By Alan B. Pechman
Chapter Six
Elyhek Rue brought his X-wing about on an intercept with the incoming ships.
Although their transponders, or IFF beacons, indicated they were X-wings and a
small Rendili Pliant-class freighter, he took no chances. He reached over his
head and activated his S-foils, splitting the wings of his fighter into the
distinctive shape that gave the X-wing their name. He then switched his scanners
over to active status and immediately brought up the incoming starship's
identities on his display.
The three X-wings were Red Two, Red Three, and Red Six. Rue's perpetual scowl
deepened. This was bad. There was supposed to be another X-wing designated Red
Four. He cycled his scanners again to be sure they were operating optimally.
They were. The Pliant-class freighter registered as the Starduster. Everything
checked out according to the log that his R5 unit flashed up on his display,
except for the missing X-wing. According to procedure, he was to hail the
incoming ships, which he did.
"Incoming vessels," he said in his somber tenor voice. "This is Alliance X-wing
Red Seven requesting you identify yourselves immediately." He reached over and
allocated more power to his forward shields, which was also procedure. His
fighter was approaching on an intercept course from their starboard side that
would put him in torpedo range in 10 seconds. Rue armed his proton torpedoes,
setting them to single action firing solutions. He angled his targeting recticle
three degrees above the incoming fighter's plane of flight as per regulations
and waited for their response. He didn't have to wait long.
"This is Red Two. We are escorting the freighter Starduster to Base One, Red
Seven." Rue noted Antilles normally enthusiastic tone was more subdued than
normal. He felt a tightening in his chest.
Rue switched his shields back to balanced settings, powering his fore and aft
shields evenly, and powered his weapons down. He hung his fighter on its
starboard wing and slid precisely into formation next to Red Two. "Red Two,
please confirm your flight's status." He dreaded the answer that he had surmised
so far.
He could hear it in Wedge's voice. "Red Four was destroyed." There was a pause.
When he resumed, Rue could hear Wedge fighting back the tears. "Doc saved us
Ely. If it wasn't for her we would never have made it out of there."
Rue slammed his gloved hand into the side of his cockpit. This was bad indeed.
Contrary to his orders, he decided to inform them of the latest news. "I'm
afraid things are pretty bad here too, Wedge."
In the cockpit of Red Three, Biggs Darklighter raised an eyebrow. Elyhek Rue was
a textfile pilot and he knew that what the man had to say had to be pretty bad
if he was willing to talk about it on an open comm channel.
"It seems the Empire has a new weapon of some kind. Reports are sketchy, but the
news is dire." Rue thought hard on how he had to phrase his next words. They
would be as unsettling to them as they still were to him.
Jek Porkins looked over at Red Seven's fighter. From the little he knew of Rue
meant that this silence was the man's way of best phrasing his words as to
convey their meaning to the fullest. What Rue said next wasn't anything neither
he nor the other pilots could have ever imagined.
"It seems that as of two days ago, the planet of Alderaan was utterly destroyed.
There are no known survivors. This weapon the Empire possesses is believed
responsible. Four pilots of Red Squadron were suspected to be planetside when
the planet was destroyed."
"Papa?"
Biggs could hear the pain in Wedge's voice. He knew how much Papa Galaman had
meant to him.
"I'm sorry Wedge. I am truly sorry." Rue brought his fighter about on the
heading that would take them into the authorized inbound approach vector. He
noticed Wedge's fighter jerking on its course change almost mechanically. He
knew it was time to hail the main base. Failure to do so would scramble the
base's fighters.
"Red Two to Yavin Four Base. We've got fourteen fresh eggs for delivery."
Wedge's voice almost seemed jovial. Biggs knew that the young Corellian pilot
must have went into shock, denial, or both upon hearing the news and had shut
that part of him off.
"We read you, Red Two. You're just in time."
Rue heard the exchange of pass codes and knew they were clear to land. He also
wondered at Wedge's change of voice and just hoped he would recover. He had the
distinct feeling that the days ahead were going to be very critical to the
Alliance's survival and having its pilots at peak efficiency would be essential.
Wedge sat alone in the silence of Papa's quarters. Outside he could hear the
muffled sound of the rain as it fell from the heavens, aptly reflecting his
mood. In his hands he held a frame that had a holo of Papa and his wife Grayse
from their last time together some six months ago when he was on leave. His
heart ached as he looked around at the other photos scattered around the room.
All told he counted 14 grandchildren and six adult children. All of them
orphaned, he thought.
When Wedge first came to the Rebel Headquarters five months ago, Papa Galaman
had taken him under his wing immediately and became the father figure that was
missing in his life. His own father and mother had been killed not too terribly
long before he joined the Rebellion and their loss had hurt him badly. Now Papa
was gone and something had snapped inside of him. He couldn't quite spell it out
but he knew it would come to him eventually.
He put the picture in the packing box and continued putting personal effects in
it until it was full. He opened the next box up and continued filling it with
the various awards and medals Papa had gotten over the years. Some were of Clone
War vintage.
Wedge had heard from someone that when the Old Republic had still existed that
Papa was a highly decorated officer in its military. With the rise of the
Empire, Papa, like many others now in the Rebel Alliance, had renounced their
commitments to the military and had joined the fledging movement to thwart the
Emperor's New Order.
And now it was all over for Papa. Forever.
Wedge wasn't naïve enough to think he wouldn't lose friends fighting for what he
believed in, but he hadn't realized how many friends he would lose and how fast
he would lose them. Until Doc and Boon died his squadron hadn't lost anyone
during his brief tenure. A pilot named Behlix had died right before he joined
and wasn't replaced until recently. He knew a lot of that had to do with the
ever-increasing amount of high-risk missions the Alliance was undertaking.
When his flight had landed and they were debriefed, he was horrified by the news
of Alderaan's destruction. Apparently key leaders of the Alliance had also died
there in addition to the four pilots of Red Squadron.
They were told that the four pilots, Papa, Amil Karsk, Glehn Starkhi, and Aimes
Norax were escorting a Corellian Blockade Runner called the Tantive IV, which
was the personal consular ship of the Royal House of Alderaan. Princess Leia
Organa was on board on a mission to secure stolen plans for the new superweapon
that the Empire built, called the Death Star. They were then supposed to
intercept the plans and go to Alderaan with them to pick up the Princess'
father, Bail Organa, who was the Viceroy of Alderaan. As far as anyone knew the
Tantive IV did have the plans and went to ground on Alderaan when the Death Star
showed up. Somehow it had destroyed the planet in its entirety.
The thought of a weapon so powerful had shaken the Rebels badly. Losing key
leaders did not help much either.
"Hey, are you alright?"
Wedge looked up. In the doorway stood Biggs and Piggy. "Uh, yeah, sure. I was
just finishing up here. What's the latest?"
Both pilots entered the room. Biggs picked up a holo out of a box while Piggy
took a seat next to Wedge on the cot. The large man wrapped an arm around him,
laying a hand on his shoulder. "We saw the replacement pilots come in a few
minutes ago. It looks like we're at full strength, operationally. I heard we're
getting another X-wing squadron from somewhere in here soon. Seems like the
command staff is prepping for a strike at that new weapon of the Empire's. Thing
is though, no one even knows what it looks like, let alone where it is."
"Well, wherever it is, it can't hide for too long. And when we find it we'll be
sure and send it to hell for Doc, Papa and the others!"
Biggs put the holo down and walked over to the doorway, leaning up against the
side of it. "You sound like you're wanting to take that thing on yourself,
Wedge."
"You bet I am. You know, when I heard about Papa, something inside of me just
snapped." Wedge got up and grabbed the lid to the last box. He placed it on and
locked down the hasps to secure it. "I'm not sure what, though."
"I think I might." Piggy looked off into the distance, eyes glazed. "When I used
to hunt sink crabs back home on Bestine, I thought my life was carefree. Then
the Empire came and wanted to establish a base there. The council said no to
them and in response, a Star Destroyer leveled Beachhead Cove as an example to
what the Empire would do next if we continued to deny them. Needless to say the
council acquiesced."
"That sounds pretty bad, I'm sorry to hear that."
Piggy looked right at Wedge. "Thanks, but that wasn't what made me snap."
"No?"
"No. What made me snap," Piggy drew a deep breath and looked away for a moment.
When he looked back, Wedge saw a smoldering rage in Piggy's brown eyes that he
equated in his heart about his own hatred for Loka Hask, the man who killed his
own parents. And then he understood. "What made me snap was that my whole family
was roasted alive by the Empire at Beachhead Cove. Whenever I see a TIE fighter
or anything else of the Empire's I feel a rage inside of me that wants to burst
out like a summer typhoon over the 'Cove. I want revenge."
Wedge slowly nodded his head. That was what he felt. That and betrayal.
"I think you'll get it. Both of you." Biggs said.
"Darklighter, are you boys through in here?"
Biggs turned and saluted. The other two pilots rose and followed suit. "As you
were boys." Garven squeezed past Biggs into the Papa's ever crowded quarters.
"Good, I see you are about done here. We have a briefing with the new pilots in
three hours. You're all required to attend."
"Who are they, Dave?"
Garven frowned at Biggs. He looked at the other two pilots. They didn't have the
usual smirks on their faces at Biggs' mention of that nickname. "Look, I know
it's hard and all to lose friends like we just did. Believe me, I lost my fair
share over the years and losing Papa really hurts. But you have to remember that
they died fighting for what they knew was right. And they died knowing full well
that at anytime they would be asked to give the ultimate sacrifice in doing just
that."
"That doesn't mean we have to like it." Wedge said with more venom then he
realized.
Garven looked at the young pilot and nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more,
Wedge. Biggs, why don't you join those two and plant your seats on that cot.
Close the door, too."
Biggs did so and joined Wedge and Piggy on the cot.
Garven planted his hands on his hips looking at each in turn. "I don't think I
need to tell you three that I have been at this for a very long time. As a
matter of fact, I've lost a son to this fighting and I gotta say that must've
been the worst of it. When that happened a big part of who I was died then and
there as he got vaped off my wing." He started to pace back and forth in the
cramped quarters. The three young pilots looked at each other when they heard
Garven's revelation about his son. "Not only did I lose him, but I lost my wife
as well." He turned and faced them again. "The thought of losing him put the
blame of his death on my shoulders, and, maybe in a way she was right. But
because he died meant that I had to carry on the fight even more because to not
do so would be to have let him die in vain."
"So what'd she do?" Wedge asked.
"Oh, well, she left me of course." Looking down at his feet he said, "I think it
was not only his death but the thought of losing me as well is what drove her
away. Anyhow, I've said my peace here and I know it won't really change things
but know this: Whatever the Empire did to Alderaan is just the beginning. And I
have a funny feeling that if that superweapon of theirs comes calling here we
had better stop it or there will be billions more lives in the balance."
"All the more reason to make it go boom then, sir."
"You certainly have a way with words, don't you, Darklighter?"
"I sure do, Dave."
It was early morning and the sounds of the morning reverie didn't seem to pacify
Garven Dreis this day. He had awoken early and got ready for action. He didn't
know what specific action, but he was ready just the same. He had heard his
mother say once that his great aunt twice removed had husband who was a Jedi
Knight and wondered if somehow he could do some of the things the propagandists
of the Empire said they could do.
A buzz at his belt broke him from his thoughts. He reached down to his waist and
took the comlink from his belt. He held it to his mouth and thumbed it on.
"Dreis here."
"Garven, this is Theron." His longtime friend's voice sounded tinny to his ears.
"General Dodonna just called an emergency meeting."
Garven dumped the rest of his caf on the ground and started back into the main
hanger. "Really? Did he say what it was about?" Even before Theron Nett answered
he knew what it had to be. He was partially correct.
"Seems the Princess is alive after all but she's incoming in a small tramp
freighter."
"How soon till she gets here." He broke into a jog.
"Not long."
Garven Dreis, Theron Nett, Dutch Vander, and Pops Krail sat in the main briefing
room as the Alliance leadership assembled. Jan Dodonna was in quiet conversation
with his staff when the chamber doors opened. Garven turned to look at who it
was and caught his breath. Looking a bit ragged around the eyes but with an air
of command, strode Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. She wasn't a tall woman but
she seemed to carry herself with a well-practiced authority that filled the
entire room. She was not alone.
Her companions were not what Garven would imagine her retinue of choice would
be, but these were hard times and judging by some of their appearances, her
escort seemed capable.
First was a human male of a little above average height and build. His mop of
brown hair framed a somewhat roguishly handsome face topped off by intense brown
eyes. He had on a rough looking white shirt and black vest and wore black pants
with a red Corellian bloodstripe down the sides. His gun belt was well worn and
he looked like a man who was very capable with his blaster. He even had the
swagger to match the cockiness in his eyes.
Behind him lumbered a large brown haired Wookiee with a bandoleer of energy
clips for the deadly looking bowcaster he toted. His bright blue eyes darted
around nervously as if taking in all sights and determining their threat rating.
Next was a wide-eyed, sandy haired youth dressed in a homespun white tunic, tan
pants and leggings. He seemed out of place in this Princess' retinue. He was
armed with what appeared to be a standard issue Imperial blaster carbine and
what looked like a lightsaber. Garven knew the Jedi were extinct and hadn't seen
one of their weapons in a very long time. Something about the youth was familiar
too, but Garven couldn't place it.
A battered golden protocol droid and astromech R2 unit followed the group. They
followed closely on the lad's heels.
The Princess shared a few words with Jan Dodonna before turning to face the
assembled members of the Alliance. "I'm afraid there isn't much time to divulge
many details, but suffice it to say that we are all in very grave danger. As we
speak, I fear the Empire is on its way here with a new superweapon called the
Death Star. The data contained in that R2 unit, I believe and hope, is vital to
the survival of not only the Alliance, but to countless billions who would be
made hostage by this, the Emperor's weapon.
"As many of you may know, I was on a secret mission that was to receive the
stolen plans for this Death Star. My ship and its convoy of X-wing fighters were
ambushed over Topwara. Darth Vader's personal Star Destroyer Devastator jumped
in system as we completed the secret plan's transmission transfer from the
planet. Unfortunately, most of the escorting fighters were destroyed trying to
delay the Destroyer long enough for us to flee. Realizing this, I sent the
remaining X-wing to Alderaan to inform my father of the mission's fate.
"We managed to make it to the Tatooine system where I was to contact the Jedi
Knight Obi-wan Kenobi and enlist his aid in our fight. Alas, Vader caught us
there and I was captured. It appeared to me that all was lost, especially as I
was taken by Vader to the Death Star itself. I was forced to watch as Grand Moff
Tarkin ordered the destruction of Alderaan." She seemed to pause to compose
herself. When she continued, her eyes never left her escort. It was obvious the
older of the two men was uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
"Somehow, some way, these brave men, Wookiee, and droids, along with Obi-wan
Kenobi, came to my rescue and freed me from the Death Star. Unfortunately, Darth
Vader struck down General Kenobi during our escape. His ultimate sacrifice was
what gave us enough time to flee the station." She paused to look at the
assemblage of Alliance leaders. "Our only hope at this time is that we can
ascertain a weakness to this battle station, and destroy it. I realize how
daunting a task that may seem but we have no real choice."
Jan Dodonna approached and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Obviously,
there is much we need to do right now and I wanted all of you here to hear this
dire news. Until we know much more about this Death Star, I am going to ask that
we not discuss this with any of the troops. I feel confident that we will
unravel the details of this weapon and as soon as we know more, we will fully
brief everyone. That is all for now."
Garven exchanged glances with Theron, Dutch, and Pops. As they all rose to leave
Garven tapped Theron's arm. "You all go on ahead, I'll only be a moment."
The other pilots nodded as Garven worked his way up to the knot of people around
Princess Leia. He gently pushed his way closer until he was face to face with
her and General Dodonna. "Excuse me, Princess?"
She looked up at him with her cool brown eyes. "Yes, Captain?"
He nodded. "I'm Garven Dreis, Princess. Those were my men acting as your escort.
If I may, I just have a few questions."
She seemed to withdraw a bit but she nodded in return. "Of course, Captain." He
noticed it had grown very quiet as he spoke.
"Just for the record and all, I was wondering about a few details so I could
better complete my, uh, reports." He felt a lump forming in his throat. "I guess
I was wondering which pilot was the survivor from Toprawa who went on to
Alderaan?"
She laid a hand on his arm. "Let me just say, Captain, that if it weren't for
the delaying action by your brave pilots, Darth Vader surely would have captured
me at Topwara. Two full squadrons of TIE fighters were assaulting us as the Star
Destroyer approached. Quite frankly, I thought all was lost then and there.
Those pilots were the difference. When we managed to break away, two of them
were left. I sent Flight Officer Karsk to Alderaan as we prepared our jump to
lightspeed. The other pilot, Lieutenant Galaman, turned and fended off at least
a dozen enemy fighters. I am deeply indebted to their bravery, Captain."
Garven swallowed hard. "Thank you, Princess, I really appreciate you taking the
time." He nodded again and turned away. Standing a few feet away were Theron,
Dutch and Pops. He had thought they had left but apparently they didn't. As he
walked past them he said grimly, "I swear we're gonna make them pay."
Garven shut the datapad down and sat back. He reached up and rubbed his tired
eyes, trying to coax himself to stay awake. The glow panels in his room were
turned down low, reflecting his optimism at the current situation. He felt
saddened by having to write the words of condolence that seemed to becoming more
common these days.
He started to get angry at his feeling sorry for himself. Yes things were dire
but it didn't mean they were finished fighting. He reminded himself that because
times were so difficult was all the more reason to carry on the fight. Afterall,
if the Alliance failed, how many more people would die under the Death Star's
guns?
He got up and left his room. He walked towards the hanger, nodding at those who
hailed him, but he didn't stop. He reached his destination and took in the
sights and sounds. What always amazed him was the constant high state of
activity there. Techs were constantly busy trying to keep the hodgepodge
assortment of Alliance fighters flying.
He stepped over to his own scarred fighter. He ran a hand over the fuselage with
its pock marks and burn scars from countless skirmishes with the Empire. As he
rounded the aft end of the fighter, he spotted Theron Nett coming his way
talking with a medical officer.
"What is it, Theron?"
"Bad news I'm afraid. Remember that pilot in Dutch's squadron that couldn't fly
the other day because he got sick?" When Garven nodded, he continued. "Well,
they say its Hesken fever."
"That bad, huh?"
"That and the new kid Janson has it now, too."
Garven crossed his arms, shaking his head. "As if we need this right now. What
do we do now?"
The medical officer answered. "Well, sir, there isn't a whole lot to do except
let it run it's course and limit exposure to the infected individuals. I'd like
to conduct complete physicals on all the pilots, if I may."
"No."
"No?"
"What part of no didn't you get?" Garven stepped a little closer and lowered his
voice. "Look, I know how bad that sickness is, but let me tell you this: I don't
want our pilots worrying about this right now. That's all I can say at this time
but trust me, you'll understand what I mean by the end of today, okay?"
"Yes sir."
"Dismissed."
Theron and Garven watched the medical officer walk away. "Well, there is a
little bit of good news, Garven."
Garven arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Those people that came in with the Princess, they're all pilots."
"Really? I don't think we could fit a Wookiee in an X-wing."
Theron smiled. "No. Actually, I don't really see him or the dark haired guy
hanging around too long. I heard they're smugglers who were hired by General
Kenobi to bring him and the boy to Alderaan."
"Really now? How'd you find that out?"
"I have my sources, Garven. That young kid, though, is supposedly a Skywalker."
Garven turned his head and looked at his longtime friend. He hadn't heard that
name in a very long time. "Is that right? I wonder if he's related to General
Skywalker. You know, I never did see a pilot who was better than he was. He was
something else, boy. If that kid is his son then he has one helluva talent base
to draw from, I'm sure."
"So I understand. I wonder whatever happened to the General though."
Garven frowned. "I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I don't ever
remember hearing what ever happened to him." He shrugged. "I'm sure if he were
alive, though, he'd be here."
"Well, I've got to go and get some of the new pilots situated, you know, fighter
assignments and such, and then I'll report back to you, okay?"
"Sure, got any names?"
"I certainly do." Theron took out his datapad from a pouch in his vest. The
solemn pilot activated it and scrolled through menus until he found the correct
file. "John Drambinian-"
"That's too long."
"What, Drambinian?"
"Yeah, see if he doesn't have a nickname or something, I can't pronounce
Drambawhatever."
Theron chuckled and made a notation on the datapad. "Okay, so there's
Drambinian, Bren Quersey, Lieutenant Barrs Naytaan, Wenton Chan, and Captain
Bennington Narra."
Garven knit his eyebrows. He wasn't sure he heard the last person's name and
rank correctly. "Did you say Captain?" He folded his arms across his chest.
"I did, and I understand that you are still in command, Garven." Theron
deactivated his datapad and stowed it in his vest. The two began walking towards
their quarters. "I don't think it's as bad as it sounds, though. With the
impending attack they figure they ought to throw as many available pilots into
the fray as possible. I understand that his last squadron, or what's left of it,
is being reassigned all over the Alliance to shore up under-strength units, ours
included. He'll probably get command of the next squadron that comes through,
I'd imagine."
Garven studied his friend for a moment. "Or he's taking my job."
"You kidding?" Theron stopped. "No one's taking your job, Garven."
Garven turned to look back at the hanger. He sighed and placed his hands on his
hips. He counted 30 fighters, 12 of which were X-wings. His X-wings. The rest
were Y-wings. He thought of what the Princess said. "Yeah, well, with this Death
Star on the way who'd want my job anyway?"