By:  Michael A. Stackpole Published by Bantam Books April 1999 It's the kind of mission only Wedge Antilles and the Rogue Squadron would dare to undertake.  Against impossible odds they will stage a raid into an enemy stronghold--only to be rescued from certain destruction by an unexpected ally.  Ysanne Isard, the ruthless Imperial commander, has appeared on the scene seemingly from out of nowhere.  Now she proposes a most unusual alliance, offering to help Wedge rescue his captured comrades from Imperial Warlord Admiral Krennel's sadistic prison camp.  But her offer is not without a price.  Wedge must lead Rogue Squadron in Isard's deadly struggle against an enemy made in her own image.  It's an offer Wedge would love to refuse, for Isard is certain to betray them.  But how can they leave their comrades at Krennel's mercy?  The answer is:  they can't--even if it means being caught between Krennel's ruthlessness and Isard's treachery.

    The lead Interceptor rolled to port and cut down past the curve of the Frigate's hull.  Corran caught a flash of red on one of the Interceptor's wings and nodded.  "Looks like he was once part of the One Eighty-first Imperial Fighter Group."
    Whistler blatted harshly at him.
    "Yes, I'll be careful.  Neither one of us wants to know what Mirax will do to the survivor if we die."  Corran winked at the holograph of his wife fixed to a side panel in his cockpit, then rolled his X-wing and cruised down after the squint.  He threaded a path through the turbolaser blasts the Frigate was pumping out, then swept past the ship out near its engines.
    Even before Whistler could hoot a warning, the hiss of lasers splashing themselves over his aft shields caught Corran's full attention.  His secondary monitor showed the Interceptor dropping in on his tail.  Must have throttled back and hovered near the engines, waiting.  This guy is good.