The ship vibrated violently on every side as the atmosphere of the planet attempted to tug on the tiny X-Wing. Dyrien shook off his momentary delusionary day-dreams, pulling about on the yokestick so that he was back in proper formation away from the gravitational pull of the planet.

Anxiety was assailing him as strongly as any amount of laserfire from the shipyard and its outlying defenses.

Given the situation, the military was unable to send out scouts to get a preliminary on the outlying area. There was no telling what they were sending, what they were going to fight, or what was happening. As far as Dyrien was concerned, an entire starfleet could be waiting there for them with a thousand fighters and they would never know.

At least, not until the entire fleet was to bear down on top of them.

"Colonel is everything alright?" one of the other pilots, Captain Gregyo, asked, concern dripping from his voice.

Dyrien shook his head a few times to clear off any lingering dizziness.

"I'm fine...maintain radio silence," he ordered crisply. "Turn to the alternate channel," he warned in the instance that a curious Serasian had picked up on the channel. The colonel reached over and flipped the channels, a slight, static hiss erupting in his headset as it did so.

A moment later it silenced itself, leaving him once again to the solitude of the humming of his sublight drives, and the slight beeps and twitters of his curious astromech droid.

His feet eased off of the rudders as he returned the X-Wing to auto pilot, allowing him to dwell and think before the imminent battle that would certainly erupt in less than twenty minutes. He looked to his starboard, at the bulky Mosquito , the converted and repaired Marauder-Class Corvette seized at the skirmish a couple days ago.

Perhaps, just perhaps, that skirmish would be the turning point of this whole war. That thought sat well inside of Colonel Dyrien's mind.

What if he could go back to living a normal life? Spending three weeks on base, two weeks with his wife, and have a month's worth of rest throughout the year? What if everything could get back to normal, his sons could get back to harvesting wheat, he could watch as enormous foreign freighters pulled into orbit, setting down to trade their goods for the precious minerals and gems that existed below the surface of Kiyar?

What if everything was good again?

So far this new president, Kilam Blackh, was leading them down that course. He had given the people hope, a belief that maybe they could know more than they had. Maybe they could survive the famines, the war, and the nuclear attacks.

President Blackh was a good man.

But what if this failed? What if the colonel wasn't good enough?

Can there be a victory if we lose this operation?

That was the major question that had been haunting him since he received his orders. What if they did not succeed? What would Seras's retribution be like?

Would it be another all out nuclear strike? Would it be a biological attack with their macabre dancing virus?

Question after question constantly entered his mind.

And he had to get rid of them. Such doubts, such concerns held no place here, not when such an important battle was about to take place with the last remaining X-Wings the Federation had.

That was asking for trouble.

Letting out one, long sigh, Dyren looked over through his hatch once more at the Mosquito. The entire operation depended completley on that. If it went down then the entire mission was going to go with it.

Then, adjusting himself in his flight seat, he gripped the yoke stick in front of him firmly, his expression turning hard and determined. His feet were placed back on his rudders.

Looking down at his flight map, he had travelled twenty klicks, much further than he'd initially thought, but his contemplations must have been going longer than he'd thought.

Not a big deal.

Straight ahead the shipyard was finally coming into view, its enormous and bulky figure rising over the horizon of the planet.

Only a few months ago it had belonged to the Federation, producing starfighters, warships, and spaceliners for trade and transportation. After the second wave of nuclear attacks during Operation: Winter's Touch, the Serasians launched a surprisingly large strike against it, catching it completely by surprise. Within the first landing the place was seized.

They were going to do the same, with far less troops than before. But this time...they had that woman...

Raven.

Raven would be the key to this whole operation.

"Alright team," he announced, "lock S-foils in attack position, throttle to full and shields up, expect enemy fighters to come any minute.

"All fighters report in."

The typical barrage that usually consisted of dozens of pilots incurring their designation had diminished to four voices and a double tap from Raven.

"Alright you know the plan, call your targets before attacking and clear the way for the Mosquito," Dyrien instructed. Tightening and adjusting his grip on the yoke stick as the adrenaline began to pump through his body, Dyrien watched his battle monitor carefully.

He adjusted his foot pedal rutters, earning a slight moan from the engines, no doubt a large resemblance of a flame from the ion engines emitting as the craft began to speed toward the target.

And just as he suspected, the port of the gigantic shipyard began to open up like a monstrous maw, vomiting out the starfighters of the Serasian force. The colonel could just imagine the soldiers inside, the blaring alarms, the unsuspecting fear that crept inside of them at the thought of an attack.

Of course he could also suspect the incredulously curious stares as they realized only a handful of ships were attacking.

"Mark mark, we have a squadron of enemy snub fighters, TIE/lns by designation, one-two twelve, repeat, one-two twelve," came the call of a both excited and jittery Green Three. There were twelve TIE fighters, what did Raven call them? Eyeballs?

Whoever was supplying the Kiyarans had brought in Imperial fighter craft as well it seemed.

This all looked so much like the Civil war. The TIEs versus the X-Wings, the good guys versus the bad, the rebels versus the Empire.

"Attention lead," Raven's familiar voice blazed over the comm, "we have another one-two squadron coming out of the port mouth, repeat another one-two twelve squadron."

Dyren took note of this.

"Gyro," he said in reference to his astromech droid, "get a lock on the nearest target. Every time one is dispatched, get a lock on the next nearest."

The little black painted droid whistled an affirmative, and all was a go in a blinding flash.

A beep signified that he'd gotten lock on his nearest TIE fighter, designated Alpha Three.

"Lead, Target Alpha Three," he called out to the squadron. The miniscule figure of a TIE in the middle of his targetting computer waved back and forth between the central target on the green screen.

"Two, Target Alpha One."

"Three, Target Alpha Four."

"Four, Target Alpha Seven."

"Five, Target Alpha Nine."

"Little Bird, Target Alpha Five."

Pressing his rutters to the floor and reassigning all deflector shields to the fore, Dyrien's X-Wing hauled quickly in the direction of his designated fighter.

"All pilots, engage!" the colonel cried out in unison with his fingers squeezing the trigger. Red-gold blasts whizzed past him. He'd set his weapons to dual-fire mode, firing only two of the three cannons on his S-Foils. They whipped outward, three volleys that caught first the tip of the solar panel of the impudent TIE fighter, then the arm that held it to the round base, and then finally bursting through the cockpit to ignite the craft aflame.

The remaining shots simply added fuel to the fire. There was no evidence suggesting the pilot had escaped.

A series of green laser blasts in return screamed at him, painting the fore of his craft black with scorch marks. Easing off one of the pedals and turning hard to port, the X-Wing broke into a barrel roll as two surviving TIEs roared past, their tell-tale whine heralding their movements.

His inertial compensator made it seem as though he were still upright, simply moving hard left. The distant stars spun by him in a flash until he was confident that the two eyeballs were well behind him, though that was something he would have to remedy quickly. A TIE on one's tail was a quick death if the pilot knew what he was doing.

Dyrien glanced about earnestly, seeking out his two opponents while also trying to get a lay of the situation.

The creamy glow of Kiyar's atmosphere radiated against the shipyard, illuminating it beautifully, though that was added onto by light flashes of orange from exploding Imperial craft.

"Report," Dyrien demanded. "Lead, target destroyed."

The other pilots in turn offered their own successes. Only Green Three had struck out, only damaging his fighter. Though he was in hot pursuit of the TIE, hoping to redeem himself for his initial failure to destroy the craft.

"Alright, all pilots break formation and engage."

Pulling a hard right on the yokestick while easing off both rutters, the X-Wing turned its nose toward the thick of the fray, where Raven in her TIE Defender was outclassing three eager eyeballs easily. That won a slight grin from the colonel.

Looking down at his own scanner he noticed that the two fighters who had passed him were moving in a dual formation to try to remain on his aft.

"Gyro, reallocate the shields to balance out the ship," he warned, just as a green flash of light followed by the clicking of a TIE's twin laser cannons rammed across one of his S-Foils.

After a quick scan of his equipment, it seemed everything was still in order. The hit wasn't bad and simply scraped off some of the deflector shields. Pressing hard down on the pedals at his feet and ramming the yoke stick in the same direction, the X-Wing dived, though the agile and nimble TIEs were hot on his tail, unleashing volley after volley of green blasts.

Dyrien tucked and turned his X-Wing both left and right before ending in yet another starboard barrel roll, before giving a hard turn upward.

Against a trained and professionally trained Imperial pilot, no doubt this manuever would have done little but against a Serasian who was still learning the ropes he managed to barely break the chase, turning on his aft and dropping so he was coming in at the side of one of them.

Squeezing down on the trigger he placed several well aimed shots against one, tearing through the solar panel and cockpit beyond. The second one tried to break with a similar manuever.

A pair of well-aimed shots in his direction caught him, sending him as well to a fiery grave.

Looking at his short range scanner it seemed that seven TIEs were down, one fleeing, and the remaining four of the first squadron were heading as quickly as they could for the Mosquito. Green four ended the trajectory of one of them with three well aimed bursts, while two others, in a panic, simply crashed into one another while trying to avoid a pincer movement by Raven and Green Two.

They still had that second squadron to worry about though, which was closing fast on their rears.

"Sir, we've recieved little information from scanning. There's some sort of conflict, weapons fire, and whatever defence force there is seems badly out-gunned. We've recieved no response from the planet."

Issk was not happy. The scanning capabilities of a commercial freighter were awfull, barely detecing and explosion ten feet away. He decided to risk it.

"All ships, enter system. Raise shields, if you have any, brace for combat situation."

The little flotilla of vessels took off, and in a flash of blinding light, appeared at the edge of the system. The light of the local star temporarily blinded them until their systems adjusted. Before them they could see combat, massive shipyards, and a pock-marked planet, which according to their information was the target zone.

"Crap." He said "Advance full speed. Close formation. Radio in the defenders, and tell them the Azguards are here to help. If enemy fighters close in, try ramming them. These things are pretty damn big, they must be good for something."

He gazed over the scene. This was not good.

“Really, do you have to do that?”

Captain Kennel, commander of the Solace, smiled as he lifted the small lighter up to the cigar clenched between his lips.

“Yes.” He said as he lit the cigar, exhaling a small plume of smoke.

His second-in-command, Commander Steele, sighed and rolled his eyes as he took his cup and drank the hot tea that was contained within, “You know how I hate t’bacc.” He said, referring to the cigar that Kennel was now enjoying.

“Yeah. But I am the boss around here, and I like it.” Kennel said.

“Well, you should have some respect for your elders.” Steele said. He was older than Kennel, by at least ten years. His hair was graying, and he had seen many years of military service. He and Kennel had known each other for a long time, and Kennel had always looked up to Steele as a mentor, even though their was a slight rank difference between the two. When asked why he wasn’t a Commodore or an Admiral, Steele often replied, “I have the utmost respect for the Sovereignty crewman. To be able to operate those starships… I prefer to be one of them, rather than commanding them.”

It was true he had turned down promotion many times, in order to stay a commander. The second-in-command of a war vessel was the link between the lower class of officers and the Captain. He preferred it that way.

“You may be older, but you aren’t my elder.” Kennel said, which elicited a chuckle out of Steele.

“Yeah. You are right about that.” Steele said, taking another sip of his tea.

“So how is the crew doing?” Kennel asked, taking a more serious tone.

“They are fine. A little homesick, but they will endure.” Steele replied.

“I hope they do not lose morale. Being out here in the middle of nowhere can do that to a person.” Kennel said offhandedly.

“hey have trust in you, Captain. We all trust that when our mission is complete, we will be home as soon as possible.” Steele said.

“Our mission…” Kennel said, his voice trailing off.

The Solaceand it’s accompanying supply vessels had been on patrol duty for three months, mapping safe routes throughout the Unknown Regions. Also to keep updated on any unusual activities, so the Sovereignty was not surprised by an unknown enemy who resided in the UR.

“… I wonder when we will be rid of it.” Kennel finished.

“High Command will recall us when they believe our task is complete.” Steele said.

“What about our supplies?” Kennel asked, referring to the three cargo ships that accompanied the Solace.

“We have enough. More than enough. I don’t know why but we have enough food and water to supply us for three years, much less one more month of scout and patrol.” Steele said.

“I know. But everything has a purpose. I am sure we will need the extra supplies soon enough.’

“Yeah.” Steele said.

Their conversation was interrupted by the chime of the door. Kennel sighed, “I told them I didn’t want to be disturbed…”

Steele ignored the Captain’s protests, “Come in.” He called out.

A young officer, an ensign, stepped into the room, “Captain Kennel, Commander Steele…” He began, trailing off.

“Well, come on, son. What is it?” Steele asked.

“We are receiving unusual sensor readings coming from a nearby system.” The ensign said.

“What kind of readings?” Kennel asked.

“Well, something we have never seen before. Perhaps you could tell us what they are.’ The ensign said.

Kennel nodded, standing, as did Steele. Led by the young ensign, they both headed out of the door, and onto the bridge that lay adjacent to Kennel’s office. They were led to a sensor console with several officers clustered around.

As Kennel and Steele approached, the cluster of officers made a path to the console, where another ensign was seated. Kennel took a look at the sensor readings, which were highly distorted, as if coming from a great distance.

“These…” Kennel said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the screen with the sensor readings displayed, “I have seen these before. But not sense my days at the Academy…”

Steele looked at him, “What?”

“We had to do papers on old forms of weapons technology. I did mine on Ion Encumbrance Systems, and I believe another did one on… nuclear technology…” He said.

Steele frowned, “These are nuclear readings?” He asked.

“Yes. I think so. Although these look a bit old. I think this is residual nuclear power…”

“Residual? You mean traces?” Steele asked.

“Yeah.”

“Think we should check it out?” Steele asked.

“Definitely. Commander, set a course and head to the system with all possible speed.” Kennel said.

“Aye.”




*


“Reversion!”

Kennel watched the forward view ports as the Solace and it’s three supply transports exited hyperspace.

“Sensor sweep.” He said.

“The system is made up of seven planets, one of which contains the nuclear fallout readings we detected.” Commander Steele said, reading off the sensor readings.

“Micro jump. Set a course for the planet with the nuclear fallout.’ Kennel said.


Little did he know this was going to be a busy day.







"Is that the whole message?" President Griff asked.

Legion-General Keyan, commander in chief of the ORS navy, nodded. Next to him was the Black Hand Director, Jorai Kovel.

"Kovel, what do you have on this 'Federal States of Kiyar'?" Griff asked.

"We have very little on it. It is a fringe organization that rules the planet Kiyar. According to our readings, it suffered nuclear devestation approximately one year ago. The planet is dominated primarily by the forces of it's sister planet called..." Kovel paused to look at his notes, "Seras."

"So, what is it? These Seras people are blockading Kiyar then?" Keyan asked.

"According to the message, and what we can understand... yes." Kovel said.

"Where is the nearest Sovereignty vessel?" Griff asked Keyan.

"I have a Star Destroyer, the Solace. It is a deep-space long term recon vessel. It has accompanying supply transports as well" Keyan said, looking down at his own datapad.

"Well, if Seras has blockaded Kiyar, then how would the people get supplies?" Griff asked.

"We don't know if there really is a blockade. We don't know anything..." Keyan said.

"Well, contact the Solace and devert her to the system. She is to render aid to the Kiyarans by any means necessary... but I do not want to provoke the Serasians." Griff said, standing up.

"We do not need another enemy at the moment...."

But then he stopped, thinking of the devestation of a nuclear war on a planet. There must be hungry, hopeless people... and children, all because of the sister planet Seras...

"...but then again, if Seras were to attack the Solace first... they are obligated to defend theirselves." Griff finished.






"Exiting hyperspace..."

"Sensor sweep. What do we have?" Kennel asked.

"There it is... the planet with the nuclear devestation. I am detecting one shipyard in orbit, with multiple snubs engaging in battle..." The sensor operator reported.

"Alright, head forward slowly on the heading--"

"Sir, incoming message from High Command." Commander Steele spoke up.

"Alright. Put it through here." Kennel said, moving to his own comm screen. As he read it, a slow smile spread across his features.

"Belay that. Open a channel to..." He looked down at the orders, "Kiyar, the planet with the nuclear damage."

"Channel open." The comm officer reported.

"Federal States of Kiyar, President Blackh... this is the Star Destroyer Solace of the Outer-Rim Sovereignty. I am Captain Kennel. May we render assistance?"

Vice Admiral Kraken stood on the bridge of the Victory Star Destroyer Black Widow, and watched as the fresh fleet of captial warships performed combat manuevers. Of the ships present, the Victory Star Destroyer, and five of the Constrainer Picket Ships had veteran crews, while the crews of the three Fire class Light Frigates were novices. Finally, the crews of the two brand new Illustrious Fast Attack Cruisers were green, although their crews were trained by the finest starfleet academeys around the area, they had never before seen combat. Now they were patiently waiting for three old Automated Kruk Battlewagons to show up, to where they could perform live fire combat manuevers. However, Admiral Kraken soon recieved a message that one of the Kruks had a faulty hyperdrive, so they were all being held back for emergency mantinence. Feeling frustrated, Kraken soon recieved a comm message from the Imperial High Command. They were passing on a message that came from an unknown source, pleading help due to famine, and enemy attacks, and blockades, and the such. Seeing a chance for some real live fire combat manuevers, Admiral Kraken ordered the fleet to recall it's fighters, and jump into hyperspace.........


Several hours after they had recieved the call, the New Order fleet popped out of hyperspace into the system that had it's coordinates attached to the package. Outer Rim Soveriengty Vessels were detected, as were Azguard warships. Another force was seen in system, a large fleet. The large fleet was steadily moving torwards the planet. Moving to the communications station, Admiral Kraken began to speak;

"This is Vice-Admiral Kraken of the New Order, hailing the Kiyar Federation. Does anyone copy, over?" asked the Admiral.

Another roar past the X-Wing signified a passing TIE, the great THWUUMP of the Republic made engines heralding the pursuing Green Two. Dyrien looked up and to the right out of his cockpit hatch, watching the chase with obvious excitement.

Red-gold blasted from the cannons on the S-Foils' tips one after another, igniting the Serasian fighter into yet another fiery ball. Bits and pieces of solar panel and cockpit flew in several directions, Green Two's X-Wing flying through the debris and smoke.

Dyrien took a quick moment to assess the battlefield damage. A report a few moments ago had indicated that Green Four had been teamed up on, and had lost one of his cannons and his hyperdrive.

Green Five had suffered slight flight control damage, but his astromech droid had remedied the problem quickly.

The Serasians weren't fairing quite as well. Already a squadron had been routed, and as the second wave had hit the X-Wings, a good portion of them, three was it? were already decimated, while one had broke formation and was fleeing as quickly as it could toward...well Dyrien didn't know where the hell he intended to get to being a short range fighter, but obviously he wanted nothing to do with the vengeful X-Wings.

It was as though the entire wrath of the Kiyaran Federation, of all the Kiyaran people had mustered up into these five fighters to bring the hammer of Kiyar down onto the anvil that was Seras.

Hope began to boil and build inside of Dyrien, hope that maybe the war would end in victory.

They just needed to keep this up.

"Little Bird, you have a kill count?" he asked curiously, jerking his X-Wing back into a bearing toward the shipyard. He saw that the Mosquito had removed all the base's defenses with powerful laser and ion cannons. Between the spaces of the shipyard, Dyrien could see the completed Loronar-class Strike Cruiser, a mighty warship generally used in packs to decimate heavy ships such as Star Destroyers. Undoubtably it was going to be used to pommel the poor Kiyarans down below.

"I got three," Raven commented in response.

"Good going Little Bird," the colonel responded. Placing one foot against the left rudder and applying light pressure as he pulled left on the yoke stick, the X-Wing pulled to a port roll, lining his guns with a nearby TIE that was trying to use the glare of the sun to hide his manuevers down under the shipyard.

Narrowing his eyes, the colonel decided a score had to be settled with this one.

It was designated Beta Five, and he seemed to know what he was doing. Everytime the X-Wing's reticles almost took the miniscule fighter into alignment it would duck or swerve, using its superior agility to the Republic class fighter to keep Dyrien on his toes.

He'd shot down dozens of fighters who used a similar tactic, but never so close to a nearby enemy space station, much less a shipyard that was not completely disabled. There were still a handful of small, orbital turbolasers that could make short work of a pilot who was not paying attention. The Marauder Corvette was only supposed to deal with the direct threats to it, so as to be sure that it would still be able to defend itself against a Serasian reprisal.

Green-gold flashes of turbolasers whizzed by the X-Wing's cockpit, and Dyrien found himself both dodging from the blasts and trying to avoid the hanging pieces and antennae about him. The TIE finally caught onto him and gave its own pair of blasts.

They obviously had no chance of downing Dyrien, but they did make him have to make another tight manuever to avoid just about any kind of hit.

The glare from the sun made it all that much harder to navigate and target.

"God dammit, hey Two get your ass over here and give me a hand with this fighter," he ordered. The frustration was practically dripping off of him now.

"Yes sir," came the expected response. A moment later the sight of Green Two coming out of the glare showed itself, followed by the red-gold texture of his laser cannons. Instinctively, Dyrien pushed down on the yoke stick, shooting the X-Wing directly downward. A half a second later, the TIE shot downward was well.

Pulling back just a bit so that he was aiming just slightly ahead of the eyeball, the colonel squeezed the trigger, catching the its solar panel. Beginning to spin it became an open target for Green Two, who in pounced on the opportunity like a cat.

He unleashed everything he had, blasting wave after wave of concentrated energy until there was nothing more of the Serasian.

"TIE/ln fighters are withdrawing," Raven commented, noting that the Serasian craft were doing what they could to either get back into the shipyard or simply avoid the X-Wings.

"This is Mosquito, we have finished our preliminary objective, we are beginning our approach now," came the crisp military voice of the newly promoted Captain Tar.

He had been a commander for lord knew how long, commanding a quadrant defense force. It was he who had commanded the corvette during the defense a couple days ago, after his captain had been struck during an explosion from the initial Serasian barrage.

Upon hearing about him, his background and his heroics, Presidant Blackh had personally promoted him to captain of the Mosquito.

"Roger Mosquito, good luck," Dyrien commented. Pulling out of the jagged maw that was the bottom of the shipyard, the colonel moved himself to line back up with his squadron. They would fly a routine cover, occasionally destroying particularly pesky parts of the shipyard that the troops could not take.

Coming around, the sight of the mighty corvette docking against the gigantic base was something of beauty. It moevd down with a kind of serene motion, like a holodrama's climactic and triumphant ending.

Perhaps this was the climax.

Dyrien eased back in his seat, grinning visibly behind his flight helmet. His other four pilots and Raven moved up in a similar formation surrounding the Mosquito, lowering their speed so they drifted just above it.

It would be easy sailing from here.

Or it should have been.

"Holy @#%$, incoming!" cried a frantic Green Three, moments before a green dot on the sensor board simply disappeared.

<hr>

Kilam staggered into his bedroom with the assistance of his guards. Wiping away at the crust that had lined his lower eyes, he met the warm and soothing feeling of his mattress.

In a second he would be asleep, to the merciful blackness of sleep.

Just as he felt his eyes begin to shudder rapidly, a loud noise sounded throughout the room, a high-pitched, almost squeeling series of bleeps that for just a moment frightened the exhausted president.

Looking around he saw it was his communicator, and so he grabbed it, flipping the switch.

"President Blackh," he said, no anger in his tone. He was of course against coming back to get to sleep.

"Mister President you have a message that you aren't going to believe," his secretary's voice chimed, it was melodic and excited, like a troubador's aria.

"Well then...patch it through," he insisted, sitting up on his bed and yawning briefly.

"Federal States of Kiyar, President Blackh... this is the Star Destroyer Solace of the Outer-Rim Sovereignty. I am Captain Kennel. May we render assistance?"

<hr>

"Break and attack! Break and attack!" Dyrien cried at the top of his lungs, ramming both his rudders down ferociously and giving a tug on the yoke stick.

The X-Wing bucked like a frightened ranto and hauled into battle in the direction of the red blips on the sensor screen.

Dyrien's face construed into one of horror as Gyro registered just exactly what they were.

"We have three, mark three TIE Advanced, moving in on point, cover the Mosquito!" Dyrien ordered.

"My God where'd they come from?" cried Green Two.

"Gyro plot me a course, where exactly did these guys come from?" the colonel demanded of his astromech, who whistled affirmatively. His X-Wing soared viciously at the three, their needle point wings seeming to gleam in the sunlight.

They were modeled after Darth Vader's custom TIE fighter, down to the shields and hyperdrive. However, they were far superior, far faster, and far more deadly than the twin-cannoned prototype that had been favored by the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Boasting four laser cannons and two missile launchers, with the shields of an X-Wing, they would be formidable opponents indeed.

They were at least a klick out, they had gotten Green Three with a concussion missile as they were basking in the glory of their latest victory.

That was something that they were going to pay for.

Raven seemed to be the most eager to fight them. Her superior TIE Defender jumped ahead of all of them, and judging by the readings all of her shields were to the fore. No doubt she was going for target lock on one to pelt them with her deadly proton torpedoes.

Gyro gave out a few beeps followed by a loud splurt. Text rolled across the screen near Dyrien's legs. He read:



That was not good. Letting out a long sigh, he readjusted himself in his seat and focused ahead on one of the targets.

"All pilots call your targets."

With some confirmation calls, the squadron moved in on the superior fighters. Switching to missiles, the targetting redicle turned yellow, beeping as it attempted to acquire a strong lock.

"Missile away!" Raven cried. True to her call, three blue-white projectiles exitted her craft, moving at quick speeds toward one of the TIE Advanced.

"I have lock, I have lock," Green Two commented. "Missile away!"

Two more shot out toward the Serasians.

Dyrien watched anxiously, still waiting for his own reticle to acquire lock. The five missiles sped across the empty expanse of space.

Much to his and the squadron's horror instead of pursuing the TIEs, each of the missiles turned on each other, if they did not ram into one another they were caught in the protonic explosion.

There went that idea.

"What the hell was that?" cried a frightened Green Five. "What the hell was that?"

"These are Dark Jedi!" Raven cried out. Her TIE Defender suddenly dropped, a split-second later thousands of green blasts firing just where her target had been. The pride of Imperial technology did several dives and spins to avoid the three pursuing TIE Advanced.

That should have opened up an opportunity for Green squadron, who let loose a salvo of red-gold laser blasts, hoping to catch the diving TIEs.

To their surprise they moved perfectly and in complete unison. They simply strafed a tad bit, completely avoiding the lasers in a perfect harmony.

How were they going to defeat these things?

Raven was hard-pressed trying to keep away from the unrelenting wave of fire, taking one or two hits that bounced off of her deflector shields, weakening them slightly.

"My god these guys are good," lamented Green Two. "Where did they come from?"

"Stay tight Green group. Stick tight and give unrelenting supressing fire. Get them off of Little Bird," Dyrien ordered. He decided to drop, trying to move between Raven and the advancing Dark Jedi.

The surviving three others gave their shots, this time in a bit more random, far less measured manner. Bursts of single shots painted every side of the TIE Advanced, a gauntlet of laser blasts to try to navigate through.

And navigate they did, deftly and perfectly while still keeping on target of Raven.

But they had bought Dyrien time, time enough to get behind the retreating Raven and face upwards toward the pursusing TIEs. Squeezing down on the trigger, he offeres his own burst of blasts, this time scraping the solar panel shields of the one to the right, or to the port of the middle fighter.

The craft broke off, hoping it seemed to preserve its shields while the other too stuck on. They gave a couple measured shots, scorching the port S-Foils of Dyrien's X-Wing, but he relented with another volley of his own shots.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dyrien caught the flight path of the TIE Advanced that had mysteriously broken off. It seemed he wasn't interested in his shields at all, he was going straight for the Mosquito.

"Green group, pursue that fighter!" he cried. "I've got these two under control."

"This is Little Bird, breaking off to pursue," Raven commented and before Dyrien could protest she'd navigated her TIE to be in direct course of the TIE Advanced.

She sprayed a series of green shots, which painted the aft of the rectangular fighter, before it dropped, resurfaced, and barrel-rolled to the starboard, almost evading the pursuing Jedi woman.

But she was the faster, her years in a professional military allowing her to be ready for anything of this caliber, and she continued to blast away at it.

To Dyrien's surprise the two he was on simply broke off, offering only a couple more well aimed blasts before turning back on Raven, completely ignoring the X-Wings.

They seemed like little pests. No matter what they did, Dyrien was the only one who even landed a shot against the agile fighters.

The one that had broken away did not deter, and managed to get off a missile that slammed hard against the aft of the Mosquito, but did not do any physical damage to the hull.

And yet, surprisingly, after that wave instead of coming around for another pass, the TIE Advanced navigated into the docking bay of the shipyard, using its tractor beam to pull it snugly into port. After making their own passes with lasers, one other TIE Advanced did the same, only leaving the one who had originally been in the center.

And this one moved right for Raven.

<hr>

"Yes...yes thank you Captain...we are currently engaged, if you could devote your fighters to assist us I'd appreciate it, General Marec of the Space Force will contact you with that information," Kilam explained.

After several more formalities, the president hung up, only to be chimed by another hail.

The Empire was here to assist.

The president, now more joyous than ever, gave this time the coordinates for the Centari Quadrant, where the sattelite had been knocked out. Where undoubtably a Serasian task force awaited.

"Seems like everybody decided to get involved in this. Even the Empire is here. Boy, times change. Move us forward captain and launch the Rapyirs, shielding at full."

"Yes, sir."

The battle group moved forward towards the planet where the battle was going on. Shields at full and weapons ready to gun for any enemy vessel, the Rapyirs launched from their bays to proceed towards the front of the formation and form a wedge. They'd only brought twenty of the fighters, all that had been available at the time, but they would serve their purpose.

"Patch me through to the planet."

"Done."

"Federal States of Kiyar this is Prince Kamon Vondiranach of the Tholatin Republic. I'm on the HMS Serene Insolence and have two other vessels in the battlegroup with me. May we assist you?"

The comm. officer nodded that it had gone through and Kamon looked out at the space around them. It was going to be one of those days you hope you wont regret. It may not have been the greatest idea to come here, but it may have been. He wouldn't know until the conflict was done and over with.

"Patch me through to that ORS ship."

"Done."

"ORS vessel this is Kamon Vondiranach on the HMS Serene Insolence. I must say I didn't expect to see you here."

For twenty minutes now they had been sitting at the outermost rim of this small, unknown star system. At almost six billion kilometers away from the center of the system they rested, listening and waiting. To the naked eye, nothing was visible. The unique paint with which the ships were covered absorbed light, cloaking them visually in here in space.

Fischer sat in his captain's chair aboard his flagship, a Strike class cruiser. His first officer and his communications officer flanked him on either side, both men were working over some data on their consoles.

Fischer was a man who believed in caution, a belief that complimented the official Anthos manifesto for operations outside their own space. He knew there was an additional support group coming, patrol group Alpha-eight, and he had opted to wait for their arrival before making his presence known to whatever group of people was down there.

"Hyperspace revisions," Lieutenant Dvorg said from his position at the sensor console. "Multiple contacts, low intensity scan continuing..."

The patrol group Alpha-eight had done nothing but gather data on this system since they had entered. Their long range scanners had just completed a full scan five minutes ago, and now the low impulse dish was gathering more data from the core.

"Don't query them," Fischer said unnecessarily.

"Yes, sir."



Patrol group Alpha-eight, Clakor

Captain Heilo folded the paper he had just finished reading, and placed it in his pocket. All about him crewmen were hustling toward their respective shuttles to be ferried up to their ships. Shore leave had ended today, luckily enough, and all the men had been accounted for.

"Captain," said a voice from behind him. Heilo turned, and saluted.

"At ease," said his superior, the base commander for Clakor defenses. "You've got a passenger," he continued, tilting his head to the right.

Heilo glanced to the right to take in the figure. It was a short man, dressed in a tan shirt and trousers set, with a floppy brimmed hat on his head. His face was impassive, and he nodded as Heilo's eyes met his. They were grey, this man's eyes, almost silver.

"And who are you?" he asked, his tone not too cordial.

"Tobal Hadul, at your service," replied the man, his voice mimicking Heilo's tone to a T.

"A Jedi," interjected Heilo's superior. "Waltzed right into my office not twenty minutes ago, and said he was going with you."

"How .. why .. " said Heilo, stumbling over his words slightly. A Jedi!

"I have my contacts," replied Hadul, a slight smile creeping to his lips. "Shall we go?"



At this range any com chatter from what appeared to be a battle was lost in the distance. Though it would most certainly have been useful to know what was being said, the growing crowd of task forces below might pick up any movement Fischer's group might make.

"Looks like we're not the only ones to have heard the distress call..." murmured Fischer. At least one more hyperspace revision had been detected, and there were two other 'probable revision' on their list of events. "What's the ETA for Alpha-eight?" he asked his science officer.

"Twenty minutes," was the reply.

"Sir, they still have yet to respond."

What the hell was going on? Jammed transmissions perhaps?

"Bring the flotilla around to orbit the planet. I want us as far away from the Imperials and the combat zone as possible. Send a communique, tell the Imperials we have no quarrel with them here, and I assume we're both here to do the same thing and should put our differences aside for this matter.

Issk didn't like this. The planetary forces were not responding, the Imperials were here and god knows what they're planning to do, and to top it off he's moving a big-ass army in nothing but Commercial freigters with some insignias scrawled over them.

"Try the planet again, I want to know NOW what they want us to do."

They were getting pretty close to the planet now, last thing they needed was to screw up here.

25:04:34 Before Kiyar Attack On Serasian Shipyard
On Board the YT-2400 Spartan

Jerome sat in the pilot seat of the Spartan, a usual place for him. In fact, the rest of the crew barely ever saw him anywhere else. The co-pilots seat, usually reserved for Jason, was deserted. Jason, and most likely everyone else on board were asleep.

Jerome was an insomniac, among other things. But even he was nearing the wonderful land of sleep when the comm began to beep. Shaking his head, he cursed whoever was on the channel for robbing him of a few precious hours. But then his anger faded into curiosity as he wondered who was on the channel. Flipping the switch on, his voice was a mix of grogginess and anger.

"Jerome here."

"Mr. McCale," a voice with the crisp authority of a someone with too much power, "This is Captain Heilo of Patrol Group Alpha-Eight currently docked at Clakor..."



It was "night" on board the Spartan. While there was no night in space, the crew had to get sleep some time. So, due to convenience and sheer boredom, they had designated half of one standard day "daytime", and the other half "nighttime". It was a simple system, and it usually didn't go as far as hours, but who needed to know the exact time? In the boredom of space travel you didn't want to know.

Jason awoke, quite startled. He had probably been having nightmares again, but he could never remember a thing about them. Something to do with war, was all that he knew. But Jason suspected something else had awoken him, but he did not know what. He had fancied he heard a distant beeping the moment he had drifted between sleep and reality.

He finally decided that he might as well calm his nerves by taking a stroll around the ship. Pulling off the covers of his tiny cot, Jason noticed something strange at once. The gravity was still on. Jerome, stubbornly conservative and Captain, did not feel like refueling the power cells on board the ship every time they stopped in port, so many of the nonessential systems were shut down at night. Gravity was one of them.

That must mean someone was up. Most likely Jerome. He was a well-known insomniac, though he did not know the others knew. Jason knew exactly where he would be. Staring off into space. It struck the co-pilot strange how someone who had lived in it for so long could be so fascinated time and time again by the infinite nothingness that was outerspace.

Getting up, Jason pulled on socks to protect him from the freezing temperature of the floors (heat regulation was another nonessential system). The door to his room opened with a snap-hiss and he did not hesitate. He made his way straight toward the cockpit.

While Jason was expecting silence, that was not the case. A strange voice could be heard in the cockpit. A flash of confusion appeared on the co-pilot's face before he realized that it was over the comm system. He reached the door, and could now hear clearly what the man was saying. What he heard made him freeze in his tracks.

"....moment I am issuing a martial request from my sovereign planet of Kiyar, begging, nay pleading with any who hear this to come to my aid."

The man listed a series of coordinates before speaking further.

"At these coordinates is my home system of Andrega, where at this very moment a superior war force with devastating weapons is attempting to finish off my meager forces. I have naught the time to discuss the politics of the situation, but I must state that we are being brutally murdered, my women and children starving on the streets, and my military, or what is left of it, can no longer survive.

In one week's time we are expecting a full attack of both warships and weapons of mass destruction.

My men have risked their lives to get this message out to any. I beg of any who hear this to assist us at the given coordinates. I am willing to discuss any terms that any sovereign government is willing to address.

But please...help us before what is left of our culture and lives is obliterated in a flash of radiation.

President Kilam Blackh...out."

Silence enveloped the room. No one spoke. Jerome had apparently not noticed Jason's approach, and showed no signs of movement. Jason tried to step forward or call out his arrival, but he found that he was glued in place, unable to move. Another voice came over the comm system.

"As you can see, Mr. McCale, this is a very serious task, but I'm sure you're up to it."

"Of course." Jerome finally replied, "We'll be glad to."

"Excellent. Captain Heilo out."

The comm flickered off, and to Jason's surprise, Jerome did not make a witty remark, or grumble about the government, or even make a sound. He just went back to staring off into space as he had done before the he had received the message. Finally, Jason could bear it no longer, and he cleared his throat rather audibly to signify his presence.

"Wake up everyone else," Jerome said without turning, "Tell them to get ready for hyperspace. We're going to be rendezvousing with Patrol Group Alpha-Eight at Clakor. We've had the privateer card pulled on us. I'll brief you all on the way."

"Yes...yes thank you Captain...we are currently engaged, if you could devote your fighters to assist us I'd appreciate it, General Marec of the Space Force will contact you with that information..."

Kennel nodded, turning to Steele, "Contact Colonel Keyan and order him to assist the Kiyaran fighters--"

"New contacts appearing on screen!"

"Who?" Kennel asked.

"Tholatin Republic ships, and we also have a flotilla of unknowns." Steele reported.

"More contacts!"

"Now who?'

Steele stood up straight, his tone becoming deadly serious, "Imperial contacts. A VicStar and a few smaller ships."

Kennel cursed his luck silently, it was bad news if the Empire got involved, "Hail Kiyar again-"

"Sir, incoming transmission, it is the Tholatin forces." Steele interuppted.

""ORS vessel this is Kamon Vondiranach on the HMS Serene Insolence. I must say I didn't expect to see you here."

"Master Vondiranach, I could say the same of you. It appears our old Imperial friends have decided to yet again crash our party. I am under orders to assist the Kiyar Federation, our fighters are just about to launch. We are also about to send transports laden with food down to Kiyar, I would be appreciative if you could provide those ships cover while we help the Kiyarans deal with the Serasians."

"End channel. Open a new one to Kiyar." Kennel said.

"Done."

"President Blackh, this is Captain Kennel. I am ordering three transports with food and supplies to land on Kiyar, if you would accept them." He said, "End channel."

He turned to Steele, "Or escorts are to land on the planet and distribute their supplies to the populace as best as possible. Tell Keyan he is free to launch." He said, "I have to contact Bakura about recent developments."

As Kennel marched off, Steele turned to the in-ship comm system, "Colonel Keyan, this is Commander Steele, you are free to launch, I repeat, free to launch..."





Below - Flight Deck...


"Colonel Keyan, this is Commander Steele, you are free to launch, I repeat, free to launch..."

Artus Keyan nodded as he glanced up to the comm speaker that was positioned in the ceiling of the breifing room.

"Understood, bridge." He said, looking down at the seventy-two pilots that now sat before him. He was just wrapping the breif up.

"Myself and Blade sqaudron will assit the Kiyar fighters, with help from Silencer Squadron. The rest are to form up and screen the Solace and will provide backup where needed. Let's go!"

The hangar was adjacent to the breifnignroom and the pilots all headed to their ships - B-Wing fighters, A-Wing Fighters, and X-Wing fighters. Keyan's squadron was made up of X-Wings, while Silencer squadron was made up of A-Wings.

The entire wing of fighters then launched, with twenty-four of them breaking off to assit the Kiyaran forces at the shipyards.

"Kiyaran Forces, this is Blade One, we are here to assist..."




"Assit the Kiyarans by any means necessary, but also you are to assit our allies if they come under fire. Do not provoke the Serasians other than to help Kiyar. You are to provide a supporting role, not be at the front lines."

Captain Kennel sighed and sat back in his seat in front of the holoprojector in his office where a minerature hologram of Legion-General Keyan stood.

"Understood." He said

"And we are sending more supply transports from our outposts at nearby GC and ORS worlds. Once they arrive, make sure Kiyar gets them." Keyan said.

"Yes sir."

"Oh and Captain...make sure my son gets out of this alive, hm?" Keyan asked.

"Yes sir."