**Ten Standard Weeks Earlier**
 

"Cut left, Two.  Left!!"

Wedge Antilles, pilot, general, and leader of Rogue Squadron watched through his transparisteel canopy as a TIE fighter swung in behind his Rogue wingman, Rekdon Pinkar.  But there was nothing Wedge could do to help him at that very moment, except shout a warning, because another TIE had his own X-wing in its crosshairs, pulsing wave after wave of green laser fire around and into his shields.  Wedge threw his flight-stick to the right, stomping on an etheric rudder pedal, shoving his fighter into a violent flat spin.

"...he was just there..."

"...didn't see it coming..."

"...from the right.  Look out!!"

"I'm hit, I'm--"

Increasing his concentration to a level that most pilots envied, Wedge filtered through then mostly ignored the voices on the comm.  They overlapped, sometimes cut off in mid-scream, and he didn't need to think about how many pilots might be lost in this battle.  He did hear enough, however, to know that it wasn't going well for the New Republic forces.  Their decreasing numbers, which his R-5 astromech scrolled across his secondary screen a moment later, confirmed that.

Coming out of the flat spin and still trying to evade the fire of the TIE doggedly following him, he headed in the general direction of Pinkar, Rogue Two.  "Gate, red light on number three.  See what you can do with it," Wedge ordered his astromech.  The power to his number three engine was fluctuating wildly, ranging from thirty to seventy percent thrust without him even touching the throttle.  The only good point was that it was throwing his line of flight off just enough to keep the TIE from predicting his moves and getting a solid lock on him.

Even as Wedge completed that thought, the engine indicator light flicked from red to yellow, and the power flowing to the engine stabilized somewhat--enough for Wedge to at least gain more control of his craft.  "Thanks, Gate," he grunted, inverting and diving straight at the TIE on Rogue Two's stern.  "Two, this is Lead.  I'm incoming with a TIE hot on my exhaust ports.  Going to try and dispose of your tormentor as I make my pass.  See what you can do with mine, then rejoin me."

Rogue Two's reply was washed out in a sea of static, but Wedge thought he caught the word "critical" in there somewhere.  As he barrel-rolled through the empty space between them, he asked Gate to pull a diagnostic from Twoee, Pinkar's droid.  The information scrolled across his secondary screen in blood-red letters.

"Two, eject!" Wedge called, just as Pinkar's X-wing was engulfed by a flash of incandescent light.  The tiny blue symbol representing Wedge's wingman disappeared from his screen.

"Damn it!!" Wedge exclaimed, bouncing a fist off his thigh.

Without warning, the whine of his number three engine doubled in intensity, and sparks rained out of the panel holding the indicator light.  "Gate, nearest Rogue!  I think we're going to need some help."

* * * * * * *

Major Derek "Hobbie" Klivian was pushed back into his pilot's couch as the shockwave of an explosion rocked his X-wing.  He wrestled the stick for control of his fighter as he rode through the glowing debris of the TIE that had just vaped Rogue Three.  Although there was nothing he could have done to save Shra, the least Hobbie could do was secure some justice for his dead wingman.

"Four, you clear?" he heard a tense voice call over the Rogue frequency.

"Clear, Lead.  You need some help?"

There was a strangled grunt before Wedge came back.  "Uh, yeah.  The sooner, the better."

"On my way," Hobbie replied, first locating Wedge on his scanner, then turning onto an intercept course.  He noticed that Rogue Two was no longer showing on his tactical screen.  "I'll be there in twenty seconds, Lead.  Hang on."

There was a faint bang through the speakers, then Wedge was back on the comm, his strained voice nibbled by static.  "Hurry, Four."

Hobbie skirted around the wreckage of a TIE Interceptor as it spun lazily out towards deep space, then his fighter screamed in a straight line towards the X-wing with the smoke and sparks erupting from its number three engine, a TIE interceptor hot on its exhaust.  Normally that wouldn't have worried Hobbie too much, but Wedge's X-wing was obviously having problems maneuvering, and it was only a matter of time before the TIE got a solid lock on him.

Wedge was also without a wingmate to help cover him.  Hobbie was alone now, too, having lost Shra.  Once he got this TIE off Wedge, assuming Wedge's X-wing was still flight worthy, they would team-up and rejoin the battle.  Hobbie felt a small twinge of guilt at that.  Two pilots, his friends, had just lost their lives, and now he casually moved on to another wingmate.  But he dismissed that thought as quickly as it arose; now was not the time to grieve for Shra, or Pinkar.  There would be many pilots lost today, and he had to make sure that Wedge wasn't among them--Shra was dead, but Wedge wasn't yet.  "Falling in behind your pursuer now, Lead."

"Four...engine...to...critical..." Hobbie's comm squawked just as he swept his crosshairs over the persistent TIE.  The more maneuverable TIE inverted, avoiding the crimson blaster fire from Hobbie's quad lasers.  Although he didn't score any direct hits, at least it gave the pilot something to think about besides shooting at Wedge.

"Stang, this one is good," Hobbie grumbled.  He concentrated on the ball-like hull of the small fighter, suspended between the twin solar panels and ion engines that powered the ship.  Within that ball was a pilot who was far better than most of the forces they had faced so far.  Experience was a good teacher...  "Come on, just sit still for a second..."

With his finger hovering over the trigger on his flight-stick, Hobbie glided back and forth, his heads-up-display flickering from green to yellow and back again, but never managing to get a solid lock.  The TIE continually passed through his line of fire, but so quickly that he couldn't hope to get a shot off in time.  "Lead, if you can hear me, pull him to your left."

There was no verbal response to confirm that Wedge heard him, but the general's fighter began a lazy drift to port, and the TIE couldn't resist the easy target.  Concentrating solely on Wedge, the enemy pilot forgot about Hobbie for a valuable few seconds, letting the veteran Rogue settle his crosshairs over the smaller fighter.

Hobbie's four laser canons discharged sheets of red energy into the unsuspecting TIE before it could line up its own shot at Wedge.  It exploded in a brief burst of light and a noxious cloud of gases, then faded into the blackness of space.

"Lead, can you make it back to Starlight?" Hobbie asked.

Silence.

Hobbie tried again, this time on Wedge's private frequency.  "Rogue Leader, can you make it back to Starlight, or will you require assistance?"

Again, silence.

"Starlight, Rogue Leader is out of commission.  Please send rescue shuttle to the following coordinates..."