Freedom Flight.
True courage is not the absence of fear, it is the conquering of it.
"By the Emperor's black heart, what sort of a stunt was that, Liz?"
"Give me some credit, Kay, it was an evasive maneuver!"
"Sure, if you were 'evading' a beached goober-fish! You would have been vapebait for an Imp on a bad-"
"Kids."
The warning tone of Captain Wedge Antilles crackling through their group channel ended the banter between the pilots. Private Elisa Starcarol, nicknamed 'Liz', muted her mic, and sighed. She had thought that was a clever move, sort of a standard corkscrew spin while reversing thrusters, but it sounded like it didn't have the effect she hoped it would. The Captain wasn't complaining, but he didn't compliment her either, so it looked like the effort didn't fly.
Metaphorically speaking.
"Alright, that's enough on the solo maneuvers, resume cruise configuration" Captain Antilles ordered, his voice cool and always reassuring. "Form up behind me, double dagger and prepare for re-entry."
I guess that's it for today, Elisa mused as she retracted the S-foils and brought her X-Wing alongside her lead, Ensign Keven 'Kayman' Jaks. The six ship squadron fell into two three-ship units, Hoth and Death Star veteran Captain Wedge Antilles heading up the newly formed 'Sarlaac' Squadron.
It was an honor for a new pilot – Elisa had only completed flight school three months ago – to even be in the same flight as the famed 'Rouge Leader', one of the best pilots the Alliance had ever seen, a solid second to his friend – and Jedi-in-training – Luke Skywalker. Considering that Skywalker had 'the Force' to enhance and sharpen his senses, Wedge Antilles' rivaling of the hero of Yavin IV was all the more stunning.
Almost as stunning as his flawless face, rich brown hair, unshakable nerve, athletic figure, winning smile and charmingly unassuming personality.
Silly teenager ogling aside, Elisa had other reasons for wanting to make a good impression on the young Captain. She had always hoped that one day, she too could qualify to fly with the Rogue Squadron, and have her X-Wing marked with the red stripes and infamous insignia of the elite fighter unit that, for many, symbolized the strengths and hopes of the entire Rebel Alliance. To scream over the heads of Imperial tyrants and let the whole wide galaxy know that resistance was never futile. Not even the planet-vaping Death Star could stand in their way.
It was why she had signed on with the Alliance in the first place, despite the protests of her loved and much-missed family. Her parents were secretly Rebel sympathizers, though they could make no open show of their opinions on the Core world of Belasco, and Elisa had been exposed to the horrific reality of the Empire, its formation and its methods, since the day she was old enough to stomach it. Her father, a Republic combat pilot prior to the Clone Wars, had worked tirelessly to establish in his children's minds the principles of liberty and democracy that he had sworn to and fought for in his younger days. Her mother showed them images and vids from the HoloNet, unforgettable scenes like the Ghorman Massacre and Telfrey Holocaust.
Her parents had hoped that such education would deter their children from joining the Imperial Starcorps, and from becoming desensitized to the brutality of the Empire, by peer pressure and propaganda.
They hadn't expected it to spur their only daughter to join the resistance.
But in the end, her parents gave their assent, fully knowing that they would likely never see Elisa again. Aside from the perils of war, no active duty member of the Alliance could enter a Core world without express permission and utmost secrecy; the risks were too great. Even her two older brothers knew nothing of her activity since the day she was whisked away by disguised Alliance recruitment agents, then blindfolded and shipped to a remote base in the Outer Rim, to begin her new life.
It had been more than two years, since that day. Two full years in training and orientation. But now, after the intense, often grueling days of boot camp and flight school, it was beginning to pay off. Now, she had her wings, commanded one of the best starfighters in the galaxy, had survived her first five combat missions, and was serving under the command of the dashing Captain Wedge Antilles.
Well, she was flying with him, anyways. And maybe… someday.
With another sigh, Elisa pushed away her idle daydreams of red stripes and handsome hotshot pilots, and concentrated on keeping her position within their formation, without coming too close to the testy Kayman's lancing tips…
"Watch it, Liz! A kriffing good sneeze and we're swapping paintjobs!"
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Elisa addressed her astromech, "Fivey, give me ninety percent on the inertial compensator." The droid beeped its assent. It was a bit disconcerting to feel the weightlessness of space set in as the artificial gravity dropped, but it also allowed for more intuitive control, or so the pros said. Flying by the seat of the pants and all that kriff.
"Switch all deflectors to front, prepare for re-entry."
"You heard him, Fivey," Elisa called out, checking her dive flaps. The muddy green sphere of Reginard filled her viewscreen as Sarlaac flight prepared to penetrate the planet's thick, humid atmosphere. Her locator had already locked on to the base's encrypted transponder, and now it was only a matter of hitting the navpoints as the flight neared Reginard Base's landing platform.
It was Wedge's last flight with the new squad, and soon Sarlaac Squadron would be official and deployed to who knows where, and the famous Captain would move on to assess other units. Maybe another day, she'd get her chance.
Suddenly alarms filled the cockpit. Emergency transmission indicators lit the control panel in crimson as Elisa scrambled to reset the sirens and accept the distress signal.
"Calling any and all Alliance craft, this is the High Command Cruiser Endeavor," a strained male voice sounded over each pilot's headset. "We've been pulled out of hyperspace and separated from our escort. Engaged by nine ISDs, one Interdictor, indeterminate number of fighters. We need immediate reinforcements!"
The multilayered signal was already feeding coordinates into the X-Wings' navacomputers as the officer continued to rattle off details of the emergency. "We can't jump until the Interdictor is neutralized. We have no fighters aboard. Long range communications are jammed."
Elisa whispered orders to her astromech. "Patch those coordinates in, Fivey, and get us ready for-"
The words froze in her mouth as the officer spoke the words she had known only from boot camp. The words every Rebel soldier feared most.
"Our cargo is hot."
Cargo is hot.
Translated: The vessel was carrying the core of the Alliance High Command. Commander-in-chief Mon Mothma, General Carlist Rieekan, and Princess Leia Organa. The leaders, the masterminds that kept the Alliance alive and strong through their darkest hours, who were the personification of hope and freedom throughout the galaxy, for every oppressed citizen and fugitive. Rouge Squadron might represent the arm of the Rebellion, but these men and women were the heart and soul of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. They were the future of freedom and democracy in the galaxy.
And they were at the mercy of an Imperial Starfleet, to be either vaporized or taken captive. No hyperspace jump, no fighters, no support craft.
"Filswik!" Kayman swore over the headset. "Can't the kriffing brass keep their own choobies out of-"
"Sarlaac flight!" Captain Antilles' urgent command cut off the pilot's protest. "All units assume those coordinates. We're the only fighters that can reach the Endeavor in time. Loosen formation and prepare for lightspeed."
Elisa wasted no time bringing her X-Wing around to clear the planet as Sarlaac flight scrambled to assume the calculated trajectory. This is it. She'd flown in combat before, but this was different. This was a crisis. This was her moment to prove her skill and and her courage, along with her squad mates. Six fighters. Ten Star Destroyers.
And the future of the Alliance in the balance.
Fivey whistled the all clear, and Elisa pulled the lever. The lightspeed alarm wailed its warning, and the starscape stretched to infinity.
As the streaked sky of hyperspace folded in on itself, Elisa wasted not a second to resume communications with her squadron. They materialized on either side of her within seconds, and Captain Antilles immediately began giving orders.
"All wings, report in," Wedge's voice was surprisingly calm, his trademark coolness already settling in even as they prepared to engage the enemy.
"Green two, standing by," Lieutenant Evan Landee answered first, followed by his wing Private Hermione Ridds, flying Green three.
Private Sela Naara, a young Twi'lek male, flying as Wedge's wingman, was next. "Green five, standing by," he announced, with a faint native accent.
Kayman's voice was deadly as he called in. "Green six, standing by."
Elisa felt her knees quivering even beneath her zero-G straps. "Green seven, standing by," she called in, hoping her voice sounded steady as she began combing her sensors for the battle site.
"Bandits at six o'clock!" Lieutenant Landee shouted, just as the IFF sensors began to pick up the hostile signals.
"Form up behind me and break left." There was hardly a trace of nervousness in Wedge's voice; the man possessed an unbreakable calm when things heated up. Elisa hurried to bring her fighter around, watching as the red dots on her scope swung into her line of sight.
She stifled a gasp. "Oh my."
The battle – if it could even be called that – was in full swing, the distinctive diamonds silhouettes of the Imperial Star Destroyers heading directly towards the rebels as the massive starships pursued the fleeing Endeavor. The bulbous Alliance vessel had already taken substantial damage, and the ISDs hadn't even opened fire yet. Swarms of round, silver specks reflected the light of nearby nebulae as they made pass after pass against the beleaguered Mon Calamari cruiser, while the Star Destroyers stalked it, waiting their time to strike.
"Sarlaac flight, set all deflectors double front and disregard all fighters, our only target is the Interdictor-class ISD at four and nine. Repeat, disregard all fighters."
Elisa could practically hear Kayman cursing already, from the privacy of his cockpit. The double ace was a little bit obsessed with TIEs, and he had a record to prove his mettle.
"Lock S-Foils in attack positions," Wedge ordered as the flight closed the gap between them and the Imperial hoard. Elisa raised her right arm to bring her X-Wing into combat readiness. The servomotors hummed as the foils extended, forming the iconic 'X' profile the fighter was known for.
"Mark the Interdictor on your targeting computer, arm proton torpedoes. We'll make a run on the bridge."
Elisa confirmed her four torpedoes were primed and ready, even as she scanned the black sky for incoming 'boogies'. This is going to be hell. A mere six X-Wings, flying what was essentially a straight and level bombing run amidst at least a agile hundred TIE fighters.
It didn't take long for their presence to be recognized, and a couple dozen of the 'eyeballs' peeled off from the main attack run, making for the approaching Rebel fighters.
"Bandits incoming!"
"Steady Green five," Wedge warned his wingman. "Accelerate to attack speed."
Elisa passed on the order to her astromech, her eyes glued to the rapidly approaching fighters, gleaming like dim stars as they moved to intercept the X-Wings.
"We're coming in range," Kayman called out, tension in his gruff voice.
"Hold your fire, we need every shot to count. Green three, Green seven," Elisa snapped to attention at the sound of her callsign, "torpedoes, now!"
Reflex took over. Elisa punched the targeting computer, and as the lock tone growled through her headset she squeezed off two of her four proton charges towards the TIEs. Another pair from Ridds' ship were not far behind.
"Sarlaac flight, break hard left!"
The six X-Wings swooped, pivoting on their starboard S-foils as they struggled to throw off the imminent barrage. The two pairs of torpedoes hurtled into the gaggle of TIEs, and Elisa saw several explosions register on her scope as she pulled her fighter around.
Unfortunately, none of them were hers. As Sarlaac flight came out of the turn Elisa saw her carelessly aimed rounds sailing harmlessly past their targets, clear evidence of an overshot on the part of an over-eager fighter-jock-wannabe.
Ridds, a younger pilot, was galaxies more lucky, her torpedoes chalking up the only kills of the salvo. "I got them! I got them!"
Elisa almost groaned in misery at her miss, even though she knew it was silly to think of impressing the Captain in the heat of battle. For his part, despite her obvious rookie error, Wedge's voice held an even note of praise for both pilots. "Good shot, girls, that'll break up their formation, now hold your fire."
Wedge's careful encouragement did little to raise Elisa's spirits - she knew Kayman was going to rib her forever in the mess after that performance - but any disillusionment she might have felt was gone in an instant as they were plunged into the mynock's nest. The Endeavor filled the viewscreen as Sarlaac flight came within meters of the massive ship, their aggressive maneuvering and cutting across the lines of fire forcing several TIEs to break off their runs to avoid collisions. The fleeing Mon Cal cruiser sped beneath them, and as they left it behind Elisa couldn't help but shiver at the intimidating sight.
Ten Star Destroyers. Nine Imperial class, in the unmistakeable diamond cross section that every Alliance pilot knew all too well. And one of the dreaded Interdictor class, a highly specialized variant that was designed fir the sole purpose of pulling ships out of hyperspace, and prevent them from returning.
How they had gotten the coordinates for the Endeavor's jump was a mystery. It seemed like an inside job, as horrible as that would be. But it didn't matter now. They had to disable that ship, and allow the Endeavor to make her escape.
The Imps knew it too. The 'bubble ship' was flanked on all quadrants by the heavily-armed ISDs, creating a seamless field of fire to welcome any comers. This isn't going to be easy.
"Full throttle, kids, we're going in." The pink glow of Wedge's sublight engines flared a bright red as the X-Wing rocketed towards the capital ships. The remaining pilots quickly followed suite, bringing their fighters up to terminal velocity.
But by this point they had company.
"I got two of them on my tail!" Ridds called, her voice bordering on frantic.
Elisa's stomach lurched; in an attack run with this configuration, the X-Wing was distinctly vulnerable from behind.
"Calm down, Green five," Wedge ordered, his tone calm and almost soothing. "Stay on course, I'll clear you."
With that, Wedge's X-Wing seemed to disappear, as a quick thrust reversal brought his craft into what must have been a gut wrenching tumble. Elisa couldn't see what the Captain actually pulled off once he fell behind, but she heard Ridds' sigh of relief. "Thanks, Green leader."
Wedge's fighter roared back into the lead, and Elisa was about to allow herself to feel some relief when all hell broke loose.
At least four wings of TIEs came screaming at them from three o' clock. Streaks of red lit up the blackness of space as a barrage of laser bolts began peppering the Rebels. "Take evasive action!" Wedge called, before breaking hard right.
Elisa broke left, following Kayman as Sarlaac flight scattered before the withering Imperial fire. The two X-Wings went into a barrel roll, trying to throw off the Imperial targeting systems. Fivey screamed in alarm as two bolts struck Elisa's port S-foil. "Hang in there buddy," she spoke between clenched teeth. "Give twenty five percent to the rear deflectors, that should hold them back for a while."
But not for long. Elisa tried to get a visual on the Interdictor, but it wasn't in her field of view any longer. Another Imperial fighter screamed past her wing on the port side, before looping back for another strike. "Kayman!" she shouted. "Can you see the target?"
"Negative," Kayman's voice was severe and calculated. "I'm trying to get a lock on my targeting computer, but it's a bit busy over here-"
A string of curses erupted over the comm as Green Six took a solid hit from behind. Kayman broke right, cutting across Elisa's path. "I'll take him out, Kay!" she shouted, slamming her fighter in reverse thrust mode to get on the unseen TIE's tail.
Sure enough, the globular fighter roared along Kayman's trajectory, and directly into Elisa's sights. A quick burst, and the Imp was reduced to mere sparks.
"Thanks, Liz," Kayman ground out, still maneuvering to stay out from under the hundred or so TIEs still hunting.
"My pleasure," Elisa called back, feeling a bit smug at her success.
Wedge's voice again crackled through their squad channel. "Sarlaac, all units get to the bubble ship and form up! The Endeavor is taking severe damage, they can't last much longer."
Elisa forced back her victor's jubilation. It isn't over, not by a long shot. "Do you have the target, Kay?"
A short pause, then her lead responded, "Got em, let's go."
Thank the Force. Elisa slammed her throttle to the wall, as the two X-Wings made for the impromptu rendezvous.
"There it is," Kayman called, as the Imperial starfleet filled their view.
Nestled among the intimidating Imperial warships was the Interdictor, resembling a typical ISD overall, but with four large domes – hence the nickname, 'bubble' – housing the grav-well generators, that could pull any vessel within range out of hyperspace and into Imperial hands.
"This is it, kids," Wedge warned. "Make for the bridge, we have to take this boy out."
Elisa's eyes widened at the sight; this was the largest Imperial fleet she'd seen in battle yet. Even a single Star Destroyer was a fearsome foe for a full flight of X-Wings, to fight them outnumbered was suicide.
But so were most missions, for the Alliance.
We just have to get past them, once we knock the bubble ship out we're home free. Steeling herself, Elisa brought her own targeting computer online, and locked onto the target vessel. In a matter of seconds, they were within range of the ISD fire.
And hell just got that much hotter.
The massive turbolaser batteries opened up on the X-Wings as they struggled to regain formation. Wave upon wave of red bolts flashed past Elisa and Kayman, obscuring their vision. Fivey wailed in warning, as several bolts struck the stabilizer. "Try to fix it, Fivey, I'll get us out of here as soon as I can."
The droid beeped in mournful acquiescence, and Elisa tried to at least keep her wingman in sight as the enemy fire forced the Rebel pilots further apart. "Make for the bridge!" Wedge shouted. "Disregard formation, all pilots make for the bridge and give it everything you've got!"
"You heard him, Liz," Kayman called put over their wing channel. "It's showtime."
Elisa winced as another red bolt found it's mark. "I'm not sure I like how this movie ends."
"Follow my lead," Kayman ordered. "We'll skim the diamond and try and stay under their fire."
Green six veered hard left, making a collision course for the nearest Imperial warship. Elisa followed only a ship's length behind. The underside of the massive hull became a horizon as the pair came within a hundred meters of the vessel, jinking at the last minute to avoid impact. As they ran the length of the ISD from bow to stern, proximity alarms blaring, Elisa could just make out the looming gray hulk of the Interdictor coming up on their starboard side.
"We're cutting this close, Kay," Elisa called, apprehension growing as they neared the target. "I don't know if we have the umph to get through that kind of shielding."
"We'll find out, then, won't we?" Kayman snapped, as he pulled his fighter into a spin and sped for the next ISD.
Elisa grimaced under her helmet, and followed her lead. Over the squadron comm, she could hear that the remainder of Sarlaac Flight was having a rough one. Cries of "I'm hit!" and "Get him off me!" rang far too often for such a small group of ships, and the calmer voices of Captain Antilles and Lieutenant Landee, the most experienced pilots on the flight, were often lost as the two newbies fought against their own panic as well as the Imperial snubfighters.
"It looks like we're on our own, Liz," Kayman's voice was grim. "I don't think the rest can get past the TIEs."
"Wedge can do it, he always can!" Elisa protested, desperate to believe that the powers of renown and past exploits would somehow provide assurance of their ultimate success. I know he's not invincible, but he's the best of us!
"He can't shoot things that are put of range, rookie," Kayman shot back as he led the pair on another hair raising pass of a second ISD. "On my mark, break for the target, aim for the bridge."
Elisa swallowed. It's just us. If we can't do this now the Alliance as we know it is over. "Right behind you, Kay," she answered, putting as much strength into her voice as she could.
The rows of turbolasers and docking bays blurred as they sped past the hull. "Steady, steady, now!"
Elisa strained against the artificial G-forces as the two fighters snapped into a roll towards the Interdictor. The moment they left behind the 'shelter' of the enemy battleship at least five ISDs worth of turbolasers greeted them with fire of unimaginable density. "Even out the deflectors, Fivey!" Elisa screamed at her wailing astromech. "We can't take this much longer."
"Stay on target!" Kayman shouted, as the two X-Wings weathered the deadly hail. The Interdictor was closing with them head-on, the bridge dead ahead. "Arm torpedoes! Mark my aim!"
"I'm trying!" Elisa yelled back, bucking her fighter to try an avoid the worst of the bolts. "I don't know if there'll be anything left of me if-"
"Fire!"
On instinct, Elisa slammed the trigger down. The bridge of the Imperial vessel rushed beneath them as the torpedoes left their tubes. She squeezed off several rounds of laser for good measure, the green bolts almost blinding her as the warship disappeared beneath them. I need to fix those flashback suppressors as soon as we get home.
"What did we get?" Kayman asked as he pulled his X-Wing to a spiral dive past the Interdictor's stern.
Elisa scanned the 'look-back' display with anxious eyes. Her heart fell as the image formed. "Minimal penetration," she groaned. "We didn't break their shields."
This time, Kayman didn't swear, which could only mean things were really bad. The turbolasers fell silent for a short moment as the Rebels disappeared into the wake of the Interdictor's exhaust signature. Before either of them could speak, Wedge's frantic voice rang in their ears.
"Green six! Green seven! Do you copy?" The Captain sounded more distressed than Elisa thought possible. "Where the hell are you?"
Kayman answered, "We just made a pass on the target, minimal damage. We're going around for a second run."
Elisa froze at her lead's announcement. A second run? I have no torpedoes left!
"We're counting on you, Kayman," Wedge warned. "The Star Destroyers are in range and are hammering the Endeavor's hyperdrive. We're falling back to hold them off, but if you can't burst that bubble in the next thirty seconds she's not going to be able to make lightspeed."
Kayman probably responded with something swaggerly and bold, but Elisa wasn't listening. This can't be. The Alliance is depending on us, and I don't have any kriffing ammo. The two torpedoes Kayman had left would never be enough to break the Imperial shields.
Trembling, Elisa opened her mouth to tell her lead she had no heavy ammunition left, that there was no point in a second run, that she'd already failed her comrades and Captain Antilles and the Alliance and Mom and Dad and every sentient that longed for freedom and justice in the galaxy.
She opened her mouth, and then she hesitated.
She knew what she was going to do.
"Ready for round two, Liz?"
Kayman's voice was grim but with a touch of his signature bravado. Elisa took a deep breath before answering, "Always, Kay."
Green six doubled back towards the enemy vessel, Elisa following close behind. As the two fighters left the heat shroud of the warship they were greeted warmly by a fresh storm of laser. Alarms blared, Fivey squealed in protest, and for once Elisa didn't have any peppy words for the droid. Slamming on the etheric rudder, she threw her X-Wing into a tumbling spiral, narrowly avoid a concentrated blast.
The Star Destroyers – seemingly stationary from the perspective of the maneuvering fighter pilots – filled the black sky with their silver forms. Blinking points of red from hundreds of manual and automated turbolasers lit up the massive warships as they poured fire onto the desperate Rebel pair.
"Break right!" Kayman roared over the comm. "On my mark reverse thrusters and follow me, we'll make a run from their seven o' clock!"
Elisa responded in the affirmative, groaning against the strain of the sudden turn. The Interdictor slipped behind them, and the Rebels rushed to put the necessary distance between them an their target, for an accurate run
"Reverse thrusters!" Kayman shouted, sending his fighter careening backwards towards the Interdictor. Elisa followed suite, hurriedly working to stabilize her ship for the attack.
"Lock onto the bridge!"
Elisa brought up the targeting computer, and dialed in the enemy signature.
The bridge was in her sights, Kayman's fighter between her and the target. Elisa's hands crushed the yoke with a death grip as she trailed her wingman.
She could hardly believe she was doing this. She almost didn't believe it, in fact. It felt like she was back in flight school, thrown into an impossible mission scenario by a cranky instructor. Realistic, terrifying, but in the end, everything was okay. It wasn't real.
"Arm torpedoes!"
This was real. She wouldn't be climbing out of the sim after this mission. There'd be no good-natured ribbing from her squadmates over her slip-ups. No more late nights with Fivey tinkering with her ship. No more daydreaming about brown-haired hotshot pilots with calming voices and battle-hardened eyes that framed an inner tenderness.
"Mark my aim, Liz, this is it."
This was it. Her family would never be reunited, even if this war did end one day. Kale would never get a response to that message he'd sent his little sister, last week. There'd be no more monthly comm calls to Mom and Dad.
She wondered if Captain Antilles would be the one to tell her parents what had happened.
"Steady... steady..."
Her hand fell to the ejection pin, trembling involuntarily. Maybe she could make it. Maybe she didn't have to go in. Maybe she could punch out just before impact...
But if I miss… if I bail out and this ship goes past and…
She couldn't. She wouldn't. There was no room for error. She wouldn't fail now.
"Fire!"
Time went into low gear. She saw the flash of the torpedoes as they left Kayman's racks, saw the trail of ionized vapors the proton charges left in their wake. Her lead's X-Wing veered off to clear the way for her run. She watched the missiles impact the Imperial vessel's bridge deflectors, chewing a shallow hole in the shield.
She nosed her fighter over till the target was centered in her gunsights, growing larger and larger. She heard Kayman shouting and screaming at her to pull out.
The impact alarm wailed in her headset. Fivey screeched. She felt the shuddering of her X-Wing as it smashed through the newly weakened shield. The invisible barrier pinned her to her seat, her shoulders wrenched against the powerful force field. Her visor shattered, spraying her face with shards of transparisteel.
The starboard S-foils sheared off in a shower of sparks, sending the fighter into an flat spin.
The yoke went slack. She had no more controls.
"Force," she whispered over the scream of twisting steel, "don't let me miss now."
She saw the Interdictor viewports spiral towards her, Imperial personnel scrambling to clear the bridge.
The Force was with her, she knew it.
She wasn't going to miss.
"They did it! The grav-well is down!"
"Get clear Admiral! Good luck!"
Wedge breathed a sigh of relief as the Endeavor was freed of the Interdictor's field, and disappeared into hyperspace, taking its precious cargo with it. "Sarlaac flight, jump to rendezvous B and regroup."
Several affirmative replies echoed in his headset before he pulled the lever, leaving the chaoatic scene behind. The jump was short, less than a minute realtime, and his heart was still threatening to beat its way out of his chest when the battered X-Wing cleared hyperspace.
"All wings report in, status."
Wedge knew losses would be too high. They were always too high. He lost his wingman, Private Naara; the young Twi'lek had panicked and collided with an incoming TIE while trying to shake one off his tail. Wedge had also lost visual contact with Private Ridds, and minimal comm traffic from Kayman and Liz.
"Green two, damage to the stabilizers but I'm okay."
"Green three, banged up but I'll make it."
Wedge glanced around the viewscreen at his fellow pilots as they formed up. "Green six, Green seven, call in."
"Green six here, I'm fine. Green seven took out the bridge."
Was she shot down? Wedge opened his mouth to ask when realization came.
Elisa. Force, no.
"Ensign, where is she?" Lieutenant Landee demanded, "did you leave her behind?"
Kayman's voice was sullen. "I think she left us behind, Lieutenant."
"What the-"
"She was out of ammo," Wedge breathed, his heart twisting inside. "She'd used two torpedoes already."
Private Ridds gasped, as the survivors realized in an instant what their comrade had done.
Wedge closed his eyes, giving a silent remembrance to his comrade, his sister-in-arms, a rookie, a hopeful, who had answered a call of duty that every Alliance member venerated and honored; and feared for when it might come for them.
Nothing could ever undo Alderaan. Nothing could make right the atrocities of the Empire. Nothing could bring back what was lost.
But Wedge knew now that nothing would silence the cry for freedom and justice. Even if Luke's mystical powers somehow failed them in the future, the Emperor and his minions could never crush them. Not when there were ordinary men and women like Elisa Starcaroll, who would go up against the most impossible odds, and make the ultimate sacrifice for the cause of liberty.
One pilot. One fighter. One tragedy. And one step closer to freedom.
"Sarlaac flight, return home."
Author's Note: On September 11, 2001, two Air National Guard pilots were scrambled to bring down what we know as United Flight 93, which was believed to be headed to strike the White House. In the rush of the emergency, Lt. Heather Penny and her flight lead Col. Marc Sasseville, were sent after the hijacked airliner without missiles or cannon; the only weapon they had available was their own aircraft.
Due to the heroic actions of the passengers of Flight 93, the ANG pilots never did have to use themselves as human missiles, and it seems their story has faded some in light of the more dramatic accounts of that fateful day. But as an aspiring pilot myself, this account was rather stirring for me, and inspired this little tale. Several of Elisa's lines are adapted from Penny's own words, including her decision not to eject from her doomed fighter.
My prayers are with those who lost so much 10 years ago today. May God bless you all.
PS: (Thanks to laloga for her last minute beta'ing of this piece!)