and various warlords on their own, without fanfare or recognition from the galaxy as a whole. Did Pash ever tell you about the bounty his father put out for Moff Lankin since the New Republic fleet wouldn’t move against him? Word is Bel Iblis’ people were the ones to finally kill the moff two years ago, without ever claiming their reward,” Radie told Linna evenly as she sipped her caf. “They’ve cleared a lot of threats off our backs.”

Dorset glanced over and saw no traces of suspicion on Linna’s face. She was too youthful for that; her questions were asked to learn more about their current situation rather than to probe into Radie’s past deliberately. Still, Dorset was afraid of joining in their conversation and saying the wrong thing which might give Radie’s secret away. It was likely she’d personally taken part in this mission to kill Moff Lankin, after all. Dorset found the possibility a bit alarming.

Suddenly their breakfast was interrupted by Bel Iblis’ shipwide call to emergency stations.

Chapter Text

21

Radie was first up, even though she had eaten the least, and they hurried to the hangar after a few last sips of caf. The Corellian pilots were awaiting orders as well, rather than taking to their assorted snubfighters. They’d transferred over from Banshee, which was back in the Outer Rim.

The doors opened, revealing a wide field of distant stars. Dorset raised an eyebrow in surprise; usually there would be steady flows of traffic coming to and from the system. But this time, they were alone. It was very peculiar. Things got even stranger when the pilots were given radiation monitors to wear on their wrists. The monitor’s green circles stood out over their black gloves.

“Do you know anything about this?” Dorset asked one of the Corellian pilots she remembered from Banshee, a blond-haired man Radie had called Trell Maghe.

“No, but the general is coming in now. We’ll find out shortly,” he answered.

The pilots gathered around Bel Iblis, and Dorset was reminded how much she, Linna, and Commander Mayn were outsiders to them.

“I just got off the comm with Lando Calrissian - for those of you who don’t know, he’s been the administrator of this mining effort. We’re in the Athega system, currently protected from the star by one of Lando’s shieldships, and his people need to be evacuated. The Imperials left them to die in twenty days after raiding the site for its raw materials.”

Dorset gulped, knowing she’d probably regret getting more information, and raised a hand.

“What do you mean ‘protected from the star,’ sir?” she asked, fidgeting with her wrist monitor.

Bel Iblis activated the projector and received gasps from around the room. The holo showed their dreadnaught traveling in the shadow of a massive ship with a curved nose and thin spine, while the planet tagged as Nkllon was far too close to its star to have survivable conditions.

That explains the radiation monitors, Dorset thought worriedly.

“This should be a simple extraction - once we’re placed behind Nkllon, Peregrine will send as many shuttles as we can to Calrissian’s Nomad City and transport the survivors. There’s about 5,000 right now including wounded, but a small team will stay to get the platform moving again.”

Bel Iblis began handing out shuttle piloting assignments. Most of his people were using assault craft like the one at Kemal. Dorset managed not to act surprised when she was told to fly their YT-2000, but it made sense given her time at Gorom. Linna and Commander Mayn were tasked with traditional Lambda shuttles, while Radie would get to fly her family’s old HWK-290 freighter. 

They were warned to stay inside the shadows of the massive ship protecting Peregrine and the planet itself during their descent. If the radiation monitor turned yellow, it was time to jump out to hyperspace. And if it went red… Dorset had seen what the Krytos virus did to alien species. The last kind of death she’d want was to see her own body breaking down slowly from radiation.

“Are you okay with me flying your ship?” Dorset whispered to Radie. “We can trade, they know I have time in the HWK from our Kuat stealth practice.”

“It’s fine - I trust you.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure it comes back just like it is, not a scratch or anything.”

Radie laughed at that, shaking her head. 

“The ship’s old, Dors, and I’m not a stickler for looks. It has plenty of scars, don’t worry about a few more. They add character. But try not to break anything that important.”

***

Dorset walked into the YT-2000 and was relieved to see that Radie’s childhood possessions had been cleared out of her quarters. They were transporting refugees, after all, so every meter of room available would be needed. Still, it helps explain why Radie didn’t mind me flying as much.

Bel Iblis’ people had even taken out all tables, chairs, and beds to maximize standing room. At least the request for evacuation had been received in time for them to link up with Banshee and transfer over its shuttles and freighters, as well as the additional Corellian pilots.

She settled down into the pilot’s seat, moving it up to match her smaller frame, and began the freighter’s startup sequence of flipping power switches and turning dials. Its repulsorlifts kicked on, lifting the ship up three meters, and Dorset eased out and carefully moved for the surface. 

The other ships in the rescue convoy were following suit, but Radie’s HWK-290 pushed ahead daringly and rocked its wings as she passed Dorset. It made sense she would want to lead the group, since she’d flown with them plenty before. And they were in a hurry to rescue the people below from Imperial attack, before more Star Destroyers came back or the star killed them all.

Dorset glanced over at the sensor board, making sure Linna wasn’t competing for lead as well. But the threat of radiation had cowed her and she was staying behind Commander Mayn. With 5,000 people on the ground, this would take seven trips lasting hours. The dreadnaught would be able to hold them all without any problems, though, given its reduced crew size.

By the end of the sixth run, Dorset’s flightsuit was damp with sweat all over - more from stress than the actual heat - and she’d wrung her headband out twice. But her wrist detector was still mostly green. As bitter tasting as the anti-radiation pills were, Dorset couldn’t wait to take one after the rescue operation was over.

She carefully brought the YT-2000 over the landing platform, repeating the steps taken before, and lowered the landing gear as she switched to repulsorlifts. It dropped the remaining few meters and locked into place, and Dorset extended the cargo ramp as well.

Administrator Calrissian - a businessman turned general, who then went back to private industry on multiple ventures of questionable success - walked into the freighter with a resigned look, not the usual swagger Radie had said he held. To his credit, he’d waited until everyone else had left before boarding in the last round. Only a handful remained at this point.

“Willrow - you’re sure that’s the last of them?” Calrissian asked over a comlink, then nodded at the answer and slouched into one of the chairs still in the cockpit area, removing his cape.

“You’ll be on Peregrine in under an hour,” Dorset said as she felt pity for the man. “I’ve heard General Bel Iblis is a man of his word as far as getting heavy lifters out here… though what control he has over fleet assignments on Coruscant is an open question at this point. I’m sure you’ll end up back on your feet regardless.”

Calrissian nodded again, looking around the ship as Dorset lifted off and retracted the gear.

“Thank you, lieutenant…”

“Dorset Konnair, administrator. You may have heard of me from General Solo - I flew escort for the fake Millennium Falcon during the Zsinj hunt. Not that he was willing to go near it.”

Calrissian laughed. “You know Han tried to sell that pile of scrap to me afterward? Said I could turn around and get museums to bid for it. This YT-2000, on the other hand - it looks like it’s in near mint condition, aside from some of the weaponry improvements. You play sabacc much?”

Now it was Dorset’s turn to chuckle derisively. Nice try. My pity doesn’t go that far. Him and Linna in a gambling room together would be nothing but trouble as well.

“Yes, but I know the stories of how you won - and lost - the Falcon. Plus this isn’t my freighter, and I’m sure the owner would want me to say it’s not for trade.” Dorset didn’t add that Radie’s mentor had apparently met Calrissian before, as their last encounter ended acrimoniously.

***

While Peregrine could hold an additional 5,000 people briefly, that wasn’t tenable as a long-term plan and so they shuttled the refugees back over to dedicated transport ships in orbit over Qat Chrystac. The Imps hadn’t sought to hold the planet, but were instead forcing the New Republic to commit an even larger fleet to the area that would inevitably be attacked again. 

That increased the strain on their ships galaxy-wide, and word had already trickled out that Bel Iblis would have a difficult time securing the assault frigate he’d pledged to Calrissian. Naturally his people weren’t predisposed to understanding the pressure fleet command was under now.

But at least they were headed back to Coruscant, and another respite on Sivantlie Base. They’d earned it after weeks of near-constant fighting in the wake of the Katana fleet’s capture. Dorset and Taryn Clancy reunited for drinks at one of the nearby bars, and even managed to pull Linna off her holo-call with Nir. Radie didn’t want to be left behind, so she went out as well.

“You all got to fly freighters during the evacuation?” Taryn asked after she’d heard of the events at Nkllon. “I guess that must be easier after you’ve trained for snubfighters. I don’t mind my ship but it’s hardly built for speed. Maybe someday I’ll go after something better that I own myself.”

Dorset hid a smile - Taryn was more like her father than she knew, not that she wanted to hear about it. Kal was an old smuggler who’d wanted to see his daughter go into the family business and considered her lack of ambition to be a waste of talent. Inevitably that drove them apart, though it provided something Taryn and Dorset connected over. Dorset’s own parents thought flying should only be a hobby and had demanded she find a career to improve their standing. When she refused and enlisted in Starfighter Command, it had severed all ties between them.

“I was only in a standard Imperial shuttle,” Linna said as she pouted slightly. “They got to fly the really cool ships - a YT-2000 and an old HWK-290.”

Dorset shot Radie a nervous glance, but Taryn laughed easily and didn’t take notice of it.

“That’s very Corellian of you, and I knew Dors would try to test out a high-end smuggler ship too if she got the chance. There’s nothing wrong with standard ships though, Linna. I go to work in one every day, and no one tries to shoot at me. I still don’t know how you three handle the war.”

Taryn took a long drink of lomin ale, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “We don’t hear much, but the New Republic government still releases more information than the Empire did. Is it really going as badly as they say? There’s rumors the Imperials can break through shields.”

Radie glanced at the other two pilots, then dropped a few credits for their last round of drinks and stood. “We can’t talk about it here.”

***

“I probably shouldn’t even tell you about this, but given how long you’ve known Dorset… I think we can reasonably assume you’re not Delta Source,” Radie said with a wry expression to show it was an attempt at humor. Dorset forced a laugh, remembering how rattled Command was by the leak. Linna didn’t look thrilled at the topic, but helped keep an eye out for anyone in earshot.

“Anyway, we’ve lost Ukio and Woostri to the Imps punching through planetary shields with one strike. If word gets out in the open, we’ll lose dozens more systems on fear alone. And the fleet is spread thin now, because the Empire can attack from anywhere. They’ve got some tactical genius in command now - another grand admiral,” Radie groused.

“A grand admiral?” Taryn asked, her brow furrowing. “I thought they were all gone.”

“Yeah. Guess that’s what they wanted us to think,” Radie answered as her voice darkened. “Or this one was waiting for five years after the Emperor’s death. Point is, he’s here now and we can’t come up with someone who can outsmart him. Admiral Ackbar and this General Bel Iblis have the best chance of pulling that off, but they were sidelined earlier. I hope it’s not too late.”

Taryn nodded, her face drawn. “I’ve been saving credits - the courier service won’t cover it, but once I get a ship command I’ll buy a backup shield generator and start practicing combat drills in it. This business with Thrawn has delayed them giving out new captaincies.”

She shouldn’t have to worry about that, Dorset thought mournfully. But she has a point. I’ve lost friends before - too many - but they were all combat pilots like me, not some collateral damage. With the way the war is going, though, I can’t rely on the assumption that Coruscant will be safe. 

The group had continued walking, and soon passed below the glittering night-time beauty of the former Imperial palace. Linna stopped, wanting to show it to Nir over holo even though it was past midnight their time and would be the same aboard Swift Liberty. She had drank more than the others at the bar, and Dorset exchanged an amused glance with Radie and Taryn over it.

“Why won’t this kriffing thing activate?” Linna suddenly asked rather loudly as she rebooted the comlink and got no improvement in signal. Dorset shrugged, planning to tell her to keep moving, when Radie suddenly gasped and pulled out two blaster pistols. How many does she have?

“Someone inside is jamming all comm traffic,” she whispered. “Taryn, get Linna back to base now! Dors, you should go too. There’s no telling what’s happening in the Palace.”

“And leave you alone? No way, we’re wingmates on the ground too. I’m sober enough for it.”

Radie scowled, then handed the smaller blaster to Dorset and took a vibroblade out of her boot. 

***

Dorset held the blaster carefully as she followed Radie into the Palace. They should’ve run into at least one guard by now, and their absence seemed to confirm Radie’s suspicions that there was something amiss. Of course the two pilots weren’t wearing standard uniforms - Dorset had on the leather jacket she inherited from Falynn Sandskimmer, while Radie had given her red fur vest to Taryn before they went in and now was dressed in more suitable black attire. 

“Maybe we should leave searching to the professionals,” Dorset whispered after Radie kicked in one door, taking point and sweeping her blaster pistol through every corner of the room before letting Dorset follow her inside. “We don’t know what’s going on, other than comms are down.”

“No,” Radie answered flatly. “Bel Iblis was staying upstairs. If it’s an Imperial attack, either he’s their target or it’s Leia Organa and those twins Corran Horn talked about. And if it’s something like a coup… It’s not too late for you to stay outside if you want, that could be better.”

She’s thinking the comm blackout might be Mon Mothma’s way to make sure she can arrest Bel Iblis without his people in orbit finding out - people like her father. Even though they seem close to mending the divide between them.

Dorset mulled it over, then shook her head. “I’m already in for the micron so we might as well go the whole meter.” 

Given how uncertain the situation was, she could understand Radie’s fear. Hopefully this would just be an Imperial attack - or better yet, a false alarm. 

Radie reached into a pocket of her trousers and produced two scraps of orange cloth, tying one each around their right upper arms. It would mark them as friendlies, but Dorset didn’t bother to ask whether that applied for all New Republic guards or just Bel Iblis’ group.

Then the blaster fire began, echoing from a level above them. Radie listened for a moment, then cursed and hurried over to a specific point in the wall made of metal rather than stone. Powering her vibroblade on, she began to cut into the seam and pulled at the metal panel until it gave way and revealed a small room with racks of blasters, body armor, and explosives.

Radie grabbed the nearest A280C rifle and checked its charge, then removed the knuckle-guard from her vibroblade and attached it under the barrel. She pulled on a combat vest after that, and loaded it down with power packs, explosives, and smoke grenades. Slipping the knuckle-guard over her left hand, Radie powered on both the vibroblade and the blaster’s side-mounted light, then slung a Rodian-built heavy carbine on her left shoulder and hooked her pistol to a lanyard.

“Which blaster should I take?” Dorset asked, looking around at the small chamber that still had plenty of supplies left over. Radie glanced over, her expression a conflicted mix of trepidation and pride, then pulled down a pair of armor vests in medium and large along with another A280.

Dorset put the two vests on since they were increasing sizes, then took the chemical mask she was given by Radie. They checked their comm sets and put on helmets next, moving quickly as the blaster fire increased in volume and intensity on the floor above them. 

Glancing at her A280 rifle after that, Dorset was surprised to see it set to stun - and even more surprised when Radie stopped her from changing it. 

“If this is an Imperial attack, they’re probably wearing stolen uniforms,” Radie explained. “Grab that medical case and bring it - we may be facing a chemical agent like Fex-M3 or Yerite here.”

Dorset did as she was told, carefully holding her rifle in a one-handed grip as Radie led the way with her A280C and its vibroblade attachment in a ready position. Other types of blaster shots were now audible - pistol fire, from the sound of it. Radie suddenly held up a fist as they passed a supply closet half-concealed by a tapestry, and Dorset sank to a crouch by reflex.

“What is it?” she asked in confusion.

“This is as far as you go,” Radie answered grimly before opening the closet door and pushing Dorset inside it. Her movements were gentle, but the look in Radie’s brown eyes - about the only part of her visible beneath the armor and mask - said this wasn’t a time for Dorset to argue.

“They’ve got heavy weapons chipping away at a door up there. Must be the Imps, because it’s where Organa and Solo live with their kids. This isn’t your fight, Dors. That’s why I gave you a blaster set to stun - your job is to stay put and spray anyone who opens the door. Unless I come back and knock three times first, or they manage to restore comms and sound the all clear.”

“Okay,” Dorset answered shakily as the reality of it all set in. The Imps had gotten commandos to the New Republic’s central building itself, and there was no telling who was left to fight them. 

Radie flashed a reassuring smile - Dorset couldn’t see her mouth, but she recognized warmth in her brown eyes. Then she dragged a cart full of heavy coats in front of Dorset, hiding her from view, and closed the door. Dorset heard her steps fade away, and then there was only silence.

***

It took less than 10 minutes before the building’s comm system reactivated to let everyone know the danger had passed, but to Dorset it felt like an hour. She set the blaster rifle aside, gingerly climbing to her feet from a crouched position, and stretched in the dark. Then Dorset squeezed her eyes shut and opened the door, stumbling her way back out into the light. It was a glaring red tint, as the emergency alarms had finally been activated.

Security guards ran in all directions, and she had to show her Starfighter Command ID cards to four sets of officers as the night wore on. The building itself was still locked down, so she called Taryn to give an update on her situation and waited for Radie to return. I’m sure she’s all right.

Dorset was sitting down when another group of security personnel marched out of an adjoining section and down the hallway she was in. They had their blasters in hand, rather than slung. 

And then Dorset froze, her jaw dropping in shock. Given the number of troops, she couldn’t see much beyond the fact that a woman in dark clothes with flame-red hair was at the center of the group - with her hands shackled in back. And Dorset recognized General Bel Iblis among them as well. It wasn’t as clear that he’d also been arrested, but that seemed the most likely scenario.

Kriffing stars - they figured out what Radie had been up to and it really blew up in Bel Iblis’ face. If they’re being locked up, I have to get out of here now before they send people after me.

Dorset glanced down at the blaster pistol Radie had given her, feeling the metal handle against her fingers. There was no way she could engage even two trained guards in a shootout, to say nothing of the twenty leading Radie and Bel Iblis away. Not without the A280 rifle she’d left in the closet. So she tucked the pistol in the waistband of her trousers and zipped up her leather jacket, turning away and moving down the hall at a pace she hoped wouldn’t raise suspicion.

First off I have to hide this kriffing tattoo, Dorset thought to herself. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel the nervous sweating begin at the top of her head, the nape of her neck, and all down her front. She grabbed an emergency medpack from the wall-mounted box and unrolled a bandage, wrapping it wide over her eye to cover the surrounding star-flare ink.

I may look even worse than that bounty hunter Dengar now, but at least I’ll attract attention for other reasons. Next I have to get to a bank and pull all the credits I’ve got before they lock down my account. They’ll have an all systems alert on me by dawn.

Tears started to roll down Dorset’s cheeks at the thought. She’d never see her A-Wing again, or get to explain to Linna and Commander Mayn what had happened. All her possessions were at New Republic bases, either here or on Gorom. Dorset’s old Delta-6 Sprite was in storage at one of the spaceports, but she cursed herself for never getting around to installing a hyperdrive on it. 

The life she’d spent years building - and dreamed of as long as she could remember - was over.

My only chance is to buy passage from here to the Outer Rim; maybe I can find someone there I know who will take pity on me. I’ll have to find work and lodging on the fringe, and it’ll probably take years before I can afford a ship to fly again. Unless I can link up with Taryn to get a delivery job like she has. It’s all because I didn’t turn in Radie when I had the chance, like she wanted. I won’t even get to find out whether there could have been something long-term with Owen.

Dorset wiped at her eye and picked up the pace, rounding a corner and keeping her head low. The Grand Corridor’s entrance was just 100 meters ahead; from there it would be a five minute speeder-taxi ride to the nearest bank. At least she’d kept the bag that held the medpack.

There were a pair of footsteps behind her, increasing in speed, and Dorset unzipped her jacket while on the move, wrapping a hand around the handle of Radie’s blaster-

“Hold up, Dors! What happened to your head?” 

Dorset froze at the familiar raspy voice, then turned around with the blaster in hand.

“Radie!? What the kriff are you- Where were- How…” Dorset gave up trying to ask the different questions at once and let the blaster fall, using both arms to pull Radie into a hug instead. She had taken off and returned the armor, mask, and borrowed weapons, having not even gone into action before the Imperial commandos were neutralized by actual security personnel. 

“I was looking all over for you,” Radie muttered. “Did you hit your head on something? Let’s get you to the medical wing so they can check you for a concussion. Who put those on you?”

Dorset blinked in confusion, then pulled the bandages off her head and picked up the blaster.

“I’m fine - it looked like you and Bel Iblis got arrested so I was trying to sneak out of here before the guards came after me,” she said ruefully, mopping at her brow with the balled-up bandages and shuddering slightly. “I thought I had to leave everything and everyone behind and take off for the Outer Rim. That I’d be restarting my flying from scratch out there on the fringe.”

Unable to maintain composure any longer, Dorset burrowed her face against the top of Radie’s shoulder and sobbed as it all spilled out. She could tell Radie was taken aback at first, but then she began to run a hand through her tangled, sweat-streaked hair and rub her back gently.

“It wasn’t me - they were arresting the woman who let the infiltrators in. Organa thought she was an ex-Imperial agent, but that was too favorable a view of her past. Snow leopards don’t change their spots… usually anyway,” Radie added in a bleak tone, taking her pistol and reholstering it. 

Dorset lifted her head up and nodded as she brushed the remaining tears away and let Radie guide her over to a bench in front of the red-striped trees at the other end of the corridor.

“Now I guess I know what you had to be ready for ever since joining the New Republic.”

Radie’s expression shattered at the remark, but she gave Dorset another pat on the back then closed her eyes for a moment with a sigh.

“This happening - it’s all my fault. I should’ve never put you in a position between me and the rest of the group, so it ends right now. I’ll tell Mayn everything except that you knew about it.”

Radie started to turn around, but Dorset grabbed at her forearm desperately. 

“Please don’t! Everything is still too uncertain at the command level, this could be too damaging right now. I’ll manage,” she said with a bit of a smile. “I need you on my wing, Radie.”

“Okay, I’ll wait until the time is right. But I promise you won’t have to keep this secret forever.”

Chapter Text

22

Four days after the attack, Dorset was in a meeting with Radie and General Bel Iblis himself. It was strange, especially since she was still a New Republic pilot and the Corellians remained a separate force, but Radie had asked her to be there specifically because of their Kuat mission.

“I’ll loan you two DP20 attack ships,” the general was telling a Duros in smuggler’s clothes, seen by holo at the center of the room. “But I need at least one back - and preferably both, of course.”

“We’ll be as careful as possible,” the Duros replied. “I’ll be using my own crews, after all. Mazzic was thinking a two-pronged assault, with his ships striking first and then I bring in the gunships.”

Bel Iblis nodded, studying a representation of the vessels involved via the next holo-board over. They included six different freighters of various makes, their specifications noting that they had been armed beyond standard or even legal amounts.

“And he’ll still think this is a fully independent effort?” Bel Iblis asked after the moment of review.

The Duros - a bit of datastream identified him as Ellor - nodded. “Yes. There’s talk of a smuggler alliance, but I don’t know how ready the others are to work outright with the New Republic. Then again, you’re technically not the New Republic either.”

Bel Iblis chuckled at that, and Dorset felt her face redden slightly. Also in the room were Radie’s father and a woman with dark hair and violet eyes who stepped up to speak as well.

“We are not - but we all have a shared enemy,” she said. “The war has brought us all together."

They began the combat simulation again, and some of the Corellian pilots formed a half-ring to see it more closely. Radie took up a position as well, gesturing for Dorset to follow. So she did, feeling very self-conscious in her powder-blue New Republic flightsuit. 

The heavily-armed freighters opened fire on a Star Destroyer under construction, drawing TIEs in their direction. Then the Corellian gunships streaked out of hyperspace to take them out and provide the freighters with an escape vector. It was rather similar to Bel Iblis’ slash maneuver.

“This looks good to me,” one of Bel Iblis’ pilots said as he examined the gunships’ entry route. His name was Trell Maghe, Dorset remembered, and Radie whispered that the woman who’d talked about Thrawn being their shared enemy was Sena Midanyl.

“Lieutenant Konnair, your thoughts?” Sena asked, her violet eyes shifting toward Dorset directly.

Dorset gulped as she felt everyone else in the room looking at her and waiting for a response. 

“The attack plan appears basic enough - I assume smugglers won’t spend as much time drilling on it? Staging the initial strike force inside the shipyard and then bringing in reinforcements is how we captured Kuat… but I don’t think I’m authorized to discuss that with you further. Sir.”

Dorset stepped back when she was done, feeling sweat roll down her spine. Bel Iblis’ people  already knew about the stealth attack at Kuat since Radie had even told them how to replicate the sensor-deflecting material required for it, but Dorset had her own military oath to maintain.

Bel Iblis nodded to her, and Dorset hoped it was a favorable gesture - especially since he asked everyone else to clear the room a moment later, including Radie. Only Sena Midanyl remained.

Dorset stiffened to attention out of reflex, even though Bel Iblis wasn’t in her command structure. Everything would be so much simpler if he were, she thought.

“As you were, lieutenant. I wanted to apologize for the position you’ve been placed in, especially after the recent attack on the Palace here and how that was initially misinterpreted,” he told her. 

“Radie told you about that?” Dorset asked, disgruntled that the Corellians might know how she’d broken down afterward in fear. I thought Radie was done writing about me in reports. Guess not.

The general blinked, then shook his head. “She only said you wanted to maintain her secret, but were having difficulty doing so. Radie wanted to make sure you still knew you’d have a place here if it came to that, but I doubt it will. Mon Mothma and I just have a few remaining hurdles to cross; I have no intention of fighting her New Republic in open conflict now.”

Dorset nodded, relieved that Radie had only told them the bare minimum after all. But she still missed the certainty of just being a starfighter jockey, with no worries about political intrigue.

***

The four A-Wing pilots stayed on Coruscant after that, as General Crespin struggled to find uses for them amid the fluid nature of the current war they were losing. He’d find a squadron needing experienced pilots, then learn its sector or area base had just fallen to the Empire. Ession Strike was still undergoing maintenance to repair the damage taken at Kemal, leaving them unable to resume the rapid response force - not that it would be very effective given the Imperial pace. 

So they waited as part of the Home Guard, on the off chance there was another Imp incursion. General Bel Iblis had sent his field ops people to fight in places Dorset didn’t know and didn’t want to know, but that meant Radie was even more desperate to get back into combat herself. 

Especially since the Home Guard ultimately answered to Admiral Hiram Drayson, who Radie hated with a passion born of her ties to Bel Iblis and strengthened by his failures at Xyquine. If she kept ranting to them about that, it would be much harder to keep her past secret from Linna.

They were suiting up for another round of tracking inbound ships for possible course deviations when the alarm klaxons began. They were at one of the orbital stations, and quickly hopped into their A-Wings for scramble takeoff. 

“Kriffing finally we see action,” Radie growled on her private comm to Dorset as they completed startup checks and lifted off on repulsorlifts, then shot out of the hangar on full afterburner. The Interdictor cruisers were arrayed along the major hyperspace vectors - Dorset counted five, but sensors indicated there were at least three more. Based on the Imperial tactics at Qat Chrystac, they would use their gravity wells to draw additional ships from hyperspace any moment now. 

Another pair of Interdictors made up the next wave, guarded by Katana dreadnaughts. Before the A-Wing pilots could receive orders, two battle groups of three Star Destroyers each jumped in and began to head for the nearest Golan defense stations. TIE Fighters launched as they did, and Commander Mayn led the group toward the largest formation of eyeballs.

“A-Wings, you are ordered to hold,” someone in ground control cut in. “Wait for reinforcements.”

“Command, request confirmation? If we move now we can set up a picket screen for the relay station before they get there,” Commander Mayn responded.

“Orders are from Admiral Drayson,” the man replied; his voice showed he wasn’t happy about it.

“That lizard-brained bastard…” Radie grumbled over the squadron comm, as Dorset paled. She could understand the sentiment, but saying it in the open didn’t do them any good.

“Shut up, Felian!” Mayn snapped. “I’m going to try to raise General Crespin, do not engage.”

“Losing transmission,” Radie answered amid the telltale sign of comm static - generated by flight gloves being rubbed together on the mic, of course. “Said… engage? …'ttacking.”

Her A-Wing rocketed impudently toward the main TIE group, even as the relay station caught on fire from within, and Mayn swore over the comm herself. 

“Dorset, go cover her six and try to keep her alive.”

***

Pushing her engine as far as it would go, Dorset raced to catch up to Radie’s A-Wing. At least she had throttled back to make that possible. The two were reunited in time to engage the first wave of TIE Fighters together as laser blasts filled the space between the opposing groups. The A-Wings had to weave through concentrated fire, but they were more nimble and the Imperials’ numbers provided more targets to shoot. Dorset and Radie claimed nine in the first pass alone.

Rolling her interceptor after they completed their run, Dorset sighed at the scorch marks dotting Radie’s A-Wing from near misses. She’d charged headlong into the TIEs, vaping more of them than Dorset had - six compared to three - but it came at a cost that would only grow if repeated.  

“Radie, you’re not flying an R-41 that can take this damage any more,” Dorset said on a private comm channel. “And we’re not on the ground where you need to stash me away and fight alone. Let’s take the next run together, okay? I already lost one friend who was mad at half the galaxy and died pulling a damned fool maneuver at Ession. Don’t you do it too, please.”

“Copy that,” Radie answered, sounding very tired now. But at least she’s got control of herself.

Two more Star Destroyers - they appeared to be Victory-class - burst out of hyperspace behind the latest Interdictor cruisers and then ripped into the closest Golan orbital station, knocking out its shields and then destroying it.

More evidence Drayson can’t keep up with Thrawn, Dorset thought to herself without verbalizing it over the comm. Even I knew they would bring in ships there.

A pair of the Corellian dreadnaughts had been in a forward position ahead of the defensive line. It left them exposed, but they’d begun to withdraw once the danger became clear.

“A-Wings, good work cutting through those TIEs but you need to fall back to the secondary area as well,” the ground controller told them. “By order of defense commander General Bel Iblis.” 

Radie let out a whooping cheer over their direct comm line, all her earlier frustrations forgotten instantly. Whatever was going on around them with the Imperial attack had brought Bel Iblis fully back into the fold. Now it was time to survive the continuing battle and hope for reinforcements. 

The dreadnaught Harrier was pulling back, and Dorset listened as Bel Iblis reflexively called the Rogues “Red Squadron” - a product of his time in the Rebellion, most likely. They were fending off another pack of TIE Interceptors, like the squints battling the A-Wings at the moment.

Dorset watched as the TIE in front of her tried to twist out of the way of her fire and succeeded with most of it, until a wide shot chewed through its left solar panel and sent it spiraling away. A second one was on her tail, but she had shields and greater speed to negate its blaster shots.

Rolling into a steep turn the squint couldn’t match, Dorset watched it arc past and jerked her stick down to bring the nose over. A quick squeeze of the trigger later and the TIE was gone.

Two more kill markers to paint on the board, she thought. Better them than any of us.

The Imperial fleet was holding back out of range of Coruscant’s ion cannons - though Drayson had ordered them to take a shot anyway. It was another reason he deserved to be replaced. At least the Imps weren’t here to mount a full ground invasion like she’d feared at the first klaxons.

Dorset glanced down at her sensor board and saw the Star Destroyer Death’s Head launching something by tractor beam. Maybe they were trying to slingshot out TIE Interceptors at greater speed? But no target appeared on the board as a result. What the kriff? Oh sithspit.

The realization sent a chill down her spine moments before their cloaked vessel hit the escort frigate Evanrue and sent it spinning, drive gases pluming out as if it were a comet. Harrier engaged a second cloaked target with its ion cannons - based on the most likely vector - and then an asteroid appeared in view. The lead Star Destroyer blasted it and the cloaking device into pieces moments later, though, denying the New Republic a chance to study either one.

Then the Imps left, and Dorset was befuddled in their wake. 

***

“Any word on when we can land?” Dorset asked, twisting her head as they circled around for the fifteenth time - still in orbit over Coruscant. “I could use a shower and a good long stretch, I was expecting to fight invasion forces for hours here. Maybe even days of nonstop sorties.”

“Getting out of that calls for some rhyscate and Whyren’s Reserve,” Radie told them. But Dorset knew the real reason she’d proposed it was because Bel Iblis had officially rejoined the fleet.

“Or something in terms of snacks,” Linna chimed in. “I’m hungry.”

“You didn’t take anything up with you?” Dorset teased, barely stifling her laughter on the comm.

“Well… I did. But then I ate them half an hour ago.”

“I’ll fly down and grab you something fresh from the kitchen in Sivantlie, plus a juicebox. How’s that sound?” Dorset replied with a smile before she wondered why it felt familiar to her. Oh right. Tetengo was complaining about not getting to eat before the Folor evacuation.

She sighed, running a hand over the spot on her bicep where she’d had a pattern of A-Wings added to the existing diamond tattoo - three level, one flying away in tribute to her lost friends. Then Dorset glanced over at her gauges and switched the comm back on.

“If we’re going to be stuck up here much longer, we should probably land at a Golan station to refuel. Maybe they’ll have something for Linna as well.”

“I’ll try to get ahold of General Crespin and see if he can hurry things along,” Commander Mayn told them reluctantly. She didn’t like to use her direct line to the head of Starfighter Command, but this was a desperate time - no one was telling them why Coruscant’s shields had stayed up. 

They waited for six more minutes, wondering what the deal with the cloaked asteroids was and how Bel Iblis had finally settled things with Mon Mothma. At least Drayson had been removed.

“Here’s the deal,” Commander Mayn told them. “The Imps were dropping a bunch of asteroids into orbit. We’re not sure because of the cloaks - it could be as high as three hundred but they think a lot of the tractor launches were fakes. Bottom line is Coruscant has to keep the shields up until we can find and destroy all of them. Almost everyone on the surface is stuck there and they’ll have to find a way to bring in food, other supplies. It’s a siege to bottle up command.”

This is like how Isard tried to keep the New Republic bottled up with the Krytos plague, except much more efficient and less deadly. At least as long as the shields keep asteroids from falling into the surface, that would make Lusankya taking off look minimal in comparison. 

Dorset glanced over at Radie’s A-Wing. After everything Bel Iblis has gone through, he ends up trapped planetside as soon as he joins the New Republic. Well, it could be worse - he and Mon Mothma could still be at odds and stuck together. And Ackbar’s out on a system defense tour. I hope the Rogues didn’t land back on Coruscant - wait, they couldn’t have. The shields were up.

Shaking away the residual confusion, Dorset focused on landing her A-Wing into a designated spot aboard the nearest Golan defense platform. She slid down the side once postflight checks were complete and then began stretches, pulling her arms across her body and squatting down. Dorset turned her head side to side after, extending her hands high in the air until her shoulders popped. Being an A-Wing pilot was fun, but spending hours in a confined cockpit wasn’t great.

***

Commander Mayn sent them off to shower after that, and in Linna’s case find something to eat. To her credit, Linna brought them a few snacks she’d liberated as well - Corellian cream puffs and some slices of crisped bread, plus caf. It was far from ryshcate and Whyren’s, but would have to do until Coruscant’s situation was resolved. At least Radie hadn’t taken that too hard.

They sat around in the mess hall for awhile afterward. Linna had scrounged up a cinnamon roll for herself but refused to share it, even swatting Dorset’s hand down when she made a joking grab toward a stray piece. Radie just shook her head at their foolishness, sipping away on caf. The mess on Coruscant was out of their control, but it was good not to think about any of that.

Eventually Mayn returned though, joined by some of the fleet personnel who brought along cots, pillows, and blankets. Evidently they would be bedding down here for the night. Linna seized the fluffiest of the pillows, insisting that she needed her beauty sleep as the others rolled their eyes.

“Don’t get too much of it,” Mayn warned as she settled onto a cot next to them. “Mission briefing tomorrow at 0830. We’re being redeployed as relief on Linna’s old stomping grounds - Generis.”

Chapter Text

23

Being “redeployed as relief” was a vast underselling of their role, but Commander Mayn hadn’t wanted to worry Linna before she slept. So the truth waited for the morning, when they were done drinking caf to get fully energized for the mission ahead.

“We’re evacuating our people from Generis, and we need your help to do that,” General Carlist Rieekan told them via holo; he was stuck on Coruscant like Bel Iblis. Dorset had never met him, but he’d filled in as head of Starfighter Command until General Crespin took over that posting. A quick glance around the room showed just how many others had been brought in as well, even if most weren’t starfighter pilots. There were a lot of medics, it seemed.

The Wraiths were assembled nearby; Kell was talking to a nondescript-looking man who Dorset didn’t recognize. Mirax Terrik was standing off to the side with the pair of siblings who’d loaned Radie their YT-2000 back just before the first Thrawn rumors emerged. And behind them… she blinked in confusion at the sight of an old friend from the Coruscant hangars and docks.

“The Third Outer Rim Corps has been steadily retreating for the past two months, and are now holed up on Generis,” Rieekan went on. “Worse yet, they’ve been reduced to the comm center and a handful of outposts on the main continent. The Imperials have landed ground forces and, after the most recent battle in orbit, hold control of space as well. We need to get a fleet back in place to cover their evacuation as quickly as possible. Good news is we’ve already assembled the ships for that and they’re here in orbit. The bad news is the troop transports we were going to use are now trapped down here, useless. So we’ll have to make do with what we have left on Generis and the freighters. Their job is to carry as many of the critically wounded out first.”

Stars above, it’s a medical evacuation run? At least I can let Taryn know that freighters like her Ghtroc are still useful to the fleet, once this is all over and we’re back on Coruscant.

Commander Mayn took over next, glancing around at her pilots. “I’ll be the flight group leader until we arrive on Generis. But unfortunately - aside from the Wraiths and their X-Wings - we’re not bringing our own snubfighters with us. We’re taking new A-Wings modified for atmospheric combat; the pilots there need a few replacements as well. Generis has an A-Wing squadron and two X-Wing squadrons, plus a Y-Wing unit from one of the other Outer Rim worlds that’s fallen.”

Linna raised a hand, but to their surprise it wasn’t to gripe about the new A-Wings. “Do you have any information on the casualty list for Ace Squadron? Who’s been hurt, or… or worse?” 

Dorset and Radie exchanged a glance, wordlessly agreeing to check in with her afterward - she would have known any member of Cracken’s squadron who’d been killed. Linna had been in the unit before joining Polearm Squadron two years ago, even if she never made her way back.

Feeling guilty at her initial assumption, Dorset patted Linna on the shoulder while leaning over for a better look at a holo of the A-Wing variant they would be flying. It was painted deep yellow with scarlet camouflage striping to match the Generis forest cover, and had missile rails on its lower fuselage. The local Y-Wings appeared to have more adaptable hardpoints and cannons.

“This won’t be new for the Wraiths - or Lieutenant Felian - but we’ll have to carry blasters and vibroblades during flights on Generis in the event we’re shot down. You will also be assigned packs and bedrolls, in case there aren’t facilities to quarter us in. Any questions?” Mayn said.

“Do we know the enemy troop strength?” Radie asked as she sketched where the New Republic outposts were on a piece of flimsi along with the estimated Imperial positions.

“It’s at least twice what we have there,” General Rieekan answered. “Fortunately they need the comm center intact, or it would’ve been bombarded from orbit weeks ago. You’ll learn more as you arrive - the Imperial attack on Coruscant limited our ability to receive up-to-date messages. They have plenty of food and weapons left over from the other Rim depots, but what the troops need most is medical supplies. Our smuggler detachment will bring that, particularly bacta.”

***

When the briefing was over, Dorset waved to Mirax Terrik and quickly walked over to a bench where another one of the smugglers sat alone. She had almond-brown hair kept back with a band at the front and held in a ponytail, with two lines of beads interwoven on the sides.

“Fen - what brings you here? I thought you didn’t do causes,” Dorset asked good-naturedly.

“I don’t,” the Corellian woman replied. “But Ghits is stuck planetside with this asteroid mess, so I better start raising money for her debts… or to get her out of jail. Besides, it was best I not go to Karrde’s gathering on Trogan: Shada probably isn’t ready to see me again, and I definitely don’t want one of her throwing knives stuck in my neck. No, I’m just going to jump in, deliver the bacta vats, take on some wounded, then leave them at the rendezvous point. And get paid, of course.”

Dorset nodded, taking on a new appreciation for the struggle New Republic officials had gone through when trying to bring smugglers into the fold. 

“It’s good to see you’ve found a place in the cockpit,” Fenig went on - she’d known Dorset since her time hanging around the spaceports as a young teenager. “All without joining the Empire.”

The memory of how she’d considered Imperial enlistment made Dorset’s face burn, even if that had been part of a plan to defect. She glanced around to check if Radie was in earshot, but was surprised not to see her in the room at all. Especially since they were being issued weapons.

Dorset shook her head as looked at the table of E-11 blaster carbines - the type stormtroopers used - and picked one up, feeling the metal grip gingerly. Aside from Radie’s little pistol when Swift Liberty was boarded, she hadn’t fired a blaster since training. Now everyone carried one.

While Mayn had said it was in case of ejection, the situation on the ground looked dire enough that they might have to all fight regardless. That would certainly explain the Wraiths’ presence.

“About the only good thing I can say about those is they’re easy to use,” Radie said from behind as she re-entered the room and scanned the E-11s on the table. “How do I look?”

Dorset blinked once she’d turned around. Radie had cut her flame-red hair to shoulder-length, negating the need for a ponytail, and was wearing a yellow TX-2 flightsuit with New Republic patches transferred over.

“What are you doing?” Dorset whispered. Radie had returned to the appearance - and uniform - from when she was actively in Bel Iblis’ Field Operations Section, and Dorset was worried by it.

“Paying my debt, it’ll be alright.”

Then she stepped a few paces away, so no one would realize they’d talked about it.

“You seem to be out of uniform, Lieutenant. Isn’t that a type the Corellian pilots wear?” Mayn asked as she walked over, her eyes narrowing. Linna and the Wraiths were following as well, Tyria’s gaze flicking from Radie over to Dorset and back again.

Blast it, if she can pick up on a lie through the Force…

“I figured it would be better suited for Generis, and I got a hold of some more while I was away. Commander, since there’s a chance we’re going into ground combat - well, there’s something you should know,” Radie was saying. “I used to fight under Bel Iblis’ command like that. A lot.”

Mayn’s jaw dropped slightly for a moment before she spoke.

“I hope there’s a good reason why you didn’t disclose any of this before,” she told Radie finally.

“Of course. I enlisted to fight for the legitimate galactic government once the New Republic took Coruscant, not to spend my time being questioned by Cracken’s people about the unit I’d left.”

“Your sniper work on Halmad… Face, did she tell you about this?”

The leader of the Wraiths shook his head, and Mayn’s focus turned back around as she looked past Radie. Dorset gulped under her inquisitive stare.

“She only found out about this recently and I asked her to keep it secret,” Radie interjected.

The last part was a lie - and Radie’s continued allegiance to Bel Iblis was being left out too - but it seemed to convince Mayn.

“That’s right, ma’am. Radie told me after Bel Iblis’ appearance at the Katana battle,” Dorset said as she tried to keep any thoughts of deception from her mind. It was close enough to the truth.

“In a different time, you’d be taken off combat status while this was investigated. Right now, we can’t spare losing anyone for the Generis mission. But I don’t like surprises like that,” Mayn said.

Radie apologized, and even managed to make it sound genuine. Dorset was a bit rattled to see just how good she was at lying. Then they fell out of formation, most of the pilots and smugglers going to check their ships - the fleet would be launching shortly. Radie and Dorset were headed that way when Tyria Sarkin intercepted them, her face inscrutable.

“I need a word with both of you,” Tyria said. “It was obvious you weren’t being completely honest just then about what you did for Bel Iblis.”

“Leave Dorset out of this,” Radie snarled back, her hands balling up. “And get the kriff out of my head, Sarkin. I don’t take well to people messing with it. Jedi or not.”

“You misunderstand - I’m just saying that I wouldn’t have stayed in Wraith Squadron without the second chance I received. Don’t make me regret the one I’m giving you two now,” Tyria replied.

Radie was still fuming, but Dorset cut in between them and put a hand on her shoulder warily.

“Thank you,” she told Tyria with a smile after turning back to face her. “You won’t, I promise.”

***

The two still retreated quickly toward the hangar with their new A-Wings, avoiding any further suspicious questioning.

“You could have given me a warning first,” Dorset scolded after a moment.

“If I had, you would have found a way to talk me out of it again,” Radie answered. “It’s done and now we don’t need to worry about it.”

But Linna was waiting by the A-Wings when they reached the hangar. 

She paced awkwardly, as Radie’s confession had reinforced that the two of them didn’t have a strong friendship compared to their respective bonds with Dorset. 

“So - what’s the deal with your hair?” Linna asked, rather than bringing up Radie’s past again. Of course the question was a reminder of what Radie used to do, but she didn’t know about it. 

“In case we have to fight on the ground, this way some stormtrooper can’t grab my ponytail for leverage. Dors and Commander Mayn both have hair like that - you might want to consider it as well. I know you love the curls, but this is temporary and could save your life,” Radie cautioned. She reached into a pocket, taking out cloth headgear woven to cover everything but their faces. 

Linna shrugged, her wide mouth lifting into a bravado-filled smile as she ran a hand through her treasured golden locks in question. “I’ve got a better idea, I’ll just avoid getting shot down.”

Radie bit her lip but didn’t retort back, instead leaving the cloth items out for them as she began looking over the empty hardpoints and camouflage on the nearest A-Wing. 

“There’s other flightsuits like yours, right?” Dorset asked. With over two hours until the mission’s launch time, they would be able to add red stripes and spots to the suits. Radie nodded, so they headed back to the temporary quarters to get to work. Commander Mayn joined in as well, and Radie began walking them through how to paint both the flightsuits and their E-11 blasters.

They had just pulled on the flightsuits and sat down when the alarm klaxons began sounding. A quick glance at the wall chrono showed they should have still had 33 minutes before launch, but Atril Tabanne was ordering everyone to scramble over the intercom. She must have been a late arrival to the fleet they were sending, though her Strike would be useful as a blockade runner.

What the kriff is the emergency now? Dorset wondered as she joined the others in grabbing her blaster, helmet, and flight gear before they took off running for the hangar.

“There’s been another attack at Ketaris,” Face told them as they hurried inside and raced to the A-Wings. “If we wait for the scheduled launch window, we may be rerouted there instead. I don’t want to abandon the Generis units.”

“Me neither,” Commander Mayn replied with a glance toward Linna. “We’ll be ready for takeoff in three minutes. Combat launch procedures, everyone.”

Dorset clambered up the ladder two steps at a time and kicked it aside, giving her system dials and gauges a cursory overview. She was trusting the techs had primed the new A-Wing in full, because there wasn’t time to perform the usual examination it deserved. The interior still had a factory smell, making Dorset miss the familiar blend of sweat and burnt fuel her old one carried. 

It’ll have to do, she thought as the A-Wing lifted off and rocketed away with the others, while the Wraiths trailed in their wake. The sensors showed their formation of larger craft - Mirax’s Pulsar Skate, Ace Azzameen’s Sabra, Aeron’s Otana, Fen’s Star Lady, and Ession Strike - at the rear. Radie’s YT-2000 could have been useful, especially since her secret was out, but it was on her father’s ship far from Coruscant now. There wasn’t time to get the YT-2400 on Gorom either.

They formed up with the fleet - eight Mon Calamari cruisers, three Katana dreadnaughts,  and a set of five Venators which could land on Generis’ surface but were older than Dorset - and made the jump to lightspeed. Voort had completed his mathematical formulas so the fleet would come out of hyperspace in orbit opposite the Imperial ships. Their fighters, freighters, and Venators would be headed down in the atmosphere. 

Normally, the Venators could have carried several hundred starfighters between them - but this was meant to be an evacuation, not providing reinforcements. Most of the hangars were cleared out for people instead, and it would have been hard to find that many spare squadrons since all the Venators had been mothballed previously anyway. The task force had been lucky to find old A-Wings, X-Wings, and Y-Wings to resupply the pilots already on Generis.

Commander Onoma would be leading the ships in orbit from Mon Remonda, while Atril Tabanne was in charge of the landing element. The Venators were captained by hastily promoted junior officers with skeleton crews. It was the best they had, given the chaos down on Coruscant.

Dorset shook her head and hoped for the best as the blue lines swirled around them. Her alarm was set for five minutes before exiting hyperspace, so she curled up against the right side of the cockpit and tried to get some quick sleep. One avian… two avians… three… fo-

We’ve got X-Wings and Y-Wings down on Generis, but it’s too bad we’re not taking B-Wings for the battle in space. They’d be useful against the Imperial fleet there. Plus it would be fun to have those pilots around if we end up sleeping out under the stars like Mayn said we might…

The beeping grew in tone, and Dorset stabbed the button to silence it with a gloved finger. She brushed the grit from her eyes, pushed her hair back, took a quick sip of water then made sure all her systems were functioning properly. New snubfighters are a recipe for malfunctions.

Soon enough the blue lines unfurled and revealed Generis right before them, its yellow ground filling her field of view as they crossed into the atmosphere at full speed. All the freighters were doing a fair job at keeping up since they were modified smugglers’ ships, while the Wraiths had fallen back to escort the Venators. Ession Strike was in the middle and holding its own too.

Dorset scanned for TIEs but saw only cloud cover as they neared where the comm center was, and soon the four A-Wings passed through the haze and billowing smoke to see the base itself. Dorset gasped once she got a clear view of what was below them.

Chapter Text

24

The yellow-colored fields around the base were filled with husks of AT-ATs, Juggernaut wheeled vehicles, and assault speeders. Many were still burning, smoke trailing from a hundred wrecks. At least three X-Wings lay in pieces among the debris, and several TIE Fighters and Bombers had crashed down there as well. Some of the outlying defensive turrets and fortifications were also ablaze, but the shield dome around the base had remained active until their arrival.

“All pilots, land quickly,” Mayn ordered as the freighters, Wraith Squadron, and the Venators had caught up to them. Dust swirled around the Venators as they touched down opposite six GR-75 Gallofree transports in front of the command post. The burned-out bones of two more Gallofrees were still being dragged away by New Republic vehicles, while others were pushing the AT-ATs’ remains into a barrier in front of the redwood forests surrounding a third of the base area.

A small mountain stood behind another third of the base, leaving an exposed area well-suited for snubfighter attack. The ground forces had concentrated most of their anti-air batteries in that direction, while smaller armored vehicles were interspersed between the base and the forests. An array of zig-zagging trenches stood behind the armor formation, allowing troops to reach the turrets without being exposed to enemy fire. That was reminiscent of what Dorset had seen from images of Hoth, but at least the climate here was pleasantly temperate rather than freezing cold.

The base’s fighter squadrons were hidden under durasteel shelters to protect them from attack, and Dorset quickly brought her A-Wing down in one of the vacant spots. Similar blast-hardened buildings provided quarters for the usual garrison, but evacuation of other units from around the Outer Rim had forced many to stay in tents within the perimeter. The headquarters zone stood above it all at the rear of the base: a quartet of buildings with five large comm arrays and three shield generators, plus another that had been disabled and was creased with heavy blaster fire.

Dorset opened her canopy and jumped out, tossing her flight helmet and gloves back inside the A-Wing. Then she gagged at the smell wafting over from the tents - an immediate reminder of her time serving in hospitals during the Krytos crisis. It was the smell of the dying and the dead.

Linna and Commander Mayn both looked on the verge of throwing up, and even Radie seemed unsettled by it. Thankfully a soldier handed them each a scarf to cover their noses and mouths, then told them to hurry up and help move the wounded aboard the freighters. More soldiers had gotten to work unloading the bacta and other medical supplies. The Wraiths hurried past as well, and Dorset ran to keep up with them. But she skidded to a stop upon entering the nearest tent.

When she’d helped out during Krytos, patients had been kept in separate isolation rooms. Here, the medical staff had run out of beds - along with vital bacta - and so most of the wounded sat on the ground or were slumped against each other. Many wore stained, days-old bandages as new ones hadn’t been available either. A number had lost limbs without receiving prosthetics.

Voort had carried in a dozen stretchers under each arm, and they divided up into pairs to carry critically wounded troops out first. That took them past another tent, and even from outside it Dorset could hear soldiers groaning in pain as others tried to comfort them.

“What about that one?” she yelled to a nearby medic over the roar of the Skate’s engines.

“It’s no good!” he called back. “That’s the area for expectant patients.”

Dorset cursed under her breath, having heard that term during Krytos in reference to patients who were too far along for treatment. She’d expected to never encounter it again, since bacta was normally so plentiful. But Generis had been under siege for weeks.

*** 

When it was done, Dorset was somehow glad to see the freighters leave. They’d cleared out the tents and even managed to make room for some of the dying troops, in the hope they might last long enough to reach a medical ship. Now it was time to get ready to defend those who stayed.

Radie waved over a woman with sandy blonde hair pulled back in a bun, wearing a flightsuit and a combat vest instead of the usual one New Republic pilots used. Rather than hard panels, her helmet had cloth over its comm earpieces as well. Must be the pilot for that U-Wing over there.  

“Dors, Linna - this is Lieutenant Catalina Paby, one of the rescue and patrol pilots,” Radie said. “We met during the Corellia op, before everything blew up there. What should we know, Cat?”

The woman took a long sigh, glancing over to where Atril was speaking with base leaders - a dark-haired stocky man in a general’s uniform, a blonde woman in a flightsuit, and the infamous Commander Varth of Typhoon Squadron, joined over holo by a woman in a hover-chair. All four looked unhappy at what they were being told by Atril regarding the relief force’s strength.

“I’m guessing you weren’t able to bring any armored vehicles, or heavy weapons to hold off the Imperials’ replacement walkers?” Catalina replied after a moment. “The Imps threw everything they had at us two days ago, so we’re down to less than 30 hover-tanks and a few hundred portable rocket launchers. You can bet the Imps get replenished within a few days, maximum.”

“I’m afraid not,” Radie answered. “All those vehicles were loaded up in Gallofree transports on Coruscant, but they’re stuck on the surface now - it’s a long story. We threw together the best that was available to get you all out. At least there’s replacement fighters, even if they’re old.”

“Kriff,” Catalina hissed. “There’s no way we can hold Generis now. Best we can do is retreat.”

“What’s the situation as far as the four outposts?” Linna chimed in, turning to the other A-Wing pilots. “There’s three across the Gemarn River here” - she drew a line in the yellow dirt for it with her boot, then sketched the position of each outpost and a bridge connecting them to the fourth one, labeled Outpost Aurek as it was the largest. “They’re about 100 kilometers from here and service there is even more boring than the main base was before the invasion. But they have a dam at the river helping power the secondary receivers for our comm center.”

Catalina shook her head. “You must have been here when times were good. The three outposts across the Gemarn are destroyed; the troops at Aurek are barely hanging on. We’ve been giving them supplies by air - it’s risky. Five nights ago they took the remaining personnel at those three outposts and had them swim across with guide ropes while the moons were blocked by clouds. That shored up the defenses so Aurek could hold out for a few more days. Without any armored reinforcements, we’ll all either be gone, captured, or dead in a week’s time.”

“You said they swam across the river with guide ropes,” Dorset asked, remembering how long it had been since she spent time in a recreational pool. “How did the wounded manage that, given the way things were when we arrived with bacta? Shortages there must have been even worse.”

Catalina looked down for a long moment, and when she faced them again her expression was stricken. 

“They didn’t. We left our wounded to the Imperials; two members of my squadron who had been shot down were still over there. Sector Commander Chan is trapped at Aurek for now as well, so we have to find a way to get her out before everyone leaves. I’ll probably be the one they send for it; our other U-Wing pilots are too green,” she went on with a deep scowl. “There’s one good part of all this - we’re not running low on food or small arms any more. We took in a lot of personnel from other Rim bases, myself included, and rations were a problem for a while.”

Once again, Dorset wondered just what they’d gotten themselves into on Generis - and how it would end.

*** 

Linna was pacing nervously as she watched the A-Wings finally come in to land, and Dorset patted her on the shoulder. It was the third time she’d done that in the last 10 minutes.

After explaining how the battle had been going in recent days, Catalina had remembered to tell them that Ace Squadron had been dispatched on a defensive sortie along what was known as “TIE Alley” - the path between the mountainside and the forest to the right, where snubfighters could best sneak in and attack the base. Catalina had been unable to give Linna an exact count of who was still flying for Ace Squadron, and it had kept her on edge ever since.

The first A-Wing set down and its canopy opened. A man who looked familiar but for his black, close-cut hair got out; he wore a captain’s rank insignia.

“Pash! What happened to your hair?” Linna asked, seemingly incredulous. The man shushed her for a moment, then gave her a quick hug.

“The ground troops know me as Inat Posta, so keep your voice down around them. I dyed my hair in case I get shot down - the Imps would have a field day if they captured me and realized that I’m Airen Cracken’s son. Especially with how I infiltrated and defected from their ranks.”

Linna nodded, stepping closer so the passers-by wouldn’t hear. “That’s sensible. How’s Dena? She’s still an analyst working for your father on Coruscant, right? That’s safer - recent events notwithstanding. I made a friend with a similar name but she got shot down over Tatooine and I haven’t heard any more about recovery efforts.”

“She is doing well, last I heard - information has been scarce since Thrawn’s campaign started. We only just got word of the attacks on Coruscant and Ukio.”

Linna’s eyes suddenly flicked past him to scan the other Ace Squadron pilots anxiously. 

“Pash, where’s Aurora?” Her tone had sped up even more and stress was visible on her face.

“She’s fine,” he answered, gripping both of Linna’s shoulders to steady her. “Just not here - she got re-assigned into a special unit six weeks ago. It’s top secret, I don’t have any more details.”

“Good. She’s probably better off, wherever that is,” Linna replied before turning to Dorset and Radie. “Too bad I can’t fly with her again, though. We were wingmates before my transfer.”

Cracken nodded silently, then glanced over and told them he needed to check in with the other squadron leaders - Commanders Varth and Evaan Verlaine. Linna told them that the latter was the lone Y-Wing pilot who survived the Battle of Yavin after being forced to withdraw, much like Antilles. Her wishbone had limped back to base on one engine, barely clearing the blast radius. After that, Verlaine had been sent out to gather fellow Alderaanians in the Outer Rim worlds for Rebel service. Her group spent much of the war there, keeping the Imperial fleets and then a few warlords occupied by hit-and-fade strikes. It made them well-suited for Generis’ defense.

Linna took a deep breath after finishing her explanation about Verlaine, then closed her eyes for a moment before turning to Radie and Dorset with a melancholy expression.

“Given what Pash did with his, I think you’re right about the benefit of cutting my hair. Could you two help me with that?”

Radie nodded, pulling her into a rare hug and brushing Linna’s golden locks comfortingly. Dorset did the same, mindful of how much Linna valued her hair as opposed to her and Radie.

“I’m sure all the guys will still think you’re prettiest of us three,” Dorset told Linna, smiling at the feel of her and Radie laughing together in response. 

“As long as Nir does,” Linna answered as she squeezed both of them tighter. “I know you don’t put effort into looks but the whole black hair and blue tattoos thing works on Owen, by the way.”

“That’s nice of him,” Dorset tried to deadpan - though her face burned and she couldn’t hide a satisfied grin. Even if she was on Generis and he was far away, probably at another battlefront.

Just stay focused, Dors.

***

Commander Mayn was staying with Linna while Radie trimmed her hair to a length manageable for any ground combat, so Dorset busied herself in passing the word along for the other pilots to compliment her no matter how it looked. One of the soldiers - a burly man with fading brown hair and a regulation beard - made a deliberately overheard remark that the new pilots were a bunch of dilettantes, but she ignored him. Most of the ground troops were still repairing the defenses.

Dorset shook her head and moved on to where the Wraiths sat, intending to ask Tyria for help when one of the Y-Wing pilots approached them as well. He was young, with the sort of tanned appearance common to agri-worlds, and she felt a brief pang at the memory of Tetengo Noor.  

“Hi, I’m Bickey Pellan - Dauntless Two. Is Lara around?” the man asked. Dorset didn’t need the Force to sense the awkward shift in the Wraiths’ expressions as Face got up to answer him.

“She was in my flight training class on Coruscant,” Bickey continued. “Her example - well, it was the inspiration I needed to make it through graduation. I was hoping to thank her since I didn’t get a chance then; she was whisked away to fleet assignment after she got out of the hospital.”

Face nodded, his expression constrained as he motioned for Pellan to sit down. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Lara died fighting Zsinj over a year ago. She saved the lives of Commander Wedge Antilles and Captain Tycho Celchu first, though; I imagine you’ve heard of them.”

Who hasn’t, Dorset thought to herself. Good way of avoiding the whole treason part of Lara’s or Gara’s story, whoever she really was. The kid deserves to keep his opinion of her intact.

 “I didn’t know,” Bickey replied. “Detailed information doesn’t exactly get out here often, since the comm center is more for sending reports back to headquarters. I only just learned that my home planet was captured by the Empire. Are the rumors about a shield-breaking weapon true?”

“It’s a trick,” Face told him. “General Cracken has people working on it around the clock; we had been too before being sent here to help evacuate.”

“Ukio’s too important to be left under Imperial rule,” Dorset added gently. “Trust me, I was raised on Coruscant - the so-called crown jewel of the galaxy. I remember its liberation perfectly.”

Bickey managed a smile. “I spent most of my life wanting to get off Ukio; going to Coruscant for flight training was a dream.”

Dorset snorted a laugh at that. “Sorry. I couldn’t wait to leave and travel the galaxy myself either. But I understand why it would be appealing for your background, my first wingmate grew up on Churba. He bought it at Selaggis too, along with a lot of other good pilots.”

“Yeah. I knew there would be risks when I signed up - but I didn’t think about how that involved other people being in danger,” Bickey said as he ran a hand through his brown hair. “It’s all still new to me. At least I’m used to living off the land with how we’ve been moving between worlds.”

“I remember that stage of being just out of training. You’ll get through it; Commander Verlaine is one of the longest-serving New Republic pilots when you don’t count defectors’ Imperial period,” Dorset told him as she patted his shoulder reassuringly. I wonder if he knows about how squad leaders pick the least experienced pilot as their wingmate so they hopefully live longer.

The alarm klaxons blared to life before they could say anything more, and pilots across the base began pulling on their flight gear and racing to the fighters. Radie, Commander Mayn, and Linna - her hair still golden and curly but trimmed roughly at collar length now - came running from the left. Radie pulled her hair back into one of her cloth caps and tossed one to Dorset as well.

Gathering her own unruly black hair into the cap, Dorset unrolled it down her head and lined its ear holes up with her flight helmet and comm set. The cloth cap was a different thing to wear for flying, but from what Radie said it would be worth it if someone was shot down and had to fight on the ground. With luck, they would never know for sure.

“All pilots - early warning sensors picked up an incoming pair of TIE Interceptors, they’re almost right on top of us,” Atril Tabanne said over the comm. “A-Wings, take point. Y-Wings stay back under the shield until given further instruction. Face, have your group do as you see fit.”

The TIE Interceptors streaked across the field at low level and swung out past the shield, likely to collect and transmit sensor data on the new defenses. For a moment Dorset thought they had been sent on a sacrificial mission, but then she saw the bone-chilling red stripes on their wings.

Ah kriff.

***

Dorset had gone up against 181st pilots before, but this pair were even better than she’d feared. They had managed to hold their own against a dozen A-Wings for over three minutes now, but Pash Cracken managed to split them up and Ace Squadron’s sustained fire kept the two apart. Commander Mayn led her three pilots after the enemy leader, while Pash and his group focused on the wingman. Two of the Ace Squadron pilots had already been forced to eject during their battle, but at least there were new A-Wings brought over from Coruscant as replacements.

The enemy wingpair had flown with such coordination that Mayn initially pondered if they might be a human and droid group like Zsinj’s flying bombs at Selaggis, but the responding attempt to jam any transmissions proved unsuccessful. In fact it had done more harm than good, since the two Imperial pilots seemed to move in tandem through shared experience without any comms.

Even alone, the Imps were capable of both offense and defense. The interceptor they chased had corkscrewed hard, forcing Mayn and Linna to overshoot, and then dropped on their tails while Radie and Dorset fired ineffectually. The enemy pilot was just too damn good to hit, and they didn’t want to risk an errant shot clipping their friends either. 

Dorset suddenly had an inkling of who they might be facing, and felt her heart rate pick up within her chest. Stars no. How would we deal with that?

“Radie - stay on him. Commander, can you try to swing around toward the gun batteries back to the right? I have a plan.” Dorset heard their affirmative, then jerked the stick too far over and felt her A-Wing skid away toward the forest as if out of control. She fired a torpedo while she dipped out of sight, providing the cover to simulate a crash. Then Dorset landed her A-Wing roughly by the billowing cloud of smoke, swiveled her blasters up, and waited.

As requested, Mayn and Linna looped back around with the TIE Interceptor hot on their heels. It broke away at the last moment rather than following them into range of the anti-air batteries, but not before a parting burst of fire from the squint ripped through the engines on Mayn’s A-Wing. 

Dorset’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the A-Wing rapidly break apart, but she let it go at the sight of a successful ejection. Then the TIE Interceptor rolled into her scope while she squeezed the trigger down as quickly as she could. Enough of her shots scored home, and the squint dropped from the sky gracelessly to carve a furrow into the ground before her.

Linna had landed to attend to Commander Mayn, so Radie touched down and climbed out to look over the wrecked TIE Interceptor before Dorset got there. She was personally checking it for any hidden explosives, of course, and to make sure the pilot wasn’t waiting to attack.

“Dors, get over here!” Radie shouted over the comm a few moments later, sounding exhilarated. “You too, commander, if you’re feeling alright - and bring Linna. You all need to see this.” 

Dorset jogged over once she’d removed her helmet and cloth cap, running a hand through her hair as she approached the wreckage. Radie was sitting on part of the crumpled wing panel with the TIE pilot’s body at her feet, smiling broadly. The stocky man had black hair and a goatee…

She had wondered about it when they were fighting, but now that the proof was before them she felt a mix of emotions - relief, more than anything; a bit of accomplishment, of course - but also a sense of guilt at her own resulting pride. His long scourge of dead Rebel pilots is over, Dorset thought with a dash of firm resolve as she stepped back to lean against what was left of the ball cockpit and took a series of deep breaths.

Radie, on the other hand, had no recriminations. She scooped Dorset up in a tight hug, kissing her cheek and letting out a triumphant whoop once Linna and Commander Mayn reached them and saw the body of Baron Soontir Fel as well. 

Linna ruffled Dorset’s hair in congratulations, while Mayn - her head now bandaged - simply shook hands in a more professional manner. 

“A lot of future New Republic pilots will be alive because of what you did today,” she told Dorset. “I’m first among them. Thank you.”

Unable to find the words to respond, Dorset simply nodded and then broke into a smile of her own. Other pilots had begun to wander over to see what this was about, and suddenly Radie and Linna were both hoisting Dorset aloft on their shoulders, chanting that Fel was dead.

But to their surprise, the other Ace Squadron members had a very muted reaction and looked at each other awkwardly after a few moments. Then the burly soldier from before pushed through, glaring at the excitable display in front of him.

“You have no idea what these battles are actually like, do you?” the man growled before shifting to Outer Rim slang that included “Coruscanti.” Dorset didn’t understand the rest but felt Radie’s shoulder tensing underneath her. Hastily sliding down, she whispered for Radie to just let it go.

“He called you-” Radie started to mutter, scowling, but was interrupted by the man continuing to press his luck. The other pilots had gathered around, though they were joined by a significant number of soldiers so it wasn’t clear who’d win if this exchange set off a brawl between them. 

“That wasn’t the real Fel, you kriffing idiots. It was just another Imp clone of him,” the man said. 

The four A-Wing pilots’ jaws dropped in unison, at first shocked and then horrified. 

“Pa- Posta, is that true?” Linna asked Cracken, her face white. 

“I’m afraid so. I already shot down one of the Fel’s during the massed assault two days ago, and it was the hardest dogfight I’ve ever been in. The other pilot today was likely a Phennir clone.”

Dorset felt sick at his words - she was inclined to agree with her own recent experience, even if it had been brief. They’d nearly lost Commander Mayn in the process, and it might be repeated again and again before the evacuation was complete.

Chapter Text

25

“So what’s the deal with that mudscuffer in Third Corps?” Dorset asked Catalina as they both worked on U-Wing maintenance. She wasn’t as familiar with the utility craft, but an engine was an engine - whether it was made by Incom, Koensayr, or Kuat Systems Engineering. And this helped calm her down after the realization that Thrawn could clone not just any troops and pilots, but his best ones.

“You mean Hencs, the big guy with a first Death Star-sized chip on his shoulder about pilots?” Catalina responded with a slight frown while she picked up a smaller hydrospanner. “During a retreat from Ord Biniir last month, Hencs and his squad commandeered some Imperial tanks while they were headed back to the evacuation zone. One of the local Z-95 squadrons flew by, and - well, maybe they could’ve done more to fix the IFF; maybe the pilots should have paid attention to the convoy including both New Republic and Imperial vehicles. Either way, the end result was over half of Hencs’ unit were killed by friendly fire. He’s been looking to quarrel with us pilots ever since for any reason he can. Add that little celebration to the mix, and how all of the people here know someone who’s been captured or killed… it rubbed more than a few of them the wrong way. I don’t blame you, though. I should’ve thought to tell you about the clones.”

Dorset nodded glumly, still feeling chagrined by Linna and Radie’s extravagant display and a bit understanding of why the soldiers had looked at them with disdain. It had seemed like a historic victory for their side, but now it didn’t even matter if that had been the real Fel. There would still be others, just as lethal. Maybe even more so if they learned from their predecessors’ deaths.

Commander Mayn had gone off to the medical tent to get her head examined for a concussion, while Linna was chatting with Pash Cracken. Radie had taken to throwing her blade into a tree.

“But don’t worry about some miscommunication like that happening on your missions,” Catalina was saying as she pointed to a brown-haired man walking over to them. He wore soldier’s gear, but had the same type of headset as the U-Wing pilots. “That’s Mesqi, he’s in charge of helping starfighter runs when ground troops are in close combat. And he’s worked with the Wraiths too.”

Dorset introduced herself to him and glanced around for Hencs, intending to settle their dispute and apologize, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Linna waved her and Radie over to a pair of the other Ace Squadron pilots shortly after that, and they jogged over to greet the two.

“Dors, Radie - this is Lieutenant Heath Jalle, leader of Second Flight, and his wingman Thatch Docen. It looks like we’ll be the new Fourth Flight, but I used to be in Second as well.”

Each pair exchanged pleasantries about their home planets - Jalle grew up on Fondor while Docen hailed from the seedy Outer Rim world of Molavar. Both had been among the first batch of pilots enlisting after Endor and were 23 like Linna. Overall, the pilots on Generis ranged in age from not-yet-20 like Bickey Pellan to somewhere in their thirties like Commanders Varth and Verlaine. But none of them were rookies, not any more. They weren’t just pilots any more either - a quick glance around the field showed the Wraiths and that other group of soldiers who’d come with them training Varth’s unit in both hand-to-hand and small arms combat.

“Have you guys gone through that?” Dorset asked them, knowing she and Linna hadn’t yet and Radie wouldn’t need to. In fact - if the Wraiths were busy - Radie could teach them. It would give her something productive to do, as she’d taken the news about Fel hard. Since he was Corellian by birth, Radie was especially furious that Fel had switched sides twice and wanted him dead.

There was also the possibility - at least under Dorset’s limited knowledge of Corellian naming conventions - that Radie was a distant relative of Fel through her mother’s side. She certainly had reacted violently when that implication was made in crude fashion back at Folor Base.

The clones meant Radie could fulfill her wish personally, but Dorset wasn’t sure that would be very good for her in the long run. It was the sort of thinking Commander Antilles and even Radie herself had warned against. Frowning, Dorset asked for her to help teach them ground combat.

Hopefully providing us with the skills we need to survive will be enough to distract her from the rage, Dorset thought to herself.

She put them through a crash course, starting with the best way to handle and aim their pistols, where to stab at the gaps in stormtrooper armor for maximum effect, and how to leverage their full weight into a punch or kick. Generis had temperate weather, but they all worked up a sweat by the time Radie’s instruction was done.

Wringing her headband out, Dorset wandered over to where the Wraiths were teaching Varth’s pilots how to throw grenades and fire anti-armor rocket launchers. So much for this being about how to fight after ejection, we don’t carry high explosives. What’s going on? Kell was checking other equipment while Voort managed the practice, so she waved and walked over to him.

“You handle demolitions for the Wraiths, right - can you fill me in about the real purpose here?” Dorset asked, lowering her voice. “I know it’s bad, but we’re not being repurposed into frontline infantry… are we?”

Kell ran a hand through his hair wearily then glanced around to see if anyone was in earshot. 

“Not as frontline infantry, no, but command thinks there’s only a 60 percent chance of success in the evacuation. If it fails, our orders are to make sure the comm center is destroyed and then take the survivors into the forests to attack Imperial supply lines. That’s where we would need everyone to fight, and it’s why we brought some of the Katarn commandos,” Kell explained as he pointed to the other group of four instructors with the Wraiths.

Dorset shivered at the thought and slept fitfully that night. When she woke, her clothes were damp with sweat and her hair was matted. At least they were being called to a post-breakfast meeting as pilots. Radie had tried to teach her, but Dorset still didn’t know any other way to fight and have a good chance at surviving.

***

The 14 A-Wings raced along at nearly tree-top level, with Dorset, Radie, and Linna stationed in the rear. Commander Mayn needed another few days to recover from her head injury before the medics cleared her to fly again, and Ace Squadron had lost a rookie pilot during the Imp attack three days ago. Pash told Linna they were lucky that was the only death so far, and that they would need more luck to see everyone home again today.

The Imperials were landing vehicles and troops for another assault, so the Aces’ mission was to hit a supply depot 200 klicks from Generis base first in the hope that would buy enough time for an unhindered evacuation. The Wraiths and Commander Verlaine’s Y-Wings had been sent to fly along a canyon route to the depot as a diversion, in the hope that would draw the TIEs away for a clean hit-and-fade strike by the A-Wings. The best case scenario was that both groups would avoid detection and be able to destroy the depot together, but no one was counting on it.

So Dorset took joy in flying at breakneck speed, only three meters - sometimes less - above the highest branches. Low and fast was what she’d sought to do since childhood, and it was usually limited to sims. But not today; now she was doing it for real and loving every second. The group was in a descending formation so they all had a clear view ahead, giving the greatest challenge to Dorset, Radie, and Linna. It was heightened by their A-Wings carrying rockets and bomblets on the underside, an operational first for her while Radie’s Starchaser had regularly used them.

Sparing a quick glance to her display boards, Dorset noted they were over halfway to the depot. The Wraiths had taken off with a 10 minute head start, since the A-Wings would easily catch up in terms of when they’d reach the target barring a dogfight. The plan relied on at least one group making their way undetected, and so far the Aces had achieved that. Just a little while longer.

“Control to Ace Squadron,” Sergeant Mesqi Palaso told them from aboard Ession Strike a few minutes later. For this mission, he was relaying comms between the two starfighter groups, with the corvette holding station in low orbit over Generis base. Direct contact would have been too easy for the Imps to detect. “Wraiths reporting a pitched dogfight with TIEs. No casualties.”

Dorset scowled but made up for it by lowering her altitude another half meter and throttling up a fraction. Someday - when the war was over - she’d come back and do this type of flying again in a peaceful race with her friends. But for now they had a supply depot to destroy, so everyone on base could get away and keep fighting at the next planet they retreated toward. 

“Two minutes to target. All pilots, form a line,” Pash ordered and the squadron broke away from having each flight in stacked succession. Now they were all flying as low as possible to avoid an early detection, not that it would matter soon enough. Dorset spent the last moments before the battle thinking of a future with simple races, cool autumn weather, and feeling wind in her hair.

Then the trees fell away, revealing the staging area they’d been sent to attack. 

Images from the fleet in orbit had been limited, so the strike mission planning was far from ideal. But that was true of everything on Generis.

***

AT-ATs and A6 Juggernaut assault vehicles stood at the edges of the field like massive sentries, nearly as tall as the redwood trees they’d been flying over, and the A-Wings swerved away from them after opening fire. They focused on the AT-AT’s neck from an angle first and then targeted their sides, aiming for the fuel tanks. Blaster fire had to be doubled up to tear through armor, but could knock out a walker with the right aiming. Radie claimed two in the first run with her rockets while Dorset and Linna worked together to destroy one with the usual side-mounted cannons.

The Juggernauts were a harder target, as they had less weak points, were lower to the ground, and had blaster cannons with a full range of movement. There were anti-air turrets and Saber hover-tanks returning fire as well, and portable batteries launched short-range unguided missiles. The A-Wings had to shift to evading it all even as they kept trying to destroy targets.

Dorset just hoped that each vehicle they took out provided more time for the Generis base to be evacuated. She broke hard to port as lasers streaked by, Linna following suit while Radie veered off to head deeper into the fray.

“Stay on the walkers,” she ordered before diving toward the troops in the field and strafing them. Radie continued her vicious assault by dropping bomblets over the fuel stores, and the resulting blast nearly engulfed her A-Wing. At least its billowing smoke screened them from incoming fire.

Dorset cursed, then glanced over to where the Ace Squadron regulars were bracketing the A6 juggernauts and smaller Chariot LAVs parked in formation. The enemy fire there hadn’t let up either, and she swore even further when one of the trailing A-Wings disappeared into a laser beam from the ground. Only a fireball was left behind. 

“Four’s gone!” someone yelled over the comm - Ace Three, probably. Dorset flicked on a direct comm line with Linna but was relieved to hear that Four was another rookie she hadn’t known.

They made another set of quick passes against the Juggernauts, destroying half of them before Pash ordered a retreat - the TIE Interceptors Wraith Squadron had been engaging would return any moment. And they’d had several other close calls, including a missile that blew up within a hundred meters of Dorset and Linna’s A-Wings. Debris had rained down on them, but they were still flightworthy. Radie checked theirs quickly and reported her own fighter was undamaged.

***

Ace Squadron, now reduced to 13, was nearly halfway back to Generis base when Linna got on the comm to say she was having power fluctuations in both engines. Dorset cursed and slipped her A-Wing out of formation, giving her a view of what Radie had missed - Linna’s A-Wing had lost the protective covering over its lower section and the engines were rattling out of alignment.

“Throttle back now!” Dorset told her. “Everyone do it, Linna’s fighter will probably break apart if we keep at this.”

But Linna held her course. “Twelve to Leader, can we make it to base without being intercepted by the TIEs if we reduce speed?”

“I don’t think so,” Pash answered with difficulty. “Early reports are Dauntless Squadron lost two Y-Wings but all the Wraiths made it.”

“Then I’ll take my chances,” Linna told them. “We can’t afford a dogfight, not with the 181st. And I’d be an easy target then anyway.”

Dorset closed her eyes in frustration for a moment but knew her friend was right. They couldn’t do anything but hope and keep going. It would be a long 120 klicks, especially since they were taking a more winding route this time. Pash had them increase altitude to four klicks though, in case Linna needed to eject, and stationed Dorset and Radie trailing behind Linna’s A-Wing.

***

At 70 klicks out, Linna’s right engine began shaking even more and she hurriedly cut the throttle in spite of what she’d said earlier. Dorset and Radie braked to stay behind her.

It was too late.

The engine ripped free of its mountings and pinwheeled away, trailing flames like an errant Life Day sparkler. Linna’s A-Wing veered to the left, now powered by a single failing engine. Then it broke free as well and the rest of its tail started to disintegrate.

“Controls unresponsive,” Linna grunted - her inertial compensator was gone too. “Punching out.”

Dorset was relieved to see her ejection seat rocket out of the doomed A-Wing, but that meant a whole new set of problems. They were still 70 klicks from base, and in single-seat interceptors.

The comm channel fell quiet as they circled, watching Linna’s parachute deploy and she drifted to the ground. They’d destroyed the main Imp staging area, but there were others spread across the forest between their position and Generis base. And the Imps would be pushing closer in the hours that followed, tightening the net around the base and cutting Linna off in the process.

“Fourteen to Leader - sir, you don’t know me well but I used to be one of Bel Iblis’ commandos. I can land, get Linna in my A-Wing if she’s flightworthy, then walk back,” Radie said. “I’ll have a lot better chance at making it than she will, especially with the narrow evacuation window.”

Dorset closed her eyes in dismay. Radie had a point, but deep down Dorset suspected she was offering to trade places with Linna for Dorset’s sake. Please just make it back in time.

“That’s appreciated but denied,” Pash told them after a few moments. “I’ve known Linna longer than either of you so I hate this too. But doing something like that will just alert the Imps there’s someone important down on the deck. The best thing we can do is organize a rescue at night.”

They regrouped without a word and headed back for base. 

Dorset cried softly while they did, unable to avoid imagining what it must be like for Linna as she watched all her friends leave her behind.

I’ll find a way to go back by flying top cover for the rescue, or anything else I can do in it. I won’t abandon a wingmate - not after everything I went through with Selaggis.

***

They landed at a patch of hastily-cleared grass that had been meant to hold four A-Wings, and the reminder nearly brought Dorset to tears again. But she wiped at her face and then climbed out, not even bothering to perform any post-flight checks despite visible damage to her fighter.

Dorset was unsurprised and relieved to see Radie waiting for her down below.

“We’ll get her back,” Radie told Dorset while enveloping her in a hug and cradling her head by its night-black hair, rubbing gently. “I don’t care if I have to steal a speeder bike and exfil Linna myself. I’ve done that before under worse circumstances than a forest with stray Imp patrols.”

Dorset nodded shakily, gripping her tight. “Just be careful out there. I can’t lose either of you.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” someone said from behind Radie. Dorset peeked up and saw Face Loran walking over with Kell, Tyria Sarkin, and Elassar Targon - all wearing camouflage. 

“I know what it’s like to have your wingmate go down in the forest,” he went on. “The feeling that you have to search for them, no matter the risk. We can help get it done successfully.”

Dorset nodded with relief, while Radie gave them an appraising look before she spoke.

“The more the merrier, but we’ll need a full-size speeder - the type we can mount several heavy blasters on - and extra anti-armor weapons. Let’s go see what the armory can spare.”

Then they dispersed out, leaving Dorset alone by the A-Wings. 

Flying top cover isn’t an option now - it would be too noisy - but there’s a good chance they’ll have to steal an Imperial shuttle to get back to base. I probably have more flight hours with those than anyone here, except maybe Catalina. That’s my role in the operation.

So she tucked her flight gear into its bag and hurried off toward the supply tents, grabbing a vest and helmet to wear until they got off the ground. The helmet didn’t fit very well, but Dorset would make it work. Next she needed a blaster - something beyond a pistol but still easy to carry and use - and a backpack like the Wraiths already had.

Dorset was slipping back out of the tent when Radie spotted her. She looked perplexed at first, then broke into an amused smile as she adjusted the carry-all bag of weapons on her shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing, Dors?”

“You might need someone to fly you all out of there, and I don’t know how much flight time the Wraiths have for Imp ships other than TIE Fighters. I’m going with you. Do I look that ridiculous in combat gear?” Dorset asked, bristling slightly.

Radie shook her head, her smile growing as she pulled the helmet off and cupped the sides of Dorset’s face.

“This would really be better if you stayed - ground fighting’s very different from what you know. It can haunt you in ways that are difficult to shake when you see someone die right in front of you, or have to do the killing with your own hands. This won’t be a dogfight. But I can’t tell you not to do it,” she said with a bittersweet expression. “Oh, and you were wearing this thing backwards.”

Radie deftly flipped the helmet around in her hands and then placed it back onto Dorset’s head, buckling it down the way Dorset hadn’t been able to do herself. They shared a smile until Radie looked over and saw Pash Cracken and Todra Mayn talking animatedly with General Kryll. Both seemed furious over what they were being told, and then Cracken tossed his helmet down.

“I’ll round up the Wraiths and find you a blaster,” Radie said with a scowl. “Hopefully they’ve got the food and medical supplies we’re gonna need. Can you get us a speeder truck and drive it?”

“My family never had the money to rely on sky-taxis, and I took a spaceport job towing freighters around for refueling once I turned 14. I’ll manage,” Dorset answered. “Let’s hurry up.”

This is going to be one of those times where it’s better to seek forgiveness than ask permission. Linna’s out there all alone, we can’t wait for whatever Kryll has to say.

Dorset stripped off her combat vest and helmet, stuffing them into the bag and exchanging it for her regular flight gear again. Now I need to look inconspicuous until I have the speeder ready.

***

Dorset had walked halfway into the motor pool when she saw Hencs and a few other troopers leaving in the same direction. Cursing quietly, she dropped her gaze and turned back around in the hope they would pass without recognizing her and wondering what she was doing there.

But of course it didn’t work.

“Have you gotten lost, pilot?” Hencs sneered at her. “Typical of you. This is where our vehicles are stored, yours belong over there in the hangars.”

Dorset thought about lying, of saying that she was sent to run routine tests, but knew it wouldn’t be convincing. So she opted for the truth and hoped it worked.

“We’ve got a pilot down out there, all right? I’m just borrowing one of the speeders for a rescue mission. It won’t be missed, most of these are getting left behind or destroyed anyway. And you know what it’s like to lose somebody that way,” Dorset said as she looked Hencs in the eye.

“That’s right. I do know what it’s like to have to leave my friends behind forever. And it seems you’ll have to learn now. These are our speeders and we’ve got some mission coming up. Try using the U-Wing,” he told her coldly. “You’re not getting through us.”

Dorset glared at Hencs in frustration. They couldn’t take the U-Wing - it would be too vulnerable against TIEs and bringing fighter cover would attract too much attention. And they’d need to find a landing zone for it in the forests where Linna had gone down. The speeder was the only way, and they’d probably still have to hide it and move in on foot once they reached the tree line.

She turned around for a moment to stay composed, not knowing what else to do, and saw other A-Wing pilots wandering over from the hangar. Then Radie and the Wraiths started coming back with their gear. If we have the numbers, maybe I can make them let us go. I don’t care what happens after that as far as punishment; I have to bring Linna back - at any cost.

Fueled by pure desperation, Dorset spun back round and tried to dart past Hencs and the other troopers. But the burly man blocked her with a shove, and Dorset’s foot snagged over a tow line behind her, and then she fell hard against the dirt with a yelp on impact. 

Her tailbone ached. The surprised expression on Hencs’ face showed he hadn’t meant to do it. 

But Radie either didn’t see that or didn’t care. 

She dropped her carry-all loaded with weapons, both to free her hands and to keep it nonlethal, then stormed in. Her elbow smashed against the side of his head and Radie spun him into her low hook as it buried into his stomach next. She punched him again, then shoved him down too.

“How’s that feel?” Radie bellowed as she stood over Hencs while he groaned weakly. When he tried to get back up, she kicked him in the chest.

Then a pair of Hencs’ friends charged at her, the other A-Wing pilots rushed in as well, and the tension that had simmered for days finally broke to the surface.

Dorset crawled backward to avoid being trampled, watching helplessly as Radie traded blows with the two soldiers at the center of the fray. Heath Jalle and Thatch Docen forced their way over to her sides, pushing back other troopers that tried to join in, and all down the line there were pilots and ground soldiers shoving and yelling indistinctly at each other.

Tyria helped Dorset to her feet as the rest of the Wraiths began trying to separate the groups with help from Pash Cracken, Commander Varth, and their ground counterparts. The fighting didn’t fully break up until Commander Verlaine walked in and fired her dual-barreled carbine into the air at the edge of the fight. That got everyone’s attention and most turned to face her.

Dorset was looking over at the disintegrating scrum, though, and gasped slightly as she saw Radie now. Her lip was split and the stitches on her forehead had been torn by a punch. A line of blood ran down alongside her rumpled hair, but she seemed unbothered. 

“Enough!” General Kryll shouted from behind Verlaine. “We’ve got a mission first thing in the morning tomorrow to evacuate Outpost Aurek, we need you all working together. We’ll have every pilot flying top cover for the Gallofrees that will be used, so rest up tonight.”

“Sir, one of our pilots ejected during the attack and needs to be rescued,” Dorset said plaintively as she slid to the front of the group with Radie close behind. “We were about to leave for that.”

“I know,” Kryll answered. “I’m sorry, but bringing the troops at Outpost Aurek back has priority. We can’t afford to send out a rescue party for one pilot who’s probably been captured or killed by now. I’m in command, it’s my order. I don’t want you to feel guilty about it.”

No! She has to still be out there, Dorset thought. But she knew he had a point; the Imp troops were pushing closer to Generis Base and that would make getting to Linna’s position difficult. Returning back from there would be even more dangerous.

Dorset tried to stammer out a rebuttal and looked to Commander Mayn and Captain Tabanne, but only saw pain and regret in their eyes. There was nothing they could do either. She turned back around, sinking limply into Radie’s shoulder as all the post-Selaggis grief started to return.

I want to see Linna smile again, hear her laugh. I want to curl up into a ball and just be left alone until the whole kriffing war ends and my friends stop dying. What the kriff are we even doing out here in the Rim, anyway? Hardly anyone even lives on Generis. It’s not worth this.

What are we going to tell her parents and her little brother Ric?

“I can’t go through this again,” Dorset whispered brokenly, clinging tighter to Radie’s flightsuit, and was surprised she actually heard it. 

“You do it for her,” Radie murmured back, holding her up. “For all of them. Let’s get you away from this damned crowd now, okay? I know what it’s like to leave somebody behind too.”

Dorset let Radie guide her away, keeping her head down so the others - especially Hencs, kriff him - wouldn’t see her tears. But then Atril called for them to wait, and when Dorset looked over she saw the naval captain had been talking with Commander Mayn and Face Loran.

“Begging your pardon, General, but as a practical matter the Wraiths, myself, and the new set of A-Wing pilots aren’t actually subject to your authority. War Order 14-9 was signed by Generals Cracken of Intelligence and Crespin of Starfighter Command - as well as Admiral Nantz, now commander of Outer Rim forces. It places us on detached service under Captain Loran, who only answers to Cracken or Major Ors,” Atril told them as she produced a datapad to support her claim. “Face, will you be needing Ession Strike for your rescue attempt?”

Dorset’s heart soared with gratitude, though she was a bit confused by Atril’s last statement until it clicked. Strike would be almost useless for retrieving Linna given its size, but Kryll desperately needed it for his own operation. Atril was using her own ship as indirect leverage against him.

Come hell or high water, they would have their rescue mission after all.

Chapter Text

26

General Kryll had begrudgingly agreed to give them a speeder and supplies for Linna’s rescue, in return for Face relinquishing four pilots and Ession Strike to the Outpost Aurek evacuation. But he made it clear to Captain Tabanne that he didn’t appreciate being blackmailed like that.

The rescue team would include Dorset, Radie, Face, Kell, Tyria, and Elassar as medic, along with a sniper-spotter team from Generis’ small militia unit - two men named Bettin and Mullox.

Kell had tried to suggest that it might make more sense to bring Shalla, an apparent expert in hand-to-hand combat, but Tyria had wrinkled her nose and pointed out she was better suited for sneaking through the forest as a former Antarian Ranger. Besides, Tyria said, if they got into the close-quarters combat Shalla excelled at then there would be a whole host of problems.

The others were loading up the speeder truck, so Dorset stayed behind to thank Atril and give her a hug, protocols of rank be damned. Linna would’ve been abandoned without her.

“You put your whole career on the line for this,” Dorset told her. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Atril smiled slightly. “Between Wedge and Areta, I’ve learned that you’re not fit to lead unless you’re willing to do that for your people. And being around the Wraiths definitely leaves a mark for finding unconventional solutions. Just be careful and come back alive. Good luck.”

“Same to you on the Aurek evacuation. We’ll be back before the five-day window to get off the planet for good closes,” Dorset replied.

They hugged again before Atril returned to her ship and Dorset headed over to the speeder. Voort was helping set up a spare anti-air turret in the back along with fixed heavy blasters and four auto-cannons. The Wraiths would be riding there, with Radie carrying her MK rifle in the front next to Dorset. She’d added a grenade launcher under the barrel, put a foregrip on top, and clipped her vibroblade to the front again. Radie’s brown eyes were set, not in anger so much as coldness. It was a look that said she’d burn her way through any Imps in their path. 

Dorset on the other hand was much less intimidating, with an E-11 propped against her seat and an ammo pouch clipped to her shoulder plate. They were all wearing light armor painted like the trees on Generis, taken from the base’s excess supplies. It did help that their mission now had semi-official backing from General Kryll.

Radie said if they got into combat, Dorset should stay inside and keep the engine running. The more she thought about it, the less that bothered her. At least the speeder had lots of armor and reinforced windows. But eventually they’d have to get out on foot, possibly for hours depending on how close they could get to Linna’s crash site.

Dorset kept the speeder’s running lights off even as night fell, trusting in its terrain mapping data to keep them on course. They were going over an unpaved road as it meandered between the trees, and with her background on Coruscant that left Dorset amazed. She’d never seen forests like this, not when she grew up in the city and had spent most of her service time aboard ship or at Folor’s moon. With the windows down, she could even hear avians circling overhead.

It was almost enough to distract her from the cold reality of the mission: that Dorset had allowed Radie and Linna to fill the void left by Tetengo and Rushi’s deaths at Selaggis. And now they all were at risk, with Dorset and Linna vastly out of their element on the ground compared to Radie.

Any one of us could die.

All of us could die.

Especially me.

But I have to do this regardless - after Selaggis, I have to know I did everything I could for my wingmate. It’s worth the risk.

Dorset settled her eyes back on the road - as little of it as she could see in the growing dark - and gulped. Let’s get this done and bring her back, then get the kriff out of here.

***

They drove slow, keeping the engine noise down as much as possible in case of any passing Imp patrols. Dorset needed it - Radie and the Wraiths were using night-optics, but she lacked the training for them and so had to rely on her own limited eyesight and Radie’s instructions.

“Tree dead ahead, 50 meters out,” Radie warned yet again. Dorset turned the wheel slightly to avoid it, but a few minutes later they hit a patch of forest half a klick wide. There was no way through those trees - not in the speeder. They would have to go the rest of the way on foot, but at least they had planned for this. Dorset just wished they’d gotten closer than 30 klicks out.

“It’ll be past dawn by the time we get to where Linna went down,” Face said as he helped lift a hover-sled from the back of the speeder truck and fill it with supplies they would need - rockets for use against any armored vehicles they encountered, spare armor and blasters, power packs, food, and medical supplies. They took another sled in case Linna was hurt too badly to walk.

Then they hid the speeder as best they could and set off walking into the night, Dorset sticking close behind Radie. Twice they had to drop and hide from a passing Imp column, and the sky was pocked with dropships bringing more armored vehicles and TIE Fighters flying escort.

By daybreak, Dorset’s legs were aching and her feet burned - especially since she was the shortest one in their group - but she didn’t ask for a moment to rest. She’d insisted on going, and any delay would just lengthen the time Linna was left abandoned. It was unacceptable.

So Dorset marched along, exhausted but glad she could at least see as the sun crested over the mountains at the edge of the forest. The sounds of avian wildlife around them had stopped, even though it had been a steady constant that helped her remain alert in the pre-dawn hours, and Radie suddenly froze in front of her.

“Fall in with the Wraiths,” she hissed quietly to Dorset, turning around and shouldering her MK rifle with a finger in the trigger guard. Dorset hurried over to where they stood, whispering that Radie must have noticed something behind them. 

Then the chilly air was split by the sound of blaster fire, both from Radie’s MK and the traditional Imp E-11 carbines. The MK was a persistent burst, though, drowning out the more scattered fire by stormtroopers within a few long seconds.

Dorset shivered as the blaster exchange stopped entirely, steeling herself for the possibility of a few pistol shots next and wondering what the Wraiths would say about it. The Imps have taken thousands of our troops prisoner, maybe - please no - even Linna. Don’t put them at risk, Radie.

But the silence continued.

The Wraiths were fanned out, scanning the treeline around them in case other patrols heard the blaster fire, and Dorset hid behind a stump until Radie came back. 

“There were eight in the patrol, I got them in one long burst,” she told them while tossing away a drained power pack. “We better get moving though, it won’t be long before they’d report in.”

So the group started running, Dorset doing her best to keep mirroring Radie’s posture. Now they were carrying their blasters lengthwise across their bodies, crouching low in case of incoming fire from the sides. It wasn’t long before Dorset’s lungs began to burn almost as much as her legs and her back ached under the full pack, but she pressed on. 

***

Finally they stopped under a waterfall some 30 minutes later, but to Dorset it felt like at least an hour. She bent forward at the waist, clutching her knees, and tried to catch her breath slowly.

“That’s not like running in the gym,” Dorset wheezed to Radie before taking her offered canteen. The Wraiths, Bettin, and Mullox were all drinking as well, half of them seated as they took their packs off and shook rocks from their boots.

“How long before we get going again?” Dorset started to ask Tyria. But she didn’t acknowledge the question and instead stood, her eyes narrowing. The Wraiths followed suit and quickly slid behind the nearby boulders, with the sniper team doing the same a moment later. Radie took hold of Dorset’s collar and pulled her down behind a log, laying flat at the end with her MK rifle.

Peeking over the top, Dorset saw a group of 10 stormtroopers come around a bend in the trail. She cursed under her breath, sliding backward until her shin guard caught against a branch on the log. Dorset froze, but the damage was done - she heard the wood break with a snap.

And so did the stormtroopers. 

They swung toward her direction while raising their blasters. 

Dorset flipped the E-11’s safety catch off and began to rise, hoping she could make up for her mistake, but Radie was quicker. She sprang up to her knees, raising the MK rifle and firing on automatic. The blaster bolts spewed out, catching stormtroopers in the belly and dumping them to the ground like sacks of meat. The Wraiths fired more precise shots from cover as well.

Their shots chewed through the enemy formation, but Dorset saw a wounded stormtrooper at the back pull some sort of cylinder and roll it weakly through the dirt their way. Radie saw it too.

She reached out and lobbed it toward an unoccupied boulder, then tackled Dorset and pressed her into the ground behind the log. Dorset felt Radie curling up on top of her, and suddenly there was a deafening thunderclap as pieces of rotting wood and stone showered down on them. 

“Sithspit,” someone breathed. With the thumping pain that had started behind her eyes and left ringing in her ears, Dorset couldn’t tell who that was.

She felt something sticky on the side of her face and rolled over. Radie was crouched above her now, and as the last stormtrooper crawled toward his comm unit she shot him twice in the head with her pistol. 

Only then did Radie take off her shoulder plate, pierced by two shrapnel fragments from the grenade, and bandage the surface wound left behind. After that was done she took a strip of cloth and soaked it with her canteen, wiping the blood from her shoulder off of Dorset’s cheek.

Radie giggled slightly as she glanced down to make sure Dorset hadn’t been injured herself, and a quick look in the pooled water showed why - dirt was caked all over her face and down her clothes, and leaves had gotten stuck in her hair where it escaped from under her helmet.

“You’re frontline infantry now,” Radie told her with a smile. “Beyond the front lines, actually.”

Dorset knew she was just saying that as a distraction from the fact that the shrapnel would’ve caught her full in the face if Radie hadn’t jumped on top of her, but it still meant something.

The others weren’t in a hurry to keep moving, so Dorset made no move to wash it off. Instead she dug around in their supplies for the Wraiths’ surveillance gear and enlisted Tyria to snap a holo of Dorset and Radie by the rocks, a record of her first ground engagement. Radie already wore face paint designed to match the dirt and trees of Generis and now they matched.

“Check this out,” Kell called over from where he had been looking through the stormtroopers’ gear. He held a pair of stun cuffs in one hand and a datapad in the other, displaying a map with several zones marked out. “They were searching for Linna too, and they haven’t found her yet.”

***

Tyria, ever the Ranger, led the way as they all clambered up a steep hill alongside the waterfall. Dorset went second to last, with Radie covering their rear and giving her a boost forward more than once. Once Elassar had floated the hover-sleds up over the hill as well, they pushed back out along the river - standard protocol for a downed pilot was to find water and hide near there.

At least Linna knows the land after being stationed here before, Dorset thought as they moved past a stream bending away from the river itself. They’d been walking for an hour and a half, but at least they were almost to where the A-Wing had gone down. The faint smell of smoke was in the air - Linna’s interceptor must have burned when it hit the ground.

Dorset stopped to look around, taking in the high patch of trees and the blue sky above them. She wondered if their binocs would magnify enough to show the positions of the New Republic and Imperial fleets in orbit, if they were fighting yet again. The air was cool and carried sounds of distant wildlife - as well as not-so-distant creatures. When Dorset glanced over to where the stream crested a hill, she saw a small fawn nibbling at berries on a fallen tree by the bottom of the hill. Suddenly the animal stopped, sniffing the air in front of it, and then bolted away.

“Bettin, what would cause that to stop eating?” Dorset asked as she pointed to the scampering fawn before it disappeared back into the woods.

“The smell of a human nearby, usually. Especially on food - game hunters like to come here and put bait in traps,” he said, frowning with distaste. “But that would wear off within a week and few are dumb enough to come here in the middle of a war.”

“If that tree had fallen naturally, there’d be a stump close by,” Tyria pointed out, raising her rifle to her shoulder and motioning for Radie to follow her over. The Wraiths fanned out to guard the sides and the two Generis troopers scrambled up the top of the hill to watch the woods at their rear. Dorset noticed Mullox had switched from his spotter scope to a carbine as well.

Dorset, lacking direction, moved to a prone position where her E-11 was sighted in at the base of the hill. She kept her finger far from the trigger, and instead looked closely at the fallen tree - it seemed there was a hollowed-out space under the hill, shielded from view by the branches.

Tyria motioned for Kell to come over, probably to screen for explosives, but suddenly the branch was pushed away from inside the apparent cave and Linna peeked out above it. 

“Hey everyone!” she called. “Glad you could come in to join me. And I see you brought some local friends.”

Dorset dropped her E-11 and ran over as Linna was climbing out of the cave she had hidden in. But Radie grabbed Dorset by the collar and held her back while pointing her DL-44 at Linna.

“What the kriff!” Dorset shouted, but Radie ignored her and kept her gaze and aim focused.

“Linna, put your hands up and don’t make any sudden moves,” she ordered, her raspy voice ice cold. “Sorry, but we still don’t know how the Imps’ cloning tech works. And the ISB likes to stick a tracker on someone and make them rejoin their friends. I’ve seen it tried before, Dors.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think the Empire can create scar tissue that looks this faded, if you let me take off my prosthetic leg,” Linna offered. “And I’m sure the Wraiths have gear to scan for trackers.”

Elassar and Kell stepped in, sweeping pronged gadgets over Linna’s extended arms and down her body to make sure there weren’t any hidden comlinks, trackers or explosives. Radie finally holstered her pistol and pulled Dorset to her feet, then looked down at her hands sadly.

“I couldn’t take the chance. I’m sorry.”

Linna shrugged it off, then gave them both the hug Dorset had been waiting for. If she wasn’t upset about being held at blaster-point, Dorset wouldn’t raise a stink about it any more either.

I’m just glad we’re all back together.

“So, what’s the plan to get back to base?” Linna asked. “And what happened to you, Dors? I’ve heard of pilots going native, but your face looks like you tried to become one with nature.” 

Dorset snorted. 

“It beats a faceful of grenade bits, and Radie said the dirt might be useful for camouflage. As far as going back, there’s a long walk to the speeder - unless the Imps found it - and then we’ll have to sneak through their lines I guess. We got half the Wraiths with us, they’ll find a way.”

***

Once Linna had eaten her first real meal since ejecting - and plenty of desserts they made sure to bring, along with sugary drinks - Dorset had a moment to really take stock of the situation as well. Recovering Linna had been her immediate priority and she hadn’t thought beyond that.

Now they were walking along, each carrying an E-11 and wearing a holstered DC-15s blaster pistol along with armor and pouches. Tyria was in lead of the formation with a Westar M-5 that was heavily modified into bullpup format. Face and Elassar had DC-17m blasters in full-length rifle configuration, while Kell carried a T-21B heavy blaster with a collapsed bipod. He stood to the right, while Bettin and Mullox were on the left. Bettin had an E-5s sniper rifle and his spotter had an E-11 like Dorset and Linna. Mullox was clearly much more adept at handling it, though.

Dorset gulped and adjusted her stance to replicate how Mullox carried it. Then she turned back to where Radie was holding the rear of the formation. The Corellian held her MK rifle like it was an extension of her arms, and that was far from the only weapon she had. The Se-14c carbine that had belonged to her mentor Bria was attached to one side of her pack, and a DL-44 pistol sat holstered on her right hip. Radie wore a combat vest over her armor, with power packs and grenades stuffed throughout its many pouches. Dorset wondered how much it all weighed.

Radie stopped checking their flanks long enough to catch Dorset’s eye and gave a reassuring smile once she’d pulled down the cloth that had covered the lower half of her face. She’d told Dorset that it brought her back to running ops for Bel Iblis’ organization, which was evidently a fond memory. The fact that she seemed eager for more ground combat was a bit unsettling.

Shaking her head, Dorset remembered an exchange between the Wraiths and a plain-faced man named Judder Page who led the Katarn Commandos from just before they set off. Page had told Face and Kell the firepower Radie carried reminded him of another Corellian named Syla Tors. Radie had explained she was a former pirate who’d joined the New Republic three years ago, whispering with a smirk that they had a fellow general in common.

Dorset brushed that memory and its implications away, looking down at her dirty boots as they continued on their nearly nine hour walk back to the speeder. She’d been awake for well past a full standard day at this point and there was no telling when they might be able to sleep properly. The combined effects of stims and stress were the main way Dorset stayed alert enough. Their grueling pace was to walk for 50 minutes, sit and rest for 10, then press onward. 

Time and time again - Dorset had lost count of the exact figure - they’d had to stop and hide as Imperial troop transports and AT-ATs moved past or TIEs flew overhead. The noose encircling Generis Base had tightened considerably since they left, but planning how to get through their lines would have to wait until they reached the speeder. Assuming the Imps didn’t find it first. 

***

Dorset hadn’t bothered checking her chrono, but the movement of the star above them showed that it was now the evening. She stopped just before they walked between a pair of sloping dirt mounds, unable to avoid a yawn any longer. At least they’d been on level ground lately, giving her legs a bit more comfort during the march.

Radie caught Dorset yawning a second time and patted her shoulder with a smile.

“We’re about a klick from the speeder, you can rest soon while we work out a way to sneak past the Imperial formation,” she promised.

Dorset had started to nod in reply when she saw green light flaring in the corner of her eye, and suddenly Mullox dropped to the ground in front of them a split-second before Dorset heard an echoing blaster shot. Smoke rose from his head and Mullox wasn’t moving.

“Sniper, left!” Face shouted while the Wraiths began pumping out blaster fire of their own in that general direction. Radie pushed Dorset and Linna to safety down behind the hill, then added her own torrent of shots from the MK rifle. Elassar yelled he was jamming Imp comms for the area.

“We’re moving over to that berm,” Kell told them as he pointed to another ridge sticking out at a nearly 90-degree angle. Even Dorset knew it would give them overlapping fields of fire - critical since they were on their own out there. Elassar took cover midway between the two positions, not bothering to check on Mullox. He was dead, and they were in serious trouble - the Imps had returned a mass volley of their own as stormtroopers advanced and lasers sparked into the hills protecting them, kicking up showers of dirt.

“Bettin, on me! I’m your spotter now,” Radie called without shifting her focus off the tree line in front of them as she took power packs from her vest with one hand. “Dors and Linna, keep your heads down and get the ammo crates off the sled. We’ll need more of it soon.”

Dorset stayed crouched low, pulling lids off the boxes and keeping the power packs divided by blaster type. From her position, she couldn’t see much more than Radie’s face, cheek pressed tight against the stock. She was coldly focused, her gaze pivoting from one group to another as she and Bettin fired on them. Dorset could only keep track by hearing her call out targets.

“Officer leading the squad behind those rocks - adjust your aim two marks to the left,” Radie told him. “That’s a hit, pepper the rest of them.”

“I don’t think the Imps would have found the speeder,” Face said over the comlink. “They would have sabotaged it and attacked us there. Tyria’s gonna head over but we need a driver.”

“I’ll do it,” Linna told Dorset and Radie. “I actually got sleep last night in the cave, and I raced in speeders on the Naboo plains as a kid.”

Radie bit her lip and then nodded tersely, all without looking away from the field. 

“Give Bettin that extra T-21B from the sled, we’ll lay down covering fire. The way this is going, he’ll need it more than a sniper rifle soon enough anyway. Ok, ready? Go now!”

Radie and Bettin opened up as soon as Linna started running and she cleared the gap in the hills without incident, the few stray shots missing her cleanly. Dorset exhaled in relief while passing fresh power packs up to both on the ridge. Bettin ran after Linna next, stopping at the Wraiths’ position to fill the gap Tyria had left.

They dug in after that, Radie using both blaster fire and the occasional grenade to keep the Imps at bay. Dorset scooted back against the hill, feeling dirt clumps rain down on her as Imp return shots came in with matching ferocity. The stormtroopers must’ve gotten closer despite Radie and Bettin’s efforts. They were stuck in a snare of their own, just like Generis Base.

***

Dorset was handing another rectangular power pack to Radie and trying not to think about what would happen if they ran out when the stormtroopers came over the hill next to them. Radie saw them first and started to spin around, but a blaster bolt scorched through her side and dropped her to the ground with a pained yell. She managed to swing her MK rifle around and caught the lead trooper in the gut with its attached vibroblade, then rose to a knee and gripped her DL-44 pistol in both shaking hands as she fired. Two more Imps went down at point-blank range before the next one in line knocked the blaster away from her and they grappled on the ground. Radie tried to shout a warning to Kell and Face, but it was drowned out by Bettin’s high rate of fire. 

The rest of the stomtroopers continued running past - moving to flank the Wraiths - and Dorset realized to her horror that their goal was to take all of them prisoner. An officer followed in their wake, and the Imps seemed to take little notice of Dorset as she sat by the hill covered with dirt and soot. I’m too insignificant for them to waste time, they need to catch the Wraiths by surprise and they’ll come back after. Then they’ll wait for Linna and Tyria to return and take them as well. 

The ISB will get us and we will all be interrogated until we break. Linna and I would start talking first while Radie will suffer the worst. They could probably get her to give it up by killing Linna in front of her and threatening to do the same to me next. Then they’ll know about Bel Iblis and exploit those divisions; I’ll tell them about Gorom and the E-Wing program will be exposed. 

Who knows how many pilots will die because of all that and the lack of a superior fighter; the Imps might even take the E-Wing design for their own use and then we’d really be in trouble. This is all going to be because I insisted on the rescue mission for Linna. And I’m not even allowed to know how many secrets the Wraiths here have. This is a kriffing disaster.

The thoughts spun around her head, building and building like storm winds, and she couldn’t think of anything else. There was a roaring sound in her ears, she couldn’t hear anything else, could barely breathe, couldn’t even kriffing see beyond memories of friends’ A-Wings exploding at Folor, Vahaba, and Selaggis, and how her interceptor was burning up all around her at Kuat-

Now there was a clicking noise, and for a brief terrifying moment Dorset thought it was a sound of failed attempts to eject - that she might still be in the doomed A-Wing trapped to die in flames. Her hand felt like it was burning again, just as it had been then at Kuat.

She could smell smoke now too, and her vision jerked back to what was real. Her shoulder felt like it had been beaten with a stick a dozen times and was already bruised. Her finger was stiff and crooked as well, and Dorset blinked at the realization it was locked in the trigger housing of her E-11. She’d been pulling back again and again, she realized numbly, that was the clicking sound from before. Radie slid into her field of view, and with a tender but firm grip removed the blaster carbine from her clenched hands then ejected the power pack. 

“I- You’re okay? What happened?” Dorset asked Radie, then realized her voice was so hoarse. She took the offered water canteen from Elassar, who had started applying bacta onto her left hand. Dorset hadn’t realized she was in pain until now, but it kriffing hurt.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Radie said back while looking down the barrel of the E-11 and then taking another one off the ground to replace it. The stormtroopers who had moved in to outflank them all lay dead nearby, blaster marks carved throughout their armor and the chest plate of the officer. Even the trees behind them had been set ablaze by shots that had missed - that wasn’t like Radie, she was so eerily precise with her shooting.

“Dors, the important thing from this is you got the Wraiths and I out of a major jam. You blasted all the Imps flanking us - I guess they didn’t see you down there,” Radie explained while she brushed some of the dirt from Dorset’s face and tilted her helmet back, kissing her forehead. 

“Oh,” Dorset murmured. “Well, I guess it was them or us. Had to be done.”

“That’s exactly how you should look at it, it’s the mindset we had in the commandos,” Kell added while patting Dorset’s shoulder. “You did good back there.”

“Uh - thanks,” Dorset said as she looked around with a clearer head. Radie wore a self-applied bandage on her stomach from where she’d been hit and injected herself with a medspike above the wound. When the others asked about it, Radie lied through clenched teeth that she was fine.

But any further discussion was interrupted by Bettin shouting that more Imps were headed their way.

***

Dorset peered over the top of the ridge and saw at least four hover-tanks pushing through the trees with more stormtroopers following in their wake. Radie looked over, her expression grim.

“Face, get that sled moving! Run over to those boulders, Dors. We gotta get under solid cover!”

They were sprinting now, leaving Mullox’s body behind, and Radie defiantly fired her rifle along the way. One of the tanks blasted apart the hill they’d been hiding by moments later and Dorset nearly stumbled at the concussive explosion. Kell reached out, keeping her upright as they ran.

He and Face were pulling out a cylindrical tube and a flat rectangular plate once they got behind the boulders, bracketing the tube in place with a series of stabilizing rods. Radie was further up the trail now, firing her rifle toward the nearest group of stormtroopers moving up with the tanks.

There was a whumpf sound from the upright tube; Kell was removing another explosive charge with ventral fins when Dorset glanced over at them. He dropped it down and she saw the rocket fly away immediately afterward, arcing toward the nearest tank. Dorset chanced a quick peek at the field and saw the resulting explosion rip through the left side of the tank, wiping out troopers who had been standing there as well. Radie fired at the next one, even if her shots just sparkled with no effect. She’d been in her element before, plugging away at the stormtroopers, but when she turned back toward Dorset now her expression was terrified.

“There’s nothing more you can do, Dors, get the hell out of here! Face - pack up that mortar, we have to break contact and find new cover. Go go go!” Radie took off running as well, firing away with her MK rifle at hip level, and moments later even the boulder was blown to pieces. Imperial return fire nearly caught up to them as they ran into the trees, sliding down behind another hill.

Dorset didn’t want to abandon them, in spite of what Radie had said, but it was clear she was right. There was no point to sitting and handing out more power packs when they would need to displace again within the next 30 seconds. She started to run off when they heard the whine of their speeder’s engine down in the field as well, and then its quad-barreled cannon burst to life.

The cannon had been built for use targeting TIE Bombers, but it worked just as well against the three remaining hover-tanks and the way it chewed through individual stormtroopers made even Radie wince. Linna was maneuvering the speeder in reverse while Tyria ran fire control in back, and her typically wild movements kept the hover-tanks from getting a solid lock.

Radie stopped firing for a moment, ruffling Dorset’s hair and laughing as Linna zig-zagged away from enemy blasts while Tyria worked the cannons. Face and Kell got back on the mortar after that though, and she quickly shouldered her MK rifle to help keep the Imps on their heels.

Linna was swerving the speeder up the hill forward now, angling it so that Tyria could swivel the blaster cannon around and fire at the hover-tanks if they tried to engage. The Wraiths jumped in through the rear section, while Dorset and Radie used the open passenger’s side door for cover. 

With no Imps in pursuit, Dorset set down her helmet and E-11, curled up against the seat, and finally drifted off into much-needed sleep. 

***

“So what are we going to do?” Linna was asking as Dorset blearily opened her eyes and rubbed the grit away. The speeder had stopped in a grove of trees, and the others were gathered near the front while Bettin watched something through his sniper rifle. She slid down the seat to join them, and Radie glanced over at Dorset cheerlessly while putting her helmet and vest back on.

“We’re just nine klicks from base, but the Imps have a line of hover-tanks spaced out every 100 meters so we can’t get through,” Radie explained. “Unless someone distracts them first. But the speeder won’t be able to stop and pick them up, not with the Imps on your tail. So they’ll have to find their own way back.”

Dorset cursed, peering down through the thrush of trees - she could see the hover-tanks below.

“I’m team leader, it’s my responsibility,” Face said after a moment.

“And that’s why you’re needed back on base. I’m the demolitions expert, I actually know how to get this done,” Kell interjected before pivoting to Tyria. “If I don’t make it back from this, I’ll be thinking of you. Honesty to on.”

Dorset winced slightly, wondering if Kell stole the line from one of Face’s more melodramatic holofilms - who knew what inside jokes the Wraiths had - and saw Tyria shaking her head at both of them.

“You and your egos would never even get close. I’m the ranger, damn it. I’ll go down there.”

“No,” Face and Kell answered in unison, but her angry glare at Kell left Face explaining why on his own.

“We don’t know why Thrawn keeps trying to capture Luke, Leia, or the twins but they might use you instead,” he said to Tyria. “I had misgivings about even bringing you to Generis.”

“Then what’s the play?” Tyria asked, grimacing but accepting his reason.

“These autocannons can be controlled from a datapad, right?” Radie cut in from behind them. When Dorset whirled around, she saw Radie placing a second one onto the hover-sled along with their remaining stash of grenades and other explosives.

“You Wraiths talk too much,” she went on. “Besides, your squad has only been around for two years - I was one of General Bel Iblis’ commandos for twice as long. This is what I’m best at.”

Dorset watched, her eyes blurring, as Radie started re-applying face paint - selected to match the tall grass between them and the hover-tanks - and restocked her vest with full power packs.

“Chin up, Dors. This isn’t one of those holofilms where the hero goes off and sacrifices herself. I’m coming back, it will just take me a little longer to reach base. Kell, look out for her until I do,” Radie said, flashing them a ferocious grin. “Not to offend Tyria’s Jedi sensibilities, but I’m gonna have a bit of fun with the challenge.”

Then she synced the two autocannons with a datapad and added a rocket launcher to her pile. Dorset knew she would have a good shot at surviving, but the other problem would be whether Radie could make it back to base in time for the evacuation off planet. Bravado only went so far.

She was still worrying as Radie finished quickly hugging both Dorset and Linna, bit down on a stim pill, and disappeared into the brush.

Within a few minutes, they saw a missile streak up and pierce the back of a hover-tank where its fuel was stored, setting it on fire. Stormtroopers nearby ran toward the field it had launched from and were cut down by automatic fire from the remotely-controlled cannons, but that only brought more Imps to chase after Radie. She’d done her part in clearing out a hole for them to escape.

Dorset felt numb as Linna took off in the speeder, racing down the hill and flying across the field as hover-tanks tried to shoot them and TIE Fighters could be heard in the distance. They had to go full throttle to make it, she knew they couldn’t stop for Radie, but it still burned.

She had gone out to rescue a friend, and in the process left another behind.

It was a bitter trade.

Chapter Text

27

Dorset slid out of the speeder once it had come to a stop, feeling incredibly tired. Commander Mayn and Captain Cracken were waiting for them and Linna glanced over.

“I’ll tell them what happened,” she said comfortingly. “You get some rest.”

Trudging away, Dorset kept her head down until she nearly walked into Catalina Paby by the makeshift hangars - she’d been tinkering with her U-Wing again. Dorset craved the distraction as well, but knew if she stopped then Catalina would ask about how the rescue mission went.

Kriff it.

“We brought Linna back safely, but Radie was cut off in the process. She’s still out there and all alone now,” Dorset stammered in response to the unspoken question that hung in the air.

Catalina closed her eyes for a moment. “It felt the same way when my squadron had people left behind at the river. I know Radie a bit from our Corellia mission - she’s tough and has the best chance getting out of there as anyone. Even if she got caught, she’d probably just organize a breakout from the holding center. Oh, I almost forgot: while you were gone we managed to pull everyone from Outpost Aurek and bring them back here. For whatever good it’ll end up doing.”

Dorset blinked - she’d been in such a daze since they made it back to the New Republic’s lines that she hadn’t noticed anything about that.

“How bad is the situation for us?” Dorset asked while sitting down. Her legs were so tired and she hoped Catalina wouldn’t take it personally if she fell asleep then and there. Thankfully the U-Wing pilot nodded understandingly and joined her on the ground.

“Their vanguard is set up just outside of our laser artillery range, and we can’t spare what long distance rockets we have remaining. They have too much anti-air support for a strike to do any good, even with how close they are. If they backfill those positions before we get the Gallofrees prepped and ready to launch then it’s all over. They’ll move in and hit the shields until they fall, then shell our outer lines. The Imps are taking care not to flatten the comm center, but at that point it won’t matter - they’d pour in ground troops and overrun our remaining positions.”

Dorset felt a chill roll down her spine at the thought. She’d be capable of escaping in an A-Wing, but all the ground troops would be doomed and Catalina’s U-Wing might not get away either.

“How long until the Gallofrees are ready?” Dorset asked, sweating - partly because Radie had that long to return and wouldn’t even know about it. 

“Two days - I think. The engineers are working around the clock,” Catalina replied. She glanced to their left, where forward combat communicator Mesqi Palaso had stopped to wave, and blew him a kiss before remembering Dorset was there as well.

“I won’t tell anyone about that,” she promised to Catalina with a faint smile. “Back in training, two of my best friends were secretly together since our commander might not have approved.”

“Thanks - Varth is a pain about this sort of thing, even though it goes back to before we came to Generis. Do you have anybody back in the fleet or on Coruscant?”

“Not quite yet,” Dorset answered, shrugging coyly. “But when this is all over I think I’d like to.”  

***

Once she’d woken up the next morning, Dorset rolled off her cot and traded in her long-sleeved shirt and leggings for a clean flightsuit. Then she poured an extra large serving of caf, letting the cup warm her hands for a moment before gulping it down. Generis had a temperate climate, but since the pilots were all billeted in a row of tents it got cold at night.

Finally she stepped back outside, braving the sight of Radie’s empty A-Wing nearby. At least the sleeping pill Dorset had needed the night before kept her from having any dreams about it. Then she saw Linna watching, her helmet on, as a mechanic began loading new rockets under the wings.

“Sorry, Dors, but I need to be ready to fly and all of Pash’s A-Wings are assigned. I think Radie would understand,” Linna told her hastily. “We’re not on alert duty yet, though with the Imps at our gates I’m not sure that matters. They already re-armed your A-Wing. This isn’t easy for me either - not when I’m the one who had to be rescued. We just have to hold faith she makes it.” 

Dorset nodded - debating whether to tell Linna that Radie had asked Cracken for permission to land and trade places with her on the deck - then stayed quiet. They watched as techs loaded more rockets and bombs to the other A-Wings around, waiting and hoping for word as the day dragged on. But it never came, and the lack of knowing was the worst part.

Linna’s situation had been bad enough. The possibility that Radie would successfully fight her way back through the Imperial lines, only to see the last transport lifting off, was something that Dorset couldn’t shake. 

So she took another sleeping pill that night, desperate for the peace it gave. She knew that was likely against regulations and would be a problem if the Imps launched a surprise assault by air, land, or both - but it was better than the insomnia alternative.

After breakfast the following morning, Dorset topped off her caf and reported to the alert station. There she and Linna would be on standby in case of an Imperial attack or TIE incursion - they’d been known to probe the base’s outer defenses and response time, as the shield couldn’t cover the whole base on a regular basis. Nor could the A-Wings wait with the engines running as that used too much fuel. It was yet another form of compromise the New Republic faced at Generis.

Around mid-day, they were briefed on how the evacuation would be conducted once the GR-75s were finally ready. The ground troops would board first, with the tanks and starfighters serving in rearguard duty until that was complete. Sector Commander-in-Chief Travia Chan gave the brief, having finally escaped Outpost Aurek. She said the plan was for the tanks to roll back into the last transport in stages, but even Dorset realized the enemy advance would make that unlikely. 

Third Corps’ armor section consisted of aging vehicles anyway, and lifting the de facto siege of Coruscant had the highest priority for Command. Once that happened, battalions of tank crews stuck on its surface would easily fill the void left by Generis losses. They were expendable, and everyone knew it. Dorset caught a quick glimpse of Hencs and the others who’d fought against her and Radie, but looked away before making eye contact. Their expressions were stony yet still accepting of the task assigned to them. She understood Hencs’ frustration a lot better now.

***

Once the briefing concluded, everyone fell out of formation and into the company of their peers. 

“I just want to get out of here,” Bickey said quietly after they returned to the alert station. He had good reason to be afraid - the Y-Wings would carry the burden of close support duty. “With how we lost Vicks and Neiu during the attack on the Imp base last time, well - I’m scared, boss.”

“Deep down I think most of us felt the same way at Yavin,” Commander Verlaine replied, taking his hand. “There were only 30 of us against the Death Star and we all had hyperspace-capable ships. We could’ve run, claimed it was to carry on the Rebellion, but we stayed on mission. Now we’ve got our unit, the X-Wings, A-Wings, both Wraith and Katarn commandos. Not to mention the poor tankers. And the Imps don’t have a Death Star today. You’ll get through this.”

“I just came back from being shot down behind the lines, and I’m ready to go up again,” Linna chimed in. “Not that I like this, but for the people I got counting on me. Because a friend stayed behind the Imp lines to give us the opportunity to keep going. You do it for your home on Ukio, now taken by Empire. Keep going, and one day it will be free again.”

“And I’ll fight for my people,” Verlaine told them, her voice soft but firm. 

Dorset felt she should add something as well, remembering how the similarly youthful Polearm Squadron pilot Carmiya Rendon had voiced those same fears to her just before Selaggis. 

Just before Carmiya died.

“Growing up, I always knew flying carried some element of risk - more than a few of the pilots I read about as a kid either went down or just disappeared. So I pushed those fears away, even as it drove my parents up a wall,” Dorset said with a bit of a smile. “Hopefully the spirit of this still applies to you bomber jockeys, but when it comes to stunt flying the biggest mistake is to panic and overcorrect. So do your best up there and try not to worry about what could happen - it will only slow you down and weaken your reflexes.”

Bickey nodded, his resolve strengthened, and buckled his helmet back in place.

It wasn’t long before the rigged-up klaxon blared to life and Mesqi Palaso’s voice came over the comms, ordering the A-Wings to scramble and for the Y-Wings to standby for possible bombing.

“Ground-based sensors detected an Imperial tank and a lot of smaller contacts moving over the mountain on our flank. We’re relaying their projected course to you now, go check it out. Seems like a scouting mission to get overhead eyes on us and see when we evacuate,” Palaso said. 

Dorset and Linna hurried into the cockpits and got airborne, linking up with the U-Wing flown by Catalina Paby. The Katarn Commandos were aboard along with Mesqi, though they stayed back in case the Imperial convoy had anti-air defenses. The A-Wings would have to check it out first.

As it turned out, the convoy was easy to find - and even easier to overfly without risk. Their tank was on fire from the inside, a thick plume that darkened the sky. The snow was also stained red and scorched in a long line, bodies of stormtroopers and pieces of speeder bikes trailing behind the hover-tank. Dorset guessed the mechanized unit had numbered at platoon strength. 

“Do we have a secret guard detachment up here?” she asked the commandos. “Did they do it?”

Judder Page answered in the negative, but a closer pass gave the answer Dorset had hoped for but considered almost impossible. A group of control vanes from the speeder bikes were formed into block letters, preceded with a dashed line - RF. Radie was signing her work as a message. Dorset wondered if that was for them or the Imps, and she hoped for the former. 

Either way, this means Radie’s still alive and handling things on her own, close to the base. She is going to make it in time. She has to.

They took the return trip as slow as they could, looking for any trail of footprints or Radie herself, but didn’t have time to commit to a full search. The base needed them back on alert duty.

When Dorset and Linna landed, two Ace Squadron pilots - Lieutenant Heath Jalle and Flight Officer Thatch Docen - were waiting along with Commander Mayn. 

“They’ll take over for the rest of your shift,” Mayn told them, and Dorset felt a freezing chill for the briefest of moments until she continued with a smile. “It’s good news, don’t worry. There’s someone waiting for us in the medical tents.”

***

They practically sprinted the whole way over, Dorset outpacing the others despite her shorter gait, and only slowed at the entrance to the tent. Radie was sitting in one of the medical beds and drinking a smoothie while a corpsman stitched her forehead up again. She had bandages on her left forearm and right calf, in addition to the earlier wound in her side. Radie’s blasters were stacked on a nearby table and Dorset noticed there was a long barrel dampener added onto the Se-14c. Her vibroblade sat by the MK rifle, coated in blood and what looked worryingly like the black plastic of a stormtrooper helmet’s eye shield. Two of Radie’s climbing axes were stained red almost as much as the blade and her knuckles were scraped as well. 

I don’t want to know, Dorset thought as she pulled Radie into a hug and then grinned, turning her head to watch as the others ducked inside.

“Told you I’d make it back. I heard you were in a bit of a jam here,” Radie said with a thin smirk as she held up climbing rope left over from her backpack. “Figured I’d drop down to help out.”

“Taking out the convoy… how did you do that?”

Radie’s smile broadened in amusement at Dorset’s question.

“It wasn’t as impressive as it seems. I’d already stolen one of their speeder bikes and got out ahead of them. They had to go through a choke point with narrow rocks, so I buried a chain of charges and grenades in the snow and waited. They showed up around an hour later, and the hover-tank commander still had its hatch opened. I put a rocket through the hole, blew up the explosives under the speeder bikes, and took out the rest with my rifle,” she explained. “Then I rappelled down the mountain and into base. Getting laser burns before that wasn’t fun, though.”

Radie spoke with the nonchalance one might use about a bee sting, and Dorset shook her head in dismay over it. She paled even further as Radie coolly pointed out she had been shot before and probably would again at some point. Her body armor had been spread out nearby as well, and carried a few scorch marks beyond the pair of wounds that were visible. It had dried blood all over the forearm pads and chestplate as well, but Dorset guessed that wasn’t from Radie.

“I had to fly your A-Wing once while you were gone,” Linna interrupted hesitantly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Radie said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve shared fighters plenty before in Bel Iblis’ fleet. Actually I wanted to talk about the evac plan for tomorrow, Commander. Word is the ground troops can use another forward combat communicator and I have adequate training for that. Linna can keep flying my A-Wing with the two of you.”

Dorset sighed wearily at the idea that Radie would be on the ground again amid the evacuation.

“I’ll make it to the transports, even if I’m on the last ride out aboard Ession Strike,” Radie told them as she noticed Dorset’s worried look and grinned with even more bravado than before. 

“You certainly made an impression on Lieutenant Page,” Mayn said. “I heard him talking with Face, they plan to recommend a Platinum Valor Cross for your work taking out the convoy.”

Dorset and Linna both inhaled sharply at the news, while Radie hopped up and stretched with a slightly pleased expression. The Platinum Cross was roughly on par with the Kalidor Crescent’s place in overall New Republic hierarchy of medals and awards, but it was quite unusual now for a regular unit pilot to receive the decoration of another branch. Dorset and Radie had each been awarded Crescents after their last E-Wing test flight on Gorom went awry as well. 

“All this award talk is nice but we should get sleep early,” Radie said to the group while she put on a new ground uniform and collected her gear. “It’ll be hard enough with a battle coming up.”

They followed her out of the tent and into the cool evening air, but Dorset groaned slightly when she realized Hencs was once again standing in their path with his arms crossed. Radie’s eyes narrowed and she angled her stance sideways while sliding a hand toward her back and letting her bag fall to the ground with a thud. Kriff, of course she’s still armed and keeping a grudge.

But Hencs unfolded his arms and raised his empty hands slowly. Radie glanced over at Dorset and then relaxed at her nod.

“I didn’t come here for another fight,” Hencs told the pilots. “Given what we’ll face tomorrow, I wanted to say I was glad you all made it back safely. Before I’d looked at your group as being worthless on the ground - evidently I was wrong. Good luck up there come morning.”

Dorset shook his hand in gratitude, and the others followed suit though Linna and Commander Mayn weren’t as sure what was going on. Radie even flashed Hencs a thin smile while she did. 

“Actually I’m not done on the ground - I’ll be helping Mesqi run comms for the air team. Maybe we’ll end up working together,” she told him. Dorset was relieved by her change of attitude.

***

It began to rain during the night, the drizzling kind that rolled down the roof of their tent and then seeped through their clothes and boots after they went outside. Dorset and Linna took ponchos to wear over their flightsuits, while Radie was in full battle gear with comms equipment strapped on her back and a headset under her helmet.

She and Mesqi would be staying back from the thickest of the fighting, working together to run messages between the air and ground elements. Radie would mainly handle the pilots’ comms since she was one - the scope of the battle to come meant their work would be easier shared.

At least fog had rolled in, providing natural cover that screened the base from Imperial view. The evacuation wasn’t dependent on the weather but every little benefit counted. Troops had already begun boarding the GR-75 transports when Commander Travia Chan addressed them all.

“To those defending the evacuation - I know we’re asking a lot of you. I can’t promise you’ll be remembered with statues or memorials, because the truth is the New Republic may not last the next six months under the current pace of war,” she said over the comm. “But those of us who continue to fight will do so as your legacy. That’s all I can offer you. Now get to your stations.”

Hardly inspiring, Dorset thought, but at least Chan’s honest.

She buckled her blue-and-red helmet’s chinstrap and settled into the cockpit, powering on flight control systems. Dorset supposed she could’ve repainted it to match the A-Wing’s camouflage, but it was too late for that now. A few hours and I’ll be done with this place - one way or another.

“Comm check,” Captain Pash Cracken asked from his lead A-Wing. Commander Mayn was back with them, and would be leading their cobbled-together Third Flight with Linna on her wing. There were 13 pilots overall and five in the flight, so Dorset was without a wingmate for now.

“Ace Thirteen at the ready,” Dorset said after she scanned the panels for any sign of malfunction and closed the canopy around her. Repulsorlifts would be next in the startup sequence.

“Ground Two, I hear you all loud and clear,” Radie told them after Mesqi had also reported in. There had been talk of charging out and taking the fight to the Imp forces spread out around the base - Radie undoubtedly would have preferred that - but they just didn’t have the numbers for a successful attack. Instead they were loading as many people as they could while the pilots, tank crews, and artillery units readied for their last stand. The Imps would realize it soon enough.

***

Waiting had been the worst part, so Dorset was almost relieved when she heard that the first set of TIEs, AT-ATs, and hover-tanks were inbound. Ace Squadron’s role would be to engage enemy snubfighters first and foremost, with Dauntless Squadron’s Y-Wings focused on bombing ground targets. The X-Wings of Wraith and Typhoon squadrons would help with both missions as much as they could while escorting Verlaine’s wishbone pilots. 

Since the Wraiths were part of the aerial element, all the Katarn commandos had split up to lead an infantry squad apiece in the hope they could improve their capability. The base’s shield was pulled back to cover only the transports and troops boarding them - that left the outer defenses exposed but ensured TIE Bomber runs wouldn’t get through. In addition to the starfighter cover, they had tanks in front and most of the remaining anti-air batteries spread out with the artillery.

“Here they come!” Mesqi shouted over the comm as AT-ATs burst through the treeline like wild beasts, their cannons swiveling toward the defensive lines. Dorset was very glad to be in the air.

“Y-Wings, target the walkers first. Our tanks will go after theirs and artillery will concentrate on the stormtrooper transports. Ace Squadron, engage their fighters. X-Wings, strafe them as you can and be ready for additional tasking,” Radie directed. “Good luck and happy hunting.”

Dorset brought up her targeting computer and took a deep breath, then opened fire on the TIEs. 

The first pair she killed were inexperienced pilots. While the Empire had cloning technology, its lab-grown people still couldn’t be deployed in the mass numbers seen during the Clone Wars. 

Thank the stars for that, Dorset thought as she watched the second one fall away in flames and streaked after a third target. I just hope those weren’t conscripts or naïve recruits like I could’ve been under different circumstances back on Coruscant.

The next one was a challenge, as her A-Wing and the TIE Interceptor each started at a head-on run from across the battlefield below them. Dorset saw Verlaine’s Y-Wings making good on their squadron name as they dove past her for another attack on the AT-ATs, and flinched as rockets from the base defenses veered around her to bombard softer Imperial targets moving in.

Their goal was to cut off the evacuation and take the comm center, which New Republic ground forces hoped to destroy on the way out. From what Kell said, the explosives had already been placed.

The squint pilot opened fire first with ranging shots that sparkled against her shields but did little damage, and Dorset focused on her own battle at hand. She rolled her fighter onto its port wing, attempting to get her own hits on the TIE and failing as it juked in all directions. Kriff, this one is really good. Is it another clone of Fel or Turr Phennir? How could I beat him again?

Dorset had some time to think about that, because their interceptors were about to merge. She yanked the stick back into a sharp climb, then rolled her A-Wing over the top and managed to damage one of its engines with a quick strike before the TIE brought its nose around. Their next pass resulted in her losing part of the left control vane, though - she needed to finish this quickly.

At least I’m keeping their ace bottled up while the rest of our squadron shoots down weaker Imp pilots. Dorset had heard a few kill reports over comms during her own pursuit, while two of their own were forced to fly back toward base and eject due to heavy damage. At least they weren’t Linna or Commander Mayn - that wingpair was off a few klicks to the south fighting four TIEs.

They can’t save me now, and this mudscuffer knows any time I get a lock - maybe it’s even a Force user? Intel says the Imps have one, but can those be cloned? I don’t know. I hope not.

Dorset scanned the fields ahead of her while she pondered that grim thought, then bared her teeth in a predator’s smile upon noticing a wrecked AT-AT between her and the TIE Interceptor. Dropping down to the deck, she used her swiveling cannons to bracket the squint until it came to her level. Next Dorset toggled a few buttons to deactivate the automatic detonators in two of her under-wing rockets and fired them down at the fallen AT-AT’s hull.

As expected, they glanced off the metal side of the walker and skidded back into the air, their engines still burning. That brought them into the flight path of the TIE Interceptor, but the lack of a detonator meant they wouldn’t have registered as something to evade on its warning sensors. 

Dorset held the trigger down, her shots focused on the rockets rather than her enemy, and then the lasers pierced into the explosive cores and ignited them manually. The TIE was engulfed in flames and emerged with only half a wing remaining as it spun out of control. Gotcha!

“Nice trickshot,” Radie told her over the comm. 

Dorset grinned - she hadn’t realized she was flying with an audience.

“Wait - incoming left!”

She jerked the stick, gaining altitude and bringing the nose around, but the green lasers ripped through both the front side and left control vanes. The attacking TIE Interceptor raced past her before Dorset could try to get her own lock, then rocked its wings in victory and moved on.

Well, at least that Imp is leaving me alone now. Most wouldn’t.

Dorset wrestled with the controls, bringing her dying A-Wing back around toward the base, and throttled back as it descended. This is gonna be a hard landing - better jettison all my ordnance.  

After tapping a few switches to make sure they were still inert, she pressed the weapon release button specific to the local A-Wings’ design. But the reduced weight pitched her interceptor up and now it was moving with greater speed. Worse, when Dorset tried to activate the flaps, one side jammed and the other ripped away a few moments later. Sithspit!

On the comm, Radie was calling for Y-Wing support on their flank - the Imps had just executed a pincer move with hover-tanks and Chariot LAVs, trading armor for the speed those provided. If it worked, the entire base could be overwhelmed within a couple minutes.

There’s nothing I can do about t, I’m fighting for my own life here. I have to get as close to the base as possible and land - ejecting now means this A-Wing becomes a runaway missile aimed at the shield. I’ll be damned if I let it pull a reverse Crynyd on our people down there.

Dorset fought to keep the wings level the whole way down, struggling to control the throttle at the same time, and finally switched over to repulsorlifts. But the left side’s thrusters didn’t fire, damaged as they were by the TIE Interceptor’s attack, and her A-Wing slammed hard into the dirt on that side. Its nose scythed deep into the ground and then the metal gave way, throwing the inner cockpit shell up into the air. Dorset was glad to have that included for pilot protection, but when it finally bounced against the dirt as well she felt something tear in her wrist and then came a stabbing pain in her side. She hurriedly checked it for bleeding - there wasn’t any, but pushing down along the lowest rib there nearly made her retch. Kriff, is something broken?

Taking a painful breath, Dorset slid away from what was left of her A-Wing and crouched low since the battle was still raging in two nearby directions. She’d known the odds of her, Radie, and Linna all getting through this unscathed weren’t good, but somehow it had never occurred to Dorset that she should really worry about her own survival. 

Well, now I am.

***

She ran despite the pain it brought, listening over her comm headset while Radie’s raspy voice grew increasingly desperate - she was calling X-Wings to help blunt the Imperial advance now. Xg-1 Star Wings and TIE Interceptors had rushed in to support them, and the New Republic’s flank was in danger of collapsing completely. Dorset glanced back to the base and saw troopers hurrying into the transports, all sense of order lost as the shield crackled under laser strikes. 

Their defensive lines were being hammered by more Star Wings, and Dorset watched helplessly as a squad of ground troops fired their rifles into an approaching one in futile defiance before its rocket obliterated their position. The damned Star Wings were so hard to kill, even in a fighter.

One of Verlaine’s Y-Wings rolled in and drew the assault ship away before it could do any more damage, and Dorset breathed a sigh of relief - she’d been worried it might send a few lasers her way. Now I have to keep moving forward, before stormtroopers swarm through the lines.

Dorset sprinted as long as she could, which wasn’t much; stumbled twice over fallen soldiers in her path; and at times had to crawl despite the excruciating pain in her chest and lesser but still significant ache in her wrist. Blaster shots from enemies and friendlies alike scorched through the air overhead, and explosions from mortars and heavier weapons showered her with dirt and debris. But Dorset pressed on toward the GR-75s and the hope of escape as best she could.

“Where the kriff are you, Dors? The transports are about to leave!” Radie shouted on the comm.

Stars no, she thought as realized the troop lines had finished boarding and gasped sharply, then regretted it. 

I’m going to be left behind?

Dorset pulled her blaster and checked the charge, not that she would be very useful fighting in her current state.

“Radie - I’m half a klick out but hurt bad, I don’t think I can make it.”

What’s gonna happen? We’ve already surrendered a bunch of troops to the Imps, including the wounded, so there must be some assumption of safety - as unusual as that is normally. But will I get the medical treatment I need or will they withhold it as an interrogation tactic? What if there’s a forced march and they send us to a labor camp? How will I be punished as a Coruscanti?

I’m barely 21 and probably won’t survive captivity. Dorset sank down behind an overturned tank, watching as the line of AT-ATs closed in with stormtroopers behind them, then closed her eyes. It had started raining again and the late morning sun was back behind the clouds, she realized with a sigh. I won’t even be going out as a pilot, damnit. I’m stuck on the kriffing ground.

Radie’s tough and good at compartmentalizing; she’s already lost so many - her mother, the Bel Iblis children she was friends with, Bria, Ro’aven, probably more that I don’t know about. But it’s going to be tougher on Linna. And what about all the others - Taryn, Lyyr, the Wraiths, Tetengo’s family, Owen? They’ll never know for sure what happened to me either. How will that hurt them?

“Dors, it’s Catalina - we’re coming in hot. Get ready.”

Dorset wearily blinked, then saw the U-Wing swooping in low while firing on the nearest AT-STs. She pulled herself back to her feet, clutching the side of her chest in pain, and limped forward to where the U-Wing had dropped a basket on a hoist line. It wasn’t the most dignified method of salvation, but Dorset had few complaints - not even when the ship rotated around sharply to use its front cannons against fast approaching hover-tanks.

Radie and Commander Verlaine helped her climb inside and stowed the basket, before closing the cabin door so the transport could reach high atmosphere and then space. Verlaine’s right arm was in a sling and she’d tied a scrap of cloth over her bleeding forehead, but she seemed alright and proudly told them Bickey Pellan was flying the Y-Wing that was escorting them out.

Dorset was glad he’d made it, but winced when she saw Mesqi Palaso lying flat in the back with blaster shots through his left shoulder, chest, and right calf - he was still alive but they needed to get him to a medical ship quickly. Her own injuries had to wait, as they didn’t have the tools to scan her lower ribs, but at least Radie helped apply bacta and pain-relieving fluids to the area. 

“Commander Mayn and Linna both made it out, along with everyone we know in Ace Squadron and the Wraiths,” Radie told her as she checked Dorset’s sprained wrist and put a new bandage on her burned palm from the earlier rescue mission. “The Typhoon Squadron X-Wings scattered though, I’m not sure who’s going to reach the rendezvous points at Fedje or Ketaris. And some of the Imps got in with signal jammers before we could set off explosives at the comm center.”

Dorset winced at the news - Catalina was on a course to slip through the Imperial blockade well enough, but their GR-75 transports and the fleet in orbit had a fight on their hands. She wished she could’ve been back up there to help Ace Squadron, Captain Atril Tabanne, and the Wraiths.

Chapter Text

28

They got to Ketaris quickly enough, and Dorset stood aside while a team of medics hurriedly carried Mesqi Palaso away. He’d grown pale and had been coughing throughout their voyage and Dorset wasn’t surprised to see Catalina Paby follow them to the medical ward. Dorset went there as well, somewhat reluctantly, but at least her bed was near a small window out to space.

Dorset fell asleep quickly after that, and when the 2-1B droid woke her it said she’d been out for 15 hours. She’d chipped her lowest rib on the left side and sprained her wrist, so the droid put a bacta patch over that part of her chest and a brace from her forearm to the base of her fingers. 

Peering out the window, Dorset saw they were exiting hyperspace. It looked like the medical ship had dropped out by Ord Mantell to rendezvous with seven Mon Calamari cruisers, though they were too far away to identify a specific type. 

Radie came back to visit her a day later, and brought company - Linna and Commander Mayn, with General Edor Crespin in tow. Dorset did her best to stand at attention quickly, saluting her former squadron leader who was now the head of Starfighter Command, but he waved it off.

“What’s going on?” Dorset asked. “I can tell we’re part of a growing fleet, where’s the target?”

“I can’t say yet,” Crespin replied ruefully. “Operational security and all that. Even if we did get rid of Delta Source while you were gone. But we’ll be at the staging area in 18 hours. Commander, with me.”

Dorset blinked at the terse end to their conversation, watching as Crespin and Mayn talked to each other in private, and then Linna slipped off to speak with the 2-1B droid of all things.

“What’s going on?” Dorset asked Radie in confusion. “They’re not even giving me a chance to plead my case that I’m flightworthy. There’s a big operation in the works, I can help.”

But Radie smiled faintly and patted Dorset’s shoulder. 

“They’re commanders, they have to abide by a medical recommendation. But if you manage to discharge yourself-” Radie glanced back to where Linna was chatting away with the droid while leaning against the wall so it couldn’t return to the medical ward- “then they’ll just assume you’re good to go and give you a spot. It’s better than my plan to pull a blaster on the droid, anyway.”

Dorset grabbed the flightsuit and leather jacket they’d brought her, quickly pulled off the medical gown she’d had to wear aboard the Nebulon-B, dressed, and snuck out after Radie. 

They had to wait to fly their A-Wings back off the Nebulon-B until it dropped out of hyperspace again. General Crespin met them at the entrance of the Star Cruiser’s hangar, and told them they had the next day and a half off to relax after Generis. They were skilled pilots and could prepare for their mission later, so it was more important to pull back from the breaking point. 

The details were still being withheld, but the mission to come involved some kind of shipyard attack. Surprisingly the Wraiths weren’t involved - they’d boarded Swift Liberty to carry out a diversionary exercise and draw Imperial attention elsewhere.

***

After their period of relaxation and recovery on Dorset’s part was over, the pilots reported to a briefing about this mystery operation. 

Squadron leaders sat in the front. Pash Cracken, his hair still colored black from Generis, was talking to Commander Antilles. Varth wasn’t around - he must not have escaped after all.

Dorset sighed, thinking of all they’d lost at Generis and how it still ended with the Imps taking the comm center intact. Not to mention the fleet depots in orbit, though she’d only heard about that from Atril later. And then there was a similar rout that had just taken place at Xa Fel. That planet was a major manufacturing center for Kuat Drive Yards located dangerously close to Coruscant, so she wondered if the shipyard operation was meant to make up for the loss.

In any case, they needed a win badly. Dorset remembered Sector Commander Travia Chan’s words just before the Generis evacuation - the New Republic may not last the next six months under the current pace of war. It certainly felt that way now, but they’d keep fighting to the end.

Admiral Ackbar had taken a position at the central holo table along with General Crix Madine and a brown-haired colonel Dorset didn’t recognize yet. There weren’t many full squadrons in attendance, but their connection to General Crespin had gotten her group access yet again.

“Officers of the New Republic, none of you needs to be reminded that in the past few weeks our war against the remnants of the Empire has changed from what was once called a mopping-up exercise to a battle for our very survival,” Ackbar told them. Dorset winced at how plainly he was describing the situation. She had plenty to fear about surrender as a Coruscanti, but that would be even worse for the non-humans like Ackbar or Lyyr Zatoq over in Rogue Squadron’s section. The Empire might have Thrawn in charge, but its prejudices at the small unit level would remain.

“For the moment, the advantage of resources and personnel is still ours; but even as we speak that advantage is in danger of slipping away. Less tangible but no less serious are the ways in which Grand Admiral Thrawn is seeking to undermine our resolve and morale. It is time for us to throw both aspects of this attack back into the Empire’s face,” Ackbar said.

Radie leaned forward at that, tapping her fingers against her helmet with a hungry expression. 

General Madine was next, and explained how they would need a crystal gravfield trap to clear the blockade of cloaked asteroids that still encircled Coruscant. There were three in Imp hands, he told them, and the newly constructed Ubiqtorate base at Tangrene was the most promising. 

Snickering, Radie whispered raspily that Bel Iblis’ people were the reason the Imps had needed to spend years rebuilding the base in the first place.

“We’ve managed to insert some of our people into the cargo crews, and they report the place is ripe for the taking,” Madine said.

“Sounds a lot like Endor. How can we be sure it isn’t a trap?” Radie blurted out before lowering her voice so only Dorset could hear again. “That wouldn’t be the first time the rebels were lured into hitting an Ubiqtorate ambush.”

“Actually, we’re pretty sure it is. That’s why we’re going here instead,” Madine answered, smiling tightly as he activated the projector to show a planetary schematic of the Bilbringi shipyards. 

“I know what you’re all saying to yourselves - it’s big, it’s well defended, and what in the galaxy is the high command thinking about? The answer is simple: it’s big, it’s well defended, and it’s the last place the Imperials will expect us to hit,” he told the group of pilots. 

“Moreover, if we succeed, we will have severely damaged their shipbuilding capability,” Ackbar said next. “As well as putting to rest the growing belief in Grand Admiral Thrawn’s infallibility.”

There were murmurs in the crowd of pilots about that, some less confident than others.

“The operation will consist of two parts. We certainly don’t want to disappoint the Imperials planning the trap for us at Tangrene, so Colonel Derlin will be in charge of creating the illusion that that system is indeed our target. While he does that, Admiral Ackbar and I will be organizing the actual attack on Bilbringi. Any questions?” Madine asked them.

So that’s what the Wraiths and Commander Bell were sent to do, Dorset thought. Pash Cracken asked what would happen if the Imps missed the Tangrene preparations and were ready for the New Republic forces at Bilbringi instead.

“We’d be most disappointed in them,” Madine replied. The conversation moved into a discussion on a pre-placed Intelligence operative after that, and Dorset noticed when Commander Antilles and Pash Cracken spoke to each other quietly about it. The Wraiths had been detailed to sell the Tangrene angle, but evidently Rogue Squadron had worked with this Bilbringi agent before.

***

Dorset joined the other A-Wing pilots in constant sim runs for the Bilbringi attack while the fleet moved around and then gathered up more squadrons throughout the day before the mission, including a very familiar group of B-Wings. They all went to the hangar to wait for their arrival and Radie smiled slightly at the other two’s clear interest toward one of the bomber wingpairs.

“You look almost as excited as she does,” Radie told Dorset while they watched Linna pacing in front of them. “Is there something you haven’t been telling us about Owen?”

Dorset’s face flushed red - personally she felt apprehensive not excited. “Of course not, but Generis helped me make my mind up. I’m gonna take that offer he made after Sluis Van.”

“Nir!” Linna yelled after he climbed out of his B-Wing, and she jumped into her lover’s arms for a kiss while other members of Ace and Raven squadrons laughed. Dorset moseyed over to Nir’s wingmate in a much more sedate but still deliberate manner.

“It’s good to see they both haven’t changed,” she told Owen in bemusement. “Especially for her, after Generis. We were only there for a few days but it was brutal - all three of us had to fight our way back through enemy lines to the base. You might want to warn Nir in case she starts having nightmares like I did with Selaggis.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” Owen said while patting her shoulder gently. “How are you holding up?”

Dorset smiled and leaned in, rolling her undershirt to show the bacta patch.

“I got shot down and chipped a rib during the evac, but I’m good to fly tomorrow.” 

“I can do other things, too, if you’re interested again…” Dorset added quietly with a sly grin and a wink. “As long as we're careful with the positions, anyway. I know I kinda turned you down last time but I’ve been missing you. It’ll be a good place to start things back and we can talk about where we go next after Bilbringi. The way the war has been lately - it makes you reconsider some choices. And I have to tell you about this cool fighter we stole from some pirates, it flies like a B-Wing.”

Owen flushed red and glanced down at his hands, making her curse mentally. I thought we’d have that out of the way after last time. Shavit.

“There’s something we should talk about,” Owen said quickly, looking anywhere but at her.

“Okay. You’re not a spy are you?”

“What?”

“Just a bad joke, sorry.” 

Dorset giggled to herself as she followed him to an unused corner of the pilots’ briefing room, trying to quell her growing nervousness. 

“I’ve been seeing another pilot in Raven. I wasn’t expecting this, but I thought it was only fair to tell you in person rather than pass it along secondhand during one of Nir and Linna’s holo-calls,” Owen told her reluctantly once they’d sat down.

“Yeah, I thought that was where this might be headed,” Dorset replied as she fought to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Owen’s face took on an even brighter shade of red, and Dorset blinked in confusion.

“It couldn’t be someone I know well. Linna’s spoken for with your wingmate, my friend Taryn on Coruscant has been too busy with mail routes, and Radie - well, it’s definitely not her. Who is it?” 

“When we took on new pilots in Raven Squadron, the leader of Third Flight and I just got along well and one thing led to another. Especially since I was leader of Second Flight and we’d have command meetings together. But… uh, she’s Nera Dantels’ younger sister Tashie, and the two of them look really similar,” Owen said, his face practically crimson now.

Dorset narrowed her eyes this time, perplexed. The Dantels name was familiar - she’d been an early pilot of the B-Wing and wrote the book on a lot of its combat maneuvers. But Dorset didn’t understand why that would be a problem for her, until she remembered seeing the holo of Nera shown on a display at Gorom’s starfighter testing facility.

Wait a kriffing second… if this Tashie looks like her sister then that means she’d also look like-

“Oh,” Dorset muttered forlornly while she glanced rapidly around the room for confirmation and to try to hide the pain in her eyes. There the woman was, talking to Commander Antilles now that he was back from his ground mission to sell the fleet’s Tangrene diversion. 

Tashie had sharp green eyes and long, shiny black hair that fell to mid-back. She was tall and shapely, with tanned skin that probably would’ve been pale normally. Instead of a flightsuit, she wore form-fitting pants, an unzipped white leather jacket with a unit patch of four black and gold squares, and a dark gray shirt which showed her toned midriff beneath. Tashie even had a pair of turquoise crescent moons tattooed between her eyes and nose.

In short, she looked very much like Dorset - but it was clear who was the more attractive one. Where Dorset’s features were plain, something she’d found humorous before but less so now, Tashie’s were exotic and alluring. Well, Dorset’s face was plain aside from the small scars left after her E-Wing crash, but to his credit Owen had taken those in stride before.

Growing up, Dorset had her head in the clouds too much to waste time styling her hair or with makeup - and the fact that it annoyed her parents was a perk as well. They’d tried to get her to look all refined and prepare for a “respectable” career to help them get up the social ladder. But her perpetually disheveled appearance endured long after her parents stopped speaking with her when she enlisted, and now it was backfiring on her. I wanted to be looked at on the merits of my piloting, not some artificial beauty standard. Well I guess I am, and Owen can do better.

Running a hand through her hopelessly mussed black hair and unfurling her sweat-streaked top back down, Dorset forced herself to turn around and meet Owen’s gaze again. At least he was having difficulty with that too, the guilt evident on his face.

“I know what this looks like, but it really did start with how well we got to know each other as flight leaders,” he told her. “I’m sorry, though. Especially with you being injured from Generis. The war wasn’t going well for us either, so it seemed impractical to wait around on a day that might never come and I didn’t expect you would change your mind like this.”

Dorset nodded, blinking through the burning sensation in her eyes and tugging at some of the loose threads in the hem of her well-worn shirt. Tashie’s clothes looked new and expensive, her hair perfectly combed, her makeup immaculate. Not at all like Dorset in those regards. And she had a history with the Rebellion through her sister, while Dorset had grew up on Imperial Center. Of course Owen, being from the Outer Rim, would favor Tashie over someone from Coruscant.

“It’s okay,” she lied - and probably badly at that. “I did say I had no expectation you’d wait for me to make my mind up, after all. It wouldn’t really be fair to get mad about it now.”

Kriff, that was stupid. It’s like Kell all over again, except I actually had a shot this time and I blew it with indecision. For such a fast pilot, I sure can be slow to move outside the cockpit.

Dorset feigned a smile and hopped up. “Besides, it makes sense that you’d connect as B-Wing pilots. Good luck out there tomorrow, for both of you - and enjoy tonight. I should go.”

She wandered off without looking back, slouching into a chair at the makeshift pilots’ bar before remembering they were still on alert status and couldn’t drink at all. Dorset filled her glass with water instead, taking a napkin to wipe some of the sweat from her brow and brush at her eyes.

***

A bit of static filled the room, and Dorset glanced over to where Linna had finished setting up a music system to play a Tanaab waltz that had been her first dance with Owen. Nir hurried over but was too late to stop her, and Dorset laughed bitterly as pilots took to the room’s center.

There was nothing else to do, so she raised her glass toward the table where Tashie had joined Owen and tilted it slightly in defeat. Turning back around, Dorset finished the glass with one long drink and climbed to her feet. Radie was the first to see her go, and pried Linna away to follow.

“What’s wrong?” Linna asked once they were outside the room. “You should be in there dancing with Owen until they kick us out to sleep. Unless you go back to his quarters early, of course.”

Dorset glanced down at her boots, still dirty with yellow Generis mud, wondering how long she could keep doing that before Radie and Linna returned to the room and saw it for themselves. After a few long moments, she looked up to face them and explain what had happened.

“Well, back on Swift Liberty I told Owen not to wait around… and he didn’t. It just would’ve been easier if he found someone who didn’t look so much like me but better, you know? Over there.”

Both of them were shocked as they saw Owen and Tashie dancing, then Radie scooped her up in a hug while Linna looked furious as she stood off to the side. Dorset had expected opposite reactions from them, and chuckled to herself over it.

“I can’t believe Nir didn’t tell me about any of this,” Linna told them, steaming. “I’m gonna have a word with both of them.”

“Wait - Linna, don’t do that. There’s no telling what’ll happen tomorrow; I don’t want you to go and ruin your night on my account too, especially not for something you could regret forever. Have fun with Nir, it’s okay. Besides, this isn’t nearly as bad as Generis felt. I’ll manage.”

Linna looked toward Radie and got a nod from her, then shrugged and walked back over to the dance area after saying she’d see them in the morning. 

“So, what do you want to do?” Radie asked. “Maybe you should focus on getting ready for the battle.”

Dorset grinned. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Let’s take over the sim room, it should be empty right now. Could you slice into the mainframe and see what Tashie Dantels’ scores are?”

“The idea was to take your mind off that completely,” Radie said with a laugh. “But I’d probably do the same thing so why not. After that you really do need to focus, though. Tomorrow’s going to be a major engagement and if you’re distracted you could get vaped easily. It’s not too late to reconsider because of that rib injury, no one would judge you.”

“No - I can handle it,” Dorset replied, glaring slightly as Radie backed off with her hands raised.

“Good then. Truth is I’d considered putting in a request to join Page’s group taking the shipyards if you had still been on the Nebulon-B anyway,” Radie admitted. “I’ll stick with flying for this too.”

***

Radie wasn’t great at slicing, but she knew enough to find simulator results and compare them for both A-Wing and B-Wing pilots. To Dorset’s relief, it confirmed she was better than Dantels.

Then Radie pushed her into a sim pod and began throwing every sort of nightmare scenario at her - swarm attacks by a dozen squadrons of TIE Interceptors; trying to shoot down missiles from an equal number of the Xg-1 Star Wings they encountered at Kemal; fending off over 100 Carrack cruisers designed to engage snubfighters. Though it seemed an unlikely occurrence, Dorset even had to dogfight TIEs from three Super Star Destroyers at once in the final round.

She didn’t do it alone, of course - the sim gave her Radie’s best guess on fleet reinforcements for the mission. But every run had seen them hopelessly outnumbered, and more often than not Dorset would be vaped. So she’d tell Radie to reload the sim and take it again until they could at least find victory in escaping from the ambush.

It was a relentless pace when taken seriously, and by the end Dorset was drenched with sweat. But most importantly, the sims hadn’t given her a moment to think about anything else.

Dorset mopped at her face when she’d climbed out and unzipped her flightsuit, then blinked in surprise that Radie wasn’t around any more.

She didn’t have to wait long, though - Radie came back a couple minutes later carrying a pair of blank white flight helmets, with her old R5 astromech in tow.

“What’s this about?” Dorset asked curiously before drinking some more water to cool down.

“We’re going back into battle tomorrow, so we could use more intimidating designs,” Radie said. Dorset glanced at her own helmet, bearing a checkerboard pattern of blue and red that looked like the old black and gold squadron patch Tashie Dantels had worn, and grinned in agreement.

Taking the new one in her hands, Dorset raised an eyebrow at the more solid nature of it versus their existing ones made largely of molded cloth and leather. It still looked similar, lacking a ridge like X-Wing pilots’ standard helmets, and had the same type of integrated comm system.

“I figured these would work better if we have to eject, especially over land,” Radie told her. “Flat Top here can help paint them, just sketch it out.”

Dorset laughed and glanced at her reflection in the A-Wing simulator’s canopy glass, turning to get a full view of her arm tattoos. Then she began to draw, watching as Radie did the same.

When she was done and Radie’s R5 had dutifully translated the sketch to reality - Dorset found it surprising and humorous the astromech knew how to do that - she pulled on the helmet and examined her own reflection again. It had a blue-billed cormorant painted across the front, with the bill at the center and talons curling out on the panels. The wings, with feathers as black as Dorset’s hair, were also sweeping to the sides and it had pale blue eyes like her own locked in a malevolent stare. The rear of the helmet was black, with a field of stars and FLARE written at the bottom in a teal shade. That was the name Ro’aven had given her so long ago. 

Thinking of an old holofilm she’d snuck into as a child, she added FOR THE FRIENDLY SKIES on each side of the helmet and then stenciled her own first name along the helmet’s front edge.

Radie’s helmet remained white overall, but most of the features were painted in blood-red color. “CORELLIA’S RETRIBUTION” was written at the front with a gray thorn and knife crossed over the letters, and the sides had a clenched and blood-stained fist on each panel. The back simply read FELIAN in arcing gray text, with a broad red line surrounding the letters.

“Very intimidating,” Dorset told her, trying to hide a yawn - all the sim runs had left her wiped.

Radie laughed and smiled. “That’s the idea. Your helmet might make me afraid of avians now. Let’s get some rest, and do try not to think of B-Wings when you dream.”

Dorset glared again and shoved her away as payback while they walked to their quarters.

***

They met in the morning, ate a quick and not particularly appealing breakfast washed down with lots of caf, then reported to the hangar bay where the starfighters awaited. Commander Cracken gave a final description of their plan to take control of the area around Bilbringi’s main shipyard, which the commando teams Radie had considered joining would then assault. With luck, their part of the operation would secure the CGT needed to lift the Coruscant blockade.

Dorset looked around the hangar floor as pilots looked over the fighters’ exterior and exchanged their customary goodbyes, just in case. The Rogues’ X-Wings sat in the front, and she nodded at Myn Donos before giving a reassuring smile to Bickey Pellan. At least Commander Verlaine had recovered enough that she was leading Dauntless and Raven squadrons today.

When Swift Liberty had picked up the Wraiths, the Star Destroyer’s own fighter complement had been transferred over and was now aboard the Star Cruiser Mon Remonda as well. That meant they had Rover Squadron’s Z-95 Headhunters and Gray’s retrofitted TIEs for bomber escort.

Bombers… Dorset couldn’t help herself. Her eyes flicked past Linna and Nir as they hugged and settled wistfully on Owen and Tashie behind them instead for a moment. That could’ve been me.

“Focus on what we’re going into,” Radie admonished gently, and Dorset spun away toward her.

“Thanks - I just need the hyperspace starfield to kick on and that’ll clear my head.”

I’m doing this for my friends and fellow pilots in all the squadrons we’ve got here today, so that the blockade around my home planet - I guess I’ll claim it as my home - can be lifted. It’s for the good of all the galaxy, and we’ll be free of atmospheric constraints this time.

Dorset kept thinking about that as she climbed into her A-Wing, did its pre-flight checks, lifted off, and then watched while Mon Remonda jumped into hyperspace with the rest of the fleet.

Chapter Text

29

They were still seconds away from the intended destination when the blue lines of hyperspace spun away and delivered them right into the jaws of an Imperial trap - Interdictor cruisers had yanked the New Republic fleet into position for encirclement by dozens of Star Destroyers, Katana dreadnaughts, and smaller ships like Lancer frigates.

Dorset closed her eyes, sighing as other A-Wing pilots asked Captain Cracken what to do. They had officially folded into Ace Squadron for the attack, with Commander Mayn in charge of Third Flight. Linna was Ace Ten, with Dorset and Radie as Eleven and Twelve.

But now their plan was worthless and a group of TIE Interceptors broke inbound for their unit and Rogue Squadron.

Kriff! Madine could’ve given us some contingencies, but then again Radie made me run all kinds of drills for this sort of thing last night. I just hope it pays off now. We need to hit the interdictors.

The A-Wings closed on the rear of the TIE formation while its leaders engaged the Rogues, but they quickly pushed through rather than commit to dogfighting a group that might be the 181st.

“Rover Squadron is nearby - can we do an A-Wing Slash now that we’ve cleared the squints?” Linna asked. But Dorset wasn’t sure if it would work with the Headhunters rather than X-Wings.

“They might see us coming, but we can use that to our advantage,” she told the group. “Captain Ried, would it work to have your squadron take point? B-Wing pilots like to brag about how their fighters can go flat and still fly, so let’s stack them in three rows of a flight each behind us. That should hide them from view so they can hit an Interdictor, we’ll likely only get one shot at this.”

“That works for us,” Raven Leader Braylen Stramm answered, and Ried supported it as well.

They formed up, Rover Squadron in the lead with the Aces behind them. Imperial scans would probably be able to detect them, since the Headhunter had a smaller heat signature than the X-Wing and only two S-foils, but that was part of the plan. Hopefully the Imps wouldn’t think to look for the three rows of B-Wing bombers hiding in the rear. This better work, I planned it.

Dorset held her breath while they raced for the Interdictor as fast as the Headhunters could go, which wasn’t much. The dragship’s fighter escort was rising to block their path, and behind it the ship’s quad laser cannons were swiveling to bear. She double-checked her shields’ positioning.

All set to the front for now, and weapons hot. We have to carve an exit for the fleet - losing them would be the deathknell of the New Republic given how much was committed. That’s even more important than if we make it out today. I just wish we had the upper hand like was planned.

“Rover Squadron, break now,” Captain Cracken ordered, and Dorset’s pulse quickened as their Headhunters swung away to reveal the waiting TIEs.

None of the enemy pilots blinked at the first part of their improvised Dual Slash.

Instead the TIE Interceptors in the group charged forward to engage the New Republic fighters away from their capital ship. It was the smart move, and exactly what they were counting on.

The A-Wings stayed on course, even as the squints began firing and the green lasers sparkled against their forward shields. They couldn’t break away without revealing the B-Wings.

But they could shoot back.

Dorset nodded in satisfaction as she watched one of her lasers hull the TIE Interceptor in line opposite her, and then the first wave of enemy fighters swung away to maneuver behind them.

The ruse would be up as soon as they did and saw the B-Wings, so they didn’t wait that long.

“Ace Squadron, split up. Raven, your turn - hit them hard and go for quad cannons first.”

Dorset pulled hard on the stick, looping up as tight as she could. The first flight of B-Wings had sprang to life below her and opened fire on the unsuspecting second wave of inbound TIEs.

That cleared a path for the bombers to move on against the Interdictor while the A-Wings tried to keep the remaining TIEs occupied in their wake. Dorset picked off another Interceptor, then rolled her fighter to pursue a different TIE wingpair and managed to get the one on the right.

She took a hit along the way but it was minor damage - some carbon scoring on the canopy.

By now they’d opened things up enough for Commander Verlaine to bring her unit and another Y-Wing squadron in to help knock out the Interdictor, and Dorset waited a moment to catch her breath before the next group of enemy fighters tried to fill the gap.

***

The rapidly expanding ball of gas and metal behind her meant Dorset had now made ace during this mission, but she didn’t waste time thinking about it. Commander Mayn had been forced to eject yet again, and a pilot in First Flight died when his fighter strayed within range of one of the Interdictor’s remaining laser cannons. The bombers had taken a few losses of their own too.

I came up with the plan and this is the price it took, Dorset thought as she looked away from the burning Interdictor and scanned the panels to see how many fighters they still had out there.

“This is Raven Nine!” a woman yelled over the comm channel. “I’m extravehicular but there’s a TIE Interceptor coming around for a laser run on me. Is anyone close?”

Stars! That’s low even for the Imps. A quick look at her sensors showed the blinking dot for their downed pilot was only a klick away, so Dorset didn’t hesitate. This isn’t happening on my watch. And if they’re doing this here, Commander Mayn probably isn’t safe either. 

She nosed over and slid in front of the B-Wing wreckage, angling her fighter down to maximize the protection its shields offered and prevent her engines from scorching Raven Nine while still being able to keep an eye out for the approaching TIE and target it with her swiveling cannons.

The A-Wing rocked slightly under the squint’s fire and then Dorset hit back with a quick burst to scare it away from the pilot behind her. Seething, she started to chase it but then heard Radie. 

“Wave off, Dors. And don’t worry about Mayn, Catalina’s picking her up with a Rover escort.”

“Wave off? That bastard was going to strafe one of our own!” Dorset replied hotly as the TIE got further away. At least she knew their leader was safe from such murderous behavior now.

“I saw, and once I hunt it down I’ll tear the Imp apart the same way,” Radie answered. “But that’s not your style.”

“Oh,” Dorset said, suddenly feeling queasy as she watched the other A-Wing race off in pursuit. “Be careful then. I’ll hold here for Catalina’s U-Wing.”

***

Radie was back in formation by the time Raven Squadron’s pilot had been retrieved, so Dorset fell in alongside her and counted the number of A-Wings remaining. Still at ten, that’s good.

“Eleven to Ace Leader - what’s the plan, sir?”

“The Rogues have gone on the offensive within the shipyards, hopefully they draw some of the Imperial capital ships back to guard it. We might even get the crystal gravfield trap out of this.”

Dorset blinked in confusion. At best, they have twelve X-Wings. That’s hardly enough for major damage and they’d have no way of ferrying a CGT off either. How big are those anyway?

“They’re alone? I don’t understand… Commander Antilles is good, but no one’s that good.”

“I don’t know all the details, but they have independent support in place to take out a Golan in the process,” Cracken replied.

Huh. Well, I definitely know what Golans look like. I guess Antilles stayed in touch with a few smuggler contacts from when he and the Rogues resigned and liberated Thyferra. Smart, it’s like planting a skifter in the deck. Is the Venture hiding out there? The Terriks versus Thrawn would be an interesting fight to see, given what Radie’s said about them.

“Whoever it is, we’re not leaving them alone in the fight for long. See that Mark II the frigates are hitting? It won’t last long so that’s our entry vector. Hit the burners and let’s go,” he went on.

Dorset pushed her throttle to the max, watching as the Golan in question lost power amid a set of explosions on its left side. Bombers that had been closer to the action rushed onward as well. 

The Empire still had the numerical advantage, but if they could use this to get the CGT and pull out quickly then it would be a worthwhile endeavor despite the New Republic’s mounting losses.

They were sneaking through the exposed gap when the ring of Star Destroyers began to move.

A chill ran down Dorset’s back as she saw one tagged as Stormhawk turning round and heading for hyperspace, abandoning the shipyards. It’s gotta be some trap - are they rigged to explode?

“Ace Squadron - hold 20 klicks out from the yards,” Cracken ordered with similar suspicions.

Dorset braked hard, feeling the familiar jolt as her A-Wing decelerated, and then waited warily as the last of the Star Destroyers exited the system. Other starfighters were joining their ranks as they stood by for orders, followed by small capital ships like Ession Strike. Dorset was glad that Commander Tabanne’s CR90 corvette had made it through the battle as well. 

“We have orders,” Cracken told them finally. “Report damage, then I’ll be sending the fighters in best condition to make a pass over the shipyards in case they have proximity mines activated.”

Dorset gulped - a run like that would be dangerous, but it made sense to send the fastest craft in the fleet. When the time came, she reported only cosmetic damage like Radie and Linna. 

“Good then. You three take Ace Seven and go as quick as you can, be careful.”

They raced along, flying inverted so they could see any large explosives waiting in their path, and when the circular flight around the shipyards was complete Dorset breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks all clear, sir.” Linna reported. “Tell them to send in the assault transports.”

The original plan was for commando teams to board the shipyard and grab the CGT based on information from an undercover New Republic agent, but now they were landing troops to take the entire facility and retrieve their infiltrator in the process. It had ended better than she hoped.

***

Dorset landed her A-Wing alongside Catalina’s ship and staggered out to join Radie and Linna behind the medics, waiting impatiently for word on the condition of the recovered pilots within as Ace and Raven squadrons were joining them. They’d come away with three confirmed dead so far, which was lucky under circumstances, but it still brought back painful memories of Selaggis.

Commander Mayn was first out, clutching her back while limping down the ramp, but she waved off the two medics who hurried to her side. They moved on into the U-Wing and carried Tashie Dantels out next as she wearily gave an “I’m okay” gesture to Owen Nordan.

Those were the only pilots onboard, so the group fell out and began checking on the wingmates of the three who hadn’t made it back. Dorset was relieved she didn’t know any of them.

Instead she, Radie, and Linna followed Commander Mayn out once she was done talking with Captain Cracken - they were all curious why the Imperial formation had collapsed so suddenly. Dorset gingerly took her wrist brace off so she could remove the flight glove underneath, then ran a finger along the wings of the avian on her new helmet design with a smile as they waited.

“This is based on raw intelligence that’s still being vetted so don’t get your hopes too high, but NRI thinks Thrawn is dead,” Mayn told them quietly. “Intercepts called it an internal attack.”

“Wow,” Linna gasped. Radie looked cautiously pleased and Dorset just felt relief. The Imperial offensive that pushed them to the brink had begun with news of the grand admiral and now he was gone. She didn’t care much how it happened as long as it was true.

“Take the next three hours off - but don’t get too comfortable,” Mayn told them. “After this, we’re giving out promotions across Starfighter Command and I’m afraid that calls for dress uniforms. Since I ejected, let me know if there’s anything you think should be included in my report.”

Her gaze fell rather pointedly in Radie’s direction, and Dorset sighed in relief that her wingmate wouldn’t face a court martial for how she’d gone after the TIE that had tried to strafe Dantels.

***

Linna was talking with Nir and Radie was on a holo call with her father when Commander Mayn came by Dorset’s quarters. She hurriedly got to her feet, wishing she’d at least made the bed or hung up her spare uniforms, but Mayn had never been much of a stickler for room cleanliness.

“At ease, Lieutenant. I’ll be telling the others about this later but General Crespin has offered me a staff position at headquarters and I plan to take it. Getting shot down twice in rapid succession sends a message, though the truth is I’d been thinking about this for some time now. You three are all good pilots - it’s been a pleasure to lead but you don’t need me any more. You’ll be fine.”

Dorset was a bit surprised and had a few questions, so she started with the most important one.

“What does this mean as far as us staying together? We aren’t being reassigned out, are we - or are we part of Ace Squadron permanently now?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” Mayn answered with a smile. “You’ll all be part of a new squadron while Pash takes time off to train younger pilots for Ace Squadron. But that is why I’m talking to you first. I remember you weren’t too keen on serving as executive officer back when Polearm Squadron was first created, but would you be interested in the squadron leader role now?”

Dorset had expected that might be where this was going, and took a long moment to think about it. I did come up with the combined A-Wing and B-Wing Slash maneuver at Bilbringi, but it cost three lives and I brought it up as a suggestion rather than an order. Not to mention how I struggled with what to tell Bickey Pellan when he was worried about going back into battle on Generis. 

“I’m flattered, again, but I don’t think it’s for me. The responsibility over Radie and Linna’s lives - not to mention nine other people - isn’t something I want to carry,” Dorset answered. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to take that on unless you were sure. For now, the plan is to send you back to Gorom for final tests on an E-Wing redesign. We already had a number of them built with a stopgap fix for the Tibanna gas problem but it’s not absolute, so that’s where your work will come in. It would take time to find the other pilots to fill out a squadron anyway.”

“I assume I’m not the only choice for squadron leader?” Dorset asked with relief. Radie will likely bring in a few of the Corellian pilots from Bel Iblis’ group, that could be interesting. And it means she’ll stay in Starfighter Command, rather than the commando transfer she’d briefly considered.

“No, I did have a backup - but don’t mention this to her, please. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”  

Dorset blinked in confusion while Commander Mayn activated her comlink. That’s weird, I doubt Radie would care about a thing like that…

“Lieutenant Irarch, could you meet in my office in five minutes? It’s about squadron command.”

Wait, Linna? What?

Chapter Text

30

Dorset had to admit her initial reaction might have been a bit unfair to Linna. She had stepped in to actually help Bickey Pellan with his nerves on Generis, after all, and now that Dorset thought about it there had been a marked change in her attitude upon being shot down and rescued.

Maybe she really did grow up, Dorset thought as the three of them stood under a viewport on Home One and watched the spinning wheel of hyperspace again. It was a peaceful sight. 

They had each been promoted to captain and Linna had gone through the official ceremony to take command of an as yet unnamed unit. General Crespin had participated, though he left after it ended to meet with Admiral Ackbar. Even without Thrawn, there were still warlords out there.

I guess it is for the best that Radie wasn’t put in charge. She’s rather - let’s call it unrestrained - in fighting the enemy, and sending her into the field without oversight could be bad for the New Republic’s image. Plus having the top two pilots fly as wingmates only works for the Rogues.

“I’ve got it!” Linna suddenly blurted out from her place alongside them. “I had forgotten - when I was young, I dreamed of being a singer. I would’ve called the band Linna and the Lightflashes, so that’s what we’ll be named: Lightflash Squadron.”

“She’s a child,” Radie grumbled - though she didn’t mean it. “And we take orders from her now.”

Dorset giggled as she looked down the line at both of them. They’d worn their dress uniforms for the ceremony, but had unbuttoned those jackets to hang loosely with all their various awards. 

“I did get trained by Lieutenant Janson and I turned out alright,” she pointed out to Radie. “Now we just need to find a solidly glum moderating influence on her like Klivian.”

“Maybe you’ll be in luck,” Linna said with an amused snort.

Before they could ask what she meant, a pair of footsteps entered the hallway behind them.

“Were you just promoted as well?” a Corellian-accented voice asked.

They turned in unison, Radie hiding a grin at the sight of the other red-haired woman facing them. If she was bothered by the fact that Areta Bell’s uniform showed she had also moved further up the rank chart recently, she did a good job keeping that from her face.

“Admiral? I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Radie said. Dorset and Linna both stayed back a half step so Radie would be the center of Bell’s attention, even as they knew it was likely a fool’s errand. Hopefully she realized that as well - her earlier comments had suggested as much.

“Well, we had been at Tangrene but once it became clear the Imps weren’t taking the bait we left to try and reinforce the fleet here,” Bell explained. “Of course the battle was over by then.”

“I’m sure it’s the thought that counts,” Radie told her with a smile. Dorset resisted the urge to roll her eyes and flicked a glance over toward Linna to make sure she was keeping quiet.

“Anyway, are you headed to the fleet celebrations back on Coruscant?” Radie was asking now.

“No - I’ll be taking Swift Liberty back out for the next mission so I want to make sure everything is squared away first,” Bell answered. “I can’t say where we’re going but we’ll work with Rogue Squadron this time, I’m looking forward to that. I haven’t seen Wedge since we were still lowly officers on Hoth, now we each have flag rank - Ackbar finally got him to take a general’s bars.”

Her blue eyes sparkled while she spoke, and Radie sighed in vexation after Bell said goodbye.

“Was it just me or did it seem like she has a thing for Antilles?” she muttered to the other pilots. “It’s one of the Corellian Rogues instead again.”

“Yeah, it sounded that way,” Linna answered in a sympathetic tone. “There’s a good chance she never even thought of you like that, so there’s nothing more you could’ve done.”

“I know, it’s not like we ever got anywhere near the level of Dors and Owen - no offense,” Radie told them absent-mindedly. “More like when she was into Kell after Folor.”

Dorset froze up as the words hung in the air like a proton torpedo, poised to ignite, and shot an angry glare Radie’s way. She realized what had happened a split-second later, looking horrified.

They waited - hoping Linna was too distracted with something, anything, to have paid attention.

Then their new squadron commander turned to face them, her wide lips growing into a smile.

“What’s that about Dors and Kell? And I’m in charge now, so you have to tell me. It’s an order.”

***

Dorset endured Linna’s ribbing throughout the rest of the trip to Coruscant, though she did get serious enough to promise nothing would be revealed to Kell or Tyria. Dorset was over Kell and working to move past Owen as well, but she didn’t want to make it awkward for the Wraiths. At least Tyria could only sense surface feelings rather than reading full thoughts through the Force.

A shuttle took them down planetside into Sivantlie Base where Starfighter Command would hold an overall celebration in a few hours, with members of Rogue Squadron and their friends having their own more exclusive gathering on an upper level of the building.

But first Linna said there was someone she wanted them to meet.

“Dors will find her hair amusing and Radie will enjoy her temperament - I hope,” Linna explained while they waited outside the hangar. Dorset nodded along, fiddling with the sleeves of her coat. Since this mystery woman was in line to be the squadron executive officer, Linna had convinced them to wear that part of their dress uniform over their flightsuits rather than the dreaded full set.

“There she is,” Linna told them as she pointed to where the pilot had climbed from her black and off-white A-Wing and was walking through the crowded hangar with a rather grumpy expression. More than one pilot hastily got out of her way when they saw it.

“Varth had a fit when he first saw her, especially since that is her real hair. She had to prove it.”

“I see what you meant about it being amusing - know any guys like that?” Dorset asked quietly. Radie burst out laughing, then coughed as she tried to regain a neutral appearance.

The hair in question spanned multiple shades of blue and green and fell just past her shoulders. No wonder Varth questioned if it was the natural color. Her eye color was also unusual - light violet with flecks of amber. She hugged Linna, then turned to Dorset and Radie and smiled.

The woman’s flightsuit was beige with a white patch carrying a black triangle in the center, and she wore an orange scarf as well. Her helmet had a light gray base color, with another large black triangle painted on the left side. The right half carried “Forn-Forn” letters painted in beige.

“I’m Rora Hemaki, but everyone calls me Aurora for some reason,” she told them while she ran a hand through her hair in explanation. “I was commanding Spike Squadron - our A-Wings carry enhanced sensor pods. We got tasked with destroying Imperial listening posts and relay stations during the Thrawn offensive. It’s good to meet you; I wanted to make my own first impressions since Linna can embellish but I’ve heard a lot about you both. Thanks for keeping an eye on her throughout the past few years.”

“Usually Linna needed two of them,” Dorset answered with a laugh. She’d heard of Spike; the rumor mill said they had helped eliminate a Black Sun vigo last year. “You’re a Feral Ferret?”

Aurora smiled broadly and nodded. “Yes - we were even further behind the lines than you three, with just a YT-1300 for refueling support and to carry our inflatable dome tents and food. It sure is good to be back in civilization now, all that had me even missing life on Generis.”

Linna chuckled most of all and threw an arm back around Aurora’s shoulders then tapped her brevet captain rank. “Back when we were both in Ace Squadron, we were known as ‘Silly and Sour.’ You can probably guess who’s who. I always knew you’d make squadron leader as well.”

Aurora frowned slightly again. 

“Well, we lost our first leader and someone had to step up to take his place. I think I liked being the second-in-command more despite all the extra paperwork,” she told them while pulling out a cigarra and looking toward Radie and Dorset. “Mind if I have this to celebrate Thrawn’s death?”

“I don’t care as long as you share it,” Radie answered quickly while looking at Aurora’s scarf. “That means you’re Pathfinder certified, right?”

They had spent nearly half an hour talking about their battles against the grand admiral’s forces, as well as Zsinj and Isard before him, when Radie had a sudden flash of recognition.

“Hemaki - are you from Kuat? My dad went through flight training with a guy by that name back at the start of the Clone Wars. He’s from there, but I prefer my Corellian roots,” Radie said. “My parents both joined Bel Iblis’ outfit after that war and I was in it for a bit before enlisting here.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m Kuati - my mom’s from Baroli, thankfully, because I’m not interested in all that telbun nonsense either,” Aurora replied as she shared an amused expression with Linna. “But yeah, that was my father. He was in the Kuati defense forces before he met mom. I had a pretty good idea you were Hirakyl’s daughter when Linna first mentioned you as part of the squadron.”

Well that makes a bit of sense - Kuat grouped flight classes by their last name, Dorset thought.

“Hold on!” Linna was exclaiming from alongside them. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Aurora smiled teasingly at her former wingmate. “I figured since you didn’t know, that might be something Radie was keeping secret. Especially given the rumors about her father’s Corellian service after the Empire formed and the whole Bel Iblis situation back before Thrawn.”

Now Radie was grinning with appreciation. “Thanks for keeping it to yourself, I only told Linna and Dors about all that recently once he and Mon Mothma reconciled. Guess I owe you one.”

Aurora smirked before shrugging good-naturedly while checking her chrono. “If the others don’t mind finishing this conversation later, you can come buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

Radie’s left eyebrow raised in surprise and a silent but eager question, as Aurora gave a sly nod back to confirm what she meant by that.

Dorset shooed them away, feeling amused by how quickly it had developed - so much for her interest in Admiral Bell - before seeing the satisfied expression Linna now wore.

“Did you plan on that happening?” she asked as they watched the two head for Sivantlie’s bar.

“I can’t confirm or deny anything,” Linna answered coyly. “Ok - yes, but I didn’t know they had a connection already. Now I’m the sour one. Radie will like that part of her personality, though.”

***

“So, how’d that drink go?” Dorset asked Radie as they stood at a table in the celebratory party and watched Linna introduce Aurora to Nir. Radie may have even more of a type than Owen.

“It was nice,” she replied with a faint smile. “Aurora must be a great pilot to have survived what she was doing and take charge of the others. You have to be self-reliant for that mission - I can relate to that with what I did for General Bel Iblis, even if I haven’t told her about all of it yet. Plus it’s always good to have another person who can put up with Linna’s eccentricities.”

They both laughed at that, and then glanced over as the lights dimmed into an artificial starlight on the ceiling and music began to play. Runt Ekwesh seemed to be responsible for all that, and was ushering fellow Wraiths to the center of the room.

“How do I look?” Radie asked, fidgeting with her gold tunic. Dorset recognized it as one Ro’aven had gotten back on Coruscant so long ago. As usual, Dorset was wearing a teal shirt, dark blue pants, and a leather jacket herself. Linna also wore gold - a dress that shimmered under the starlights - while Aurora had on violet clothes that matched her eyes.

“The color goes well with your hair. I’ll get some more drinks,” Dorset said after she finished her glass. “But I expect you to be gone when I return, or at least talking to Aurora again.”

Dorset laughed to herself as she refilled their cups with more Whyren’s Standard, then turned at the sound of someone coughing slightly behind her.

“Captain - I didn’t get the chance to thank you for what you did back at Bilbringi,” Tashie Dantels told her. They were no décor during the party, but the B-Wing pilot still stood nearly at attention.

Dorset nodded, not quite used to her new rank, and shifted uncomfortably at the gratitude more than anything else. She had to look up as well - Tashie was taller than her by a few centimeters, making her the perfect height for Owen to kiss.

“Of course. It’s what we’d all do, right?”

“Right. I just wanted to say that for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry about how things turned out with you and Owen. We figured your interest would’ve faded away with everything going on.”

Dorset could feel her face burning, and she fought off a wince. 

“Look - when I talked to him before Bilbringi, I’d nearly been killed or left behind on Generis. I didn’t know you and him were…” her voice trailed off and she took a long drink. At least we’re finally not on alert duty any more.

“It’s okay - I get it,” Tashie replied kindly. “Battles have a way of narrowing your mind; my sister had an experience like that right before Yavin and it stuck with her. That’s where the design of Duster’s unit patch came from. Anyway, I’ve heard about you - word is you’re a good pilot and loyal. We’d both like to have you as a friend still, if you’re willing. I understand if you aren’t.”

Dorset didn’t know what to say. It was a nice gesture, even if looking over to where Owen was watching their conversation curiously stung a bit. 

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for that just yet. Don’t hold back from dancing on my account though, you earned it. I'll probably come around in a few weeks.”

Tashie nodded and walked back to Owen, taking his hand while they moved over to where the others all circled around under the lights. Dorset glanced past them and saw Radie was headed in with Aurora, while Linna and Nir were already dancing. More of the Wraiths followed as well, and Myn Donos was talking to Face about how he wished he could’ve made it onto Corellia for some time off before the Rogues were sent back out for a mission against one of the warlords. 

“Are you not interested in dancing, or is there anything more we can do?” someone asked from Dorset’s left this time. She looked up at Hohass “Runt” Ekwesh and smiled wanly. 

“That’s an arena I haven’t had much luck with lately, sometimes it’s better not to take off at all. But good work setting all this up.”

“We did this for the Wraiths during the Zsinj hunt - we’re glad that this was more of a celebratory occasion than that time. Well, it seems Piggy needs our assistance.”

Dorset glanced over and stifled a laugh as she saw the Gamorrean fending off Elassar Targon’s attempts to wrap his tusks in what appeared to be gold leaf. Shalla and Kell were placing bets.

Not even an Intelligence transfer got the Wraiths to change.

Dorset sipped at her Whyren’s and turned her eyes back to the artificial night sky on the ceiling, already dreaming of the day she could get back out into the real thing and just explore.

I’d rather be dancing on air in my A-Wing anyway. That’s where I belong.

The New Republic had just withstood one of its greatest threats, even if the Imps still had their cloning tanks and most of the Katana dreadnaughts.

But unlike after Selaggis, all of Dorset’s friends were alive and together.

We’re happy, they have bright things on the horizon, and I’ll be doing my part getting the E-Wing ready for operational service. This is enough for me.