The gas giant was barely rising above the horizon, casting an orange glow across early morning on Yavin IV. The shriek of sublight engines split the air as mechanics and pilots ran X-wings through preflight checklists.
This isn’t the sort of training I had in mind, Luke thought wryly. But the war isn’t waiting for us to be ready.
The members of Red Group were gathered in a loose semicircle, with Mara being the last to join, dropping her pilot’s duffel – popular among Alliance pilots due to its size fitting well in the small belly cargo compartment of an X-wing – on the floor next to her.
Luke looked around the group. “Everyone’s bag packed?” he asked. “Once we launch, we’re not coming back.” A chorus of affirmations answered his question, and he took a moment to look at each of the pilots to evaluate readiness.
Puck was standing furthest to Luke’s left, practically bouncing on his heels. He had a smile on his face, and there was no sign of strain in his eyes. His duffel was slung over his shoulder, his hair tamed enough to suggest he’d been awake for a while before the evacuation order had arrived, and he’d been making a joke at Hobbie’s expense a few moments before. He’s ready to fly, Luke confirmed to himself.
Hobbie was next to Puck. His countenance was serious, a step up from the dour look he normally wore. He carried no bag; Luke suspected Hobbie had already stashed it in his fighter. Half his hair was matted flat, while the rest stood on end, evidence that he’d been awoken by klaxon and hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror yet. Still, his flight suit was pulled on and zipped, his eyes were alert, and his hands were wrapped around a half-finished cup of caf. He’ll be okay.
Sarkli stood between Hobbie and Wedge. He looked ready to take a holo for a recruitment poster, eyes sharp and measuring, hair immaculate, a half-smile, half-serious expression on his face. Unlike the rest of Red Group, he didn’t have a pilot’s duffel; instead, he was wearing a camouflage bag on his back, an agrinium-framed pack popular with the Pathfinders. Unlike most of the pilots, he had an A280-CFE heavy blaster pistol strapped to his hip. The blaster could quickly be built out into a rifle with a detachable barrel and stock, and Luke had no doubt those components were stashed in Sarkli’s pack. He’s ready for air or ground, Luke noted. He probably has more experience in commando operations than the rest of us put together.
Wedge had his arms crossed, his expression carefully composed, his duffel on the hangar floor at his feet. Luke had known Wedge long enough now to see the weariness in his eyes and the concern tugging the corners of his mouth downward. Covering evacuation wasn’t what either of us had in mind, Luke thought at his friend and executive officer. But there’s nothing to be done now but fly. And tired or not, Luke had no doubt that Wedge would tear up the sky the moment Red Group left the Great Temple.
Mara, too, had her face schooled into something unreadable, and Luke didn’t know her well enough to pull details from her stance. She, too, had her arms crossed like Wedge, and her hair was pleated tightly against her head – no doubt to allow her flight helmet to fit more comfortably. She wore a light DL-18 blaster low on her hip, the holster tied tightly around her thigh over her flight suit. Those brilliant green eyes showed no trace of worry or weariness, and her posture only told Luke she thought she was ready to fly. It’ll have to do.
Luke opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the roar of engines as the last squadron from the Liberty began launching from the hangar. Luke waited precious seconds for the X-wings to launch, leaving only Red Group’s six fighters and pilots. A half-disassembled Y-wing and the hulk of a Z-95 Headhunter were the only other remaining fighters, and no doubt would be left behind by the evacuating Alliance forces. When the din finally faded, Luke tried again. “This was supposed to be a training flight,” he began ruefully, “but the Empire is pushing hard enough that Command has decided to issue the final evacuation order. We’ve got several squadrons in the air right now from the Independence and Liberty that are intercepting TIE squadrons in upper atmosphere and orbit. We’re going to provide close support for the final evacuation. In less than thirty minutes we’ll be off Yavin IV for good.”
He glanced among his pilots, and noted all five were paying attention. Good. “Standard three-ship flight elements,” he continued. “I’m Red Leader and leader of One Flight. Sarkli, you’re Red Two and on my starboard wing. Jade, Red Three and port.” He waited until both gave an acknowledging nod. “Red Four is Wedge and leader of Two Flight. If something happens to me, he has command of the squadron. Red Five, Puck, on starboard. Hobbie, Red Six, on port.” Another trio of acknowledgements. “Our goal is to keep the Empire off the Great Temple long enough to complete the evacuation. We’ve got a handful of Gallofrees and shuttles finishing loading right now. Remember to stick together; we’re not chasing kills, we’re buying time. And be ready for the plan to change. As soon as the last transport is off the ground, we’re up to orbit and escaping. Independence, Defiance, and Liberty are all twenty minutes away by hyperdrive. We link up and we get out of here. Questions?”
“What do we do if one of us goes down?” Sarkli asked.
Wedge grimaced. “Don’t. We have no search and rescue team and no window to extract a downed pilot. If someone goes down and survives, capture is inevitable. And that’s better than wandering around the jungle. Lot of things down there will eat a downed pilot if you try to get clever.”
Luke looked around at the squadron. “Mount up. We need to be in the air five minutes ago.”
Ground crews had already scattered away from Red Group’s X-wings. Luke hit the ladder and vaulted into his cockpit, his own pilot’s duffel already stashed behind his command chair, though it was nearly empty – a few changes of clothes, civilian and military, and almost nothing else, given that he’d left Tatooine with only the clothes on his back. His lightsaber – his father’s lightsaber, passed on to him by Obi-Wan Kenobi – bounced on his left hip, and a heavy blaster pistol rode on his right. R2-D2 was slotted in behind the X-wing’s cockpit, and he beeped an all-clear as Luke strapped into the harness. The astromech whistled a longer query, and Luke glanced at the translation scrolling across the X-wing’s displays before answering with a smile. “Yes, this isn’t training, but at least it’s not a Death Star.” He flicked the X-wing’s comm open to the Massassi Base fighter channel. “Red Group, report in with readiness. Red Leader, ready to fly.”
“Red Two,” Sarkli answered, “all green and ready to fight.”
“Red Three, green,” Mara said.
“Red Four, four lit,” came Wedge’s check-in.
“Red Five, all lights green, though I feel like this callsign should be retired,” Puck said helpfully. “Or maybe you should have both Leader and Five, boss.”
Luke snorted.
“Red Six, nothing’s gone wrong yet,” Hobbie said dryly.
“Red Group, launch,” Luke ordered, bringing his X-wing up on repulsorlifts and sliding out of the hangar. As soon as he had cleared the Great Temple, he punched the sublight drives in, and the X-wing rocketed up into the air. Sarkli settled in beside him and Mara joined them a moment later.
Luke took a moment to study his X-wing’s scopes as Two Flight settled into position four hundred meters aft and to starboard, evaluating the tactical situation the way Commander Narra with Renegade Squadron and Wedge had both been teaching him. TIE formations were far overhead, trying to punch through the defending fighter screen, but the on-station squadrons – X-wings and A-wings from the Independence and the Liberty – were putting up a terrific fight. Trios of TIEs were slipping through piecemeal, with a handful of Imperial transports, mostly Gozantis, circumnavigating the edge of the fight to try to descend toward Yavin IV. The Gozantis were an immediate danger to the evacuation; even at a distance, Luke could tell they were carrying AT-ST and AT-AT walkers, and no doubt had holds full of stormtrooper squads. If they manage to drop troops outside the Temple, they’ll pin everyone left inside.
“Massassi Base, this is Red Leader,” Luke reported in. “We’re going to hit those incoming drop ships. If something slips by, call it out so we can cover the evacuation.”
“Red Leader, Massassi Base,” General Jan Dodonna’s voice answered. “Confirmed. Buy us the minutes we need.”
“Copy, General.” Luke switched to transmitting only on Red Group’s frequency. “Alright, squad, let’s hit those transports. Sarkli, Mara, stay tight with me so we can focus firepower and burn down the drop ships faster. Two Flight, keep those TIEs off us. S-foils to attack position.”
Wedge rolled inverted and pulled back on the stick, the X-wing accelerating through a split-s to drop him behind a trio of TIEs clearly aiming to intercept Luke’s flight. Hobbie and Puck slid back into formation behind him, Puck lagging a half second behind Hobbie. Sloppy, Wedge told himself, but we haven’t had time to train together. “Two Flight, fire in two, one…” The three X-wings opened fire together. Wedge’s target, the TIE formation’s leader, vaporized instantly. Puck’s target caught a full burst on its hexagonal radiator panel, promptly catching fire and spiraling out of formation toward the jungle far below. Hobbie’s target shuddered from the hit and dropped away, but it was a controlled evasion, not a kill.
“Let him go,” Wedge ordered, already scanning for the next threat.
A kilometer away and three hundred meters lower, Luke’s trio hit a Gozanti transport like a pack of Corellian slice hounds pouncing on a bageraset. A dozen Taim & Bak KX9 laser cannons spat hard red light, shredding through the drop ship’s shields seemingly without effort, and a moment later the transport’s port and center engines both erupted in flames. It began to drop toward the surface when a proton torpedo from Sarkli’s X-wing hit the Imperial ship dead-center, sending fire and debris in all directions. A pair of AT-AT walkers began a long, uncontrolled fall toward the Yavin IV surface, several thousand meters below. Wedge’s grin was a hunter’s carnivorous smile. Better than dealing with those monsters on the ground.
“Transport Luminous is taking fire,” the Massassi Base channel called urgently, Dodonna’s voice filling Wedge’s ear. “Enemy armor advancing on their position.”
Wedge led Two Flight in a banking turn, looking to his scopes and then out his cockpit canopy to fill in the battlefield’s details.
Luminous was one of the Alliance’s ubiquitous Gallofree GR-75 medium transports. 90 meters of off-white hull, a trio of engines, and an inherited reputation for poor reliability, Luminous was visually indistinct from any of her siblings, but she was impossible to miss against the green vegetation of the jungle. Parked at one of the smaller temples a kilometer away from the Great Temple, she was no doubt loading support staff and equipment; Wedge had no idea what that particular temple had been hosting for the Rebellion. But coming out of the jungle and into the clear-cut zone around the temple was a pair of AT-ST walkers and squads of stormtroopers, converging rapidly on the evacuating Rebels.
Wedge glanced around at the skies. TIE escorts for the drop ships Luke was targeting were scattered, but the skies were hardly clear. “Red Leader?” Wedge asked, trying not to grit his teeth. He’s the commander. Let him make the tactical decision.
“Go, Wedge,” Luke said. “Two, Three, loosen formation. Keep any TIEs off me while I keep hitting the transports. Two Flight’s off screening duty.”
Wedge finished his turn and firewalled his throttle. “Five and Six, stay with me. Target the walkers, one proton torpedo apiece. I’m going to suppress the troops.”
“You left me one of the fun targets,” Puck chimed in cheerfully.
“One pass, Puck,” Wedge warned, arming his own proton torpedoes. “A-Three, set torpedoes for impact detonation. We’re firing blind.” The X-wings rapidly crossed the battlefield, maintaining altitude until they were nearly in weapons range before Wedge pushed the stick forward and led Two Flight into a dive.
The AT-STs were firing, blaster cannons chewing away at Luminous‘s armored hull. Wedge grimaced, forcing himself to focus on the stormtroopers as he picked his target point. While Hobbie and Puck’s targeting computers could no doubt identify the AT-STs as a recognizable target, with durasteel armor, power cells, blaster cannons, and heat dissipation, a starfighter’s sensor package wasn’t built to pick out individual sentients as a target, let alone provide weapons lock. “Firing in three, two…”
Wedge waited until pink cones flashed past his cockpit on both port and starboard before he fired his own. Hobbie’s torpedo hit first, and his targeted AT-ST vanished into a silvery ball of fire and smoke. Puck’s torpedo detonated a heartbeat later, and Wedge caught a glimpse of AT-ST debris scattering from the shockwave, the “head” of the walker tumbling back into the jungle. Then his own torpedo hit, well ahead of the walkers, a third ball of fire and shockwave to scatter stormtroopers, leaving a four meters-deep crater in the clearing where it had exploded.
A shriek of warning from his astromech was just enough warning for Wedge to slam his control stick to the left and jerk back. Green laserfire hammered at his rear shields, a glancing blow that made his X-wing shudder even as he pulled back harder through the turn. “Hobbie, Puck, pincer!” he called, continuing his turn as both wingmates broke off. The trio of TIEs that had been pursuing them broke – one peeling off after Puck, the other two after Hobbie. Wedge grimaced as he completed his turn, evaluating the situation for only a moment. Puck had pulled his pursuer into a flat scissor, attempting to force the TIE to overshoot and spoiling his aim. Hobbie, on the other hand, was pinned by two fighters and in a worse position. Hobbie first.
Even as Wedge watched, Hobbie pulled his X-wing through a spiraling loop, trying to force an overshoot. The TIEs didn’t bite, apparently content to hold their advantageous position for a few moments longer and wait for a cleaner kill. Unfortunately for them, however, Wedge was already climbing back toward Hobbie. The X-wings pulled a head-to-head pass, Wedge’s canopy less than ten meters from Hobbie’s belly as their flight paths crossed; Wedge fired almost without thought as the pursuing TIEs crossed his gunsights. His lasers sheared off one of the TIE’s panels, and the fighter began to tumble uncontrolled toward the jungle below even as the second TIE broke off.
“Luminous is lifting,” Dodonna’s voice crackled over the command frequency. “Imperial stormtroopers are advancing into the temple and we’re cut off from the transports. We’re discontinuing transmission and retreating into the temple. Finish evacuating, Red Group, and get out of here. Massassi Base out.”
Wedge pulled up on Hobbie’s wing, even as the other man vectored after the escaping TIE; the hunter was now the hunted.
“We’ve got to get the General out of there,” Luke’s voice crackled on the squadron channel. “We’re not going to let him be captured. Mara, follow me in. Sarkli, join Two Flight and cover the evacuation.”
“You won’t stand a chance,” Sarkli protested. “I’m coming with you.”
“We’ll be fine. The evacuation needs you more,” Luke replied evenly.
Hobbie was maneuvering on the TIE, its pilot only now realizing he was moments from death. Wedge focused on staying on Hobbie’s wing even as he listened to the exchange on the comm. Luke, what are you doing? Sarkli’s a Pathfinder. He should be going into the Temple with you!
“As you wish, Commander Skywalker,” Sarkli finally said, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.
Hobbie fired, and the TIE evaded. Wedge contemplated countermanding Luke’s order even as he held position to cover Hobbie. What is he thinking? Months of tutoring Luke on small unit tactics and how to use people under his command to their fullest abilities, and he picks the seventeen year old girl to charge into a temple full of stormtroopers instead of the trained soldier.
Sarkli had already pulled away from Luke and Mara even as their X-wings accelerated fast and dropped low, skimming treetops with s-foils locked closed. Sarkli was pulling up, angling toward Puck, who was still trading lead and pursuit positions with his Imperial opponent, neither able to get a clear shot on the other.
Hobbie fired again, this time his cannons finding their target. The TIE exploded, a fireball in the hard blue sky even as Luke and Mara’s X-wings vanished from scopes as they set down in front of the Great Temple. “Red Group, we continue screening,” Wedge called as Hobbie dropped back to his proper position on Wedge’s wing. “We hold the Empire back until our pilots are out of the Temple.”