chapter 1-5
Chapter 1
Patrick
In the desolate space fields of the Outer Rim, a small ship floated in space, days away from any inhabited system. Life, Patrick Coleman bitterly thought, was often overrated. After fleeing from a full-fledged Imperial attack on a New Republic colony, the powerful, experimental, and probably illegal hyperdrive on his Skipray Blastboat had malfunctioned, barreling him far away from his intended course and resisting all of his attempts to stop it. Finally he had to overload it, cause it to burn out and drop him back into realspace. And now he was stuck here, alone, far away from any sort of help. He couldn't even call for help; the comm array on his ship had been too close to the hyperdrive and had been destroyed.
There wasn't any way out. Patrick sighed, looked out at the stars and wondered how long it would take him to die. 22 years old, and he's already going to die. What a waste. A twitter from Patrick's R2 droid caused him to look up. Just in time to see a fleet of ships arrive not 20 kilometers from his ship. With his comm system burned out, he couldn't go for help, just wait and hope the ships saw him.
Gent
"Sir, we have a ship on sensors. Looks like it's drifting," the sensor officer said on the bridge of the Corellian Gunship Gent's Revenge.
"Life support?"
"Yes sir."
"Dock with it. I'll go down there and see if anybody's in there."
As he strode down the corridors toward the docking hatch, Gent Jerrold took out his blaster pistol. At 23, he was the youngest mercenary chief he had ever heard of. As he rounded the corner and saw the docking hatch, he saw a tall, brown-haired young woman waiting for him.
"Inrisa! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be off-shift."
"I know, but I heard we had a visitor and wanted to check it out," she said with a grin on her face. Inrisa Solea was Gent's second-in-command and, though very few people knew it, Force-Sensitive.
Gent was reaching with his free hand to the hatch when it suddenly opened by itself. A tall, muscled young man stepped out. When he saw the blaster pistol, he raised his hands.
"Do you want to know who I am, or do you just want to shoot me?" the man asked with an innocent expression on his face.
"What's your allegiance?" Gent asked.
"I'm a merc, man. Same as you." He looked around. "Not as many ships, though."
Gent motioned toward Inrisa. "This lady is now going to submit you to a full weapons-scan, so if you have any concealed blasters or vibroblades, it would be best if you would tell us."
Gent almost smiled as Inrisa ran a normal datapad up and down the stranger's frame. In reality, she was using the Force to find any hidden weapons.
After a minute or two of searching, and finding nothing, Inrisa nodded at Gent. "He's clear."
"What's your name?"
"Patrick Coleman." The stranger seemed used to this kind of interrogation.
Gent now spoke into his comlink, running a full records scan to ensure that he really was a mercenary. Almost immediately he had a full background on the man, plus his ship name and registry number. Gent lowered his blaster.
"You're clear, Patrick. Now what's the problem with your ship?"
"Burned out hyperdrive and comm system."
"All right. We'll get some techs on it. Meanwhile, you probably want…"
Gent was cut off by the wailing of alert sirens and a blast that rocked the ship. He spoke quickly into his comlink and swore when he heard the answer. "Patrick, can you fly an A-wing?"
"Probably."
"Good. If you want to save your own hide, you'll get down to the hanger and fight."
Patrick sighed. "Why do I always get dragged into these things?"

Chapter 2
Patrick

Strapping himself into the A-wing, Patrick Coleman felt that kind of excitement that only came when going into space combat. He wouldn't get distracted by it, but the adrenaline would improve his reflexes. Throwing on his helmet, Patrick tuned the comm to the frequency Gent had given him. "Blaze 3 checking in," he said to the squadron of A-wings preparing to lift off.
"Roger, Blaze 3. Lift in 10 seconds."
The transponder said that came from Blaze Leader, but it was a woman's voice. Interesting. There weren't many woman mercenaries. Patrick shook the thought off as his R2 unit beeped the end of the ten second countdown.
"Blaze Squadron, lift. Form in wingman pairs two klicks from the Gent's Revenge," called Blaze Leader. "After that, choose your targets at will."
Patrick lifted his A-wing from the deck and gave it a little throttle coming out of the hanger. His fighter shot out of the hanger like a bullet. "Sithspawn!" he exclaimed. "Even standard A-wings aren't this fast!"
"Less chatter, Blaze 3," Blaze Leader quickly admonished with what seemed like a trace of amusement.
Patrick quickly got control of the fighter and joined up with his wingman, an absolutely huge man with a grip of iron. They joined the battle. It appeared that an Imperial task force had found the fleet and was making an all-out attempt to destroy it. TIE Fighters, Bombers, and Intercepters swarmed everywhere in a seemingly unlimited number.
It quickly became apparent that while Blaze Squadron had a lot of natural talent, very few of them had had any formal training. Patrick's wingman caught an unlucky break, colliding with a TIE Bomber early into the fight. After about ten minutes, the only fighters left of Blaze Squadron were Patrick and Blaze Leader. Things just kept getting worse and worse, Patrick thought.
Gent
Another explosion rocked the ship. "Status?" Gent asked.
"Shields down to 38 percent," the sensor officer replied.
Gent thought quickly. "What about the rest of the fleet?"
"The FireBlade is reporting shield holding steady. The rest of the fleet is dead in space."
The FireBlade was Inrisa's Corellian Corvette. The three Imperial Star Destroyers plus the Interdictor that was holding them here were minimally damaged, and most fighters on both sides had been destroyed. It was starting to look totally hopeless when a flash of inspiration hit Gent. He reached for the comm. "Inrisa, how's your tractor beam?"
Sounding puzzled, she replied, "100 percent, why?"
"All right," he responded. "I want you to grab the largest piece of debris you can see and hurl it toward the Interdictor."
Inrisa smiled. "Ah, I see."
The two ships each grabbed one of the dead ships and accelerated them towards the Interdictor Cruiser. The Cruiser, perhaps off guard, couldn't get it's own tractor beam in line quickly enough, and the pieces slammed into it.
Inrisa
Inrisa saw the Interdictor Cruiser explode, and heard the cheers of her crew. "All right," she said, stopping the celebration. "Now let's get out of..."
Her word were cut off by an explosion on the bridge. A rogue hunk of metal had slammed into the ship. Everything went black.
Patrick
Blaze Leader and Patrick were going on a strafing run on the Interdictor Cruiser when it blew up.
"Whoa! Look out!" Patrick exclaimed as he dodged debris from the explosion.
Off to his right somewhere, he saw a second smaller explosion. "I've been hit! Engines going critical! Ejecting now! Blaze 3, get out of here!"
Patrick watched as Blaze Leader's A-wing exploded, and saw an ejection seat rise out of it. The figure in the seat was slumped down & looked unconscious. "Gent's Revenge, Blaze Leader is EV," Patrick responded.
"Sorry, Coleman, can't get there."
Patrick swore to himself. Odds were that Blaze Leader would get hit by a piece of something, unless he did something. He thought hard.
Wait a second. This A-wing had already been modified a little. Maybe, just maybe....Yes! There was a control panel for a small tractor beam. Patrick homed in on Blaze Leader. When she got near enough to the cockpit, Patrick opened the canopy.
A rush of air exited the cockpit, trying to bring Patrick with it. A personal magcon field quickly started up, providing Patrick with a few more minutes of air. He reached to the controls, activated the tractor, and brought Blaze Leader inside. When he was sure she was totally inside, he pressed the canopy close button. Nothing happened.

Chapter 3

A few things that I missed in the beginning:
1. This starts about a year after Endor.
2. This is based on an RPG played with a friend I had (thanks to Coleman for that).
3. Disclaimer: I do not own SW. George Lucas does. So there.
4. Finally, I am going to try to milk this for all it is worth. It may even go into the dozens of chapters :).
Now, to the story...

Patrick

Patrick hit the canopy close button again. Again nothing happened. He triggered the comm. "Gent's Revenge, I've got a problem. Need pickup."
"We'll try to get to you, Blaze 3, but no promises."
"If you can't get here in ten minutes, don't bother coming." Patrick's heart sank as he realized that again, he stood a better-than-even chance of dying.
Inrisa
Inrisa woke up on the bridge of the FireBlade with a massive headache. She rolled over, groaned, and realized they were still in the battle. She stood up, still slightly groggy, and looked around. Only a few of the bridge officers were still alive. "Status?" she called.
"Shields holding, Gent's Revenge says it's picking up an EV pilot and then leaving."
"All right. Follow their exit vector."
That's when the fourth Star Destroyer came.
Gent
"Sir, we've got Coleman and Shala. Preparing for jump...Star Destroyer coming out of hyperspace on our exit vector!" the sensor officer called.
"Sithspawn! Go evasive, find another exit!" Gent realized it was probably a futile command.
"Yessir. Let's see...got another exit!"
"Good. Tell FireBlade to follow."
"Sir, FireBlade reports their steering systems are nonoperational. They are abandoning ship."
Gent watched as the Gent's Revenge picked up the escape pods and went to hyperspace.
Shala
Shala Jerrold woke up in the medical bay of the Gent's Revenge. Her body hurt all over, and she had a throbbing headache.
"Hey, sis."
Shala jumped. "Jeez, you scared me!"
Gent smiled. "A good frightening never hurt anyone."
"Ask Dad."
"Good point. So how are you doing?"
"Not sure. But if what I am feeling is any indication, my body is trying to tear itself apart." All of a sudden, Shala remembered what had happened before she passed out. "Who got me back, anyway?"
"Blaze 3."
"How'd he do that?"
"You don't really want to know." Gent frowned. "I can't wait to get back in action. Right now the Gent's Revenge and 7 fighters are all we have left."
"Yuck. Where are we headed?"
"A spaceport in the Konher system, where mercenaries are welcome. Instead of here."
Gent turned around and left. Shala just kept staring at the wall, wondering when this whole thing would be over.
Inrisa
Inrisa was manning the communications console when the message came through. "Gent, we have a message."
Gent came up behind her and watched the message play. "So someone's finally trying to get the mercenaries together. Navigation!"
"Yes sir?"
"Set a path for Coruscant. We have business to discuss."

To be continued...

Chapter 4

Notes: 1. If you want a disclaimer, go read Chapter 3.
2. Every 5 chapters or so, I will post these again, so you can catch all the chapters you missed.
3. This section is rated PG.

Inrisa

Inrisa sighed, watching the seven remaining fighters doing maneuvers outside. It was one of those nights where she just couldn't sleep. Something was bothering her. This feeling always seemed to come the night before some major change in her life. It had come the night before the Emperor died, and she didn't have to worry about being found and killed. It came the night before the whole mess that led her to Gent. It happened 3 nights ago, before the near-destruction of Gent's fleet. And it was happening now. She sighed again, got dressed, and left her quarters. If she couldn't sleep, might as well be somewhere she could be useful.
Patrick
The galaxy was out to get him, Patrick thought. He had been in mortal danger twice in the last week, had his ship nearly destroyed, and was stuck now on the Gent's Revenge, going to somewhere he really didn't want to go. Oh, well. Better than being dead.
His comlink beeped at him. "Yeah?"
"We're coming up on Coruscant." It was Gent's voice. "If you want, you can come down with us. We could use the help."
"All right. Then maybe I'll be able to get my ship repaired and get out of here."
"Be at the shuttle bay in 5 minutes."
Gent
As the shuttle landed on Coruscant, Gent got a sudden feeling of unease, like he wasn't supposed to be here. Shake it off, he said to himself. He took a deep breath and walked flanked by Patrick, Inrisa, and Shala, he walked down the ramp. Waiting at the bottom was an absolutely huge man with a bushy beard. Gent stuck out his hand. "Gent Jerrold."
"Security Chief Alto Hagman. And your crew..."
"Yes." Gent motioned to his right. "My sister and crew member, Shala. My second in command, Inrisa Solea. And Patrick Coleman."
"Ah, very well. Come this way, please."
Inrisa
As the Security Chief led them down a hallway, Inrisa couldn't shake that feeling of dread. The hallway ended at a door, where the man keyed in an entry code and led them into a giant conference room. Their group was apparently the last ones there. All of the two dozen small tables were filled with other mercenaries and their bodyguards. Gent, Patrick and Shala sat down, but Inrisa remained standing. Bagman strode to the front of the room. "Ladies and gentleman, our host will be here shortly. Until then..." he snapped his fingers, "entertainment!"
Inrisa started wondering what the entertainment would be when the Security Chief disappeared. From two doors in the front of the room came 50 or 60 stormtroopers. "Put your hands up! Drop your weapons now!" the leader shouted.
There was an immediate outburst from the crowd. "We've been sold out!" cried a large woman.
Inrisa couldn't tell who fired first, but soon every blaster in the room was firing. Gent quickly toppled the table to create a shield between them and the stormtroopers. "We're in throuble!" Inrisa shouted. Then the grenade went off.

Chapter 5

1. If you want a disclaimer, read Chapter 4.
2. A few days after I post this, I will post all the chapters together.
Patrick
Patrick lay on the floor, his ears ringing and vision swimming. Vaguely he could hear blaster shots and shouted commands. All of a sudden there was a crash, and the amount of blaster fire coming from the stormtroopers direction lessened. He saw Gent leaning over him.
"Patrick, you there?"
Patrick groaned and sat up. "I'm here. Can we go now?"
"Yeah. Come on."
The two men and two women ran across the romm, staying low so they wouldn't attract blaster fire. They were within ten feet of the door when three stormtroopers came out of it. Patrick raised his blaster and fired, two shots that took the middle one in the stomach. Gent got the other two, but not before they were able to get a few shots off. Patrick dropped to the ground, and the bolts flew over his head. But Shala was behind him and the sight of the blaster bolts had been blacked by Patrick's body. When he looked behind, she was laying on the ground, a smoking wound in her stomach. Patrick ran back to her.
She was still breathing, but raggedly. The shot had been partially absorbed by body armor, but enough of it had gotten through to have hurt her badly. "Gent, we have to-"
Gent and Inrisa were taking cover from the crossfire in the doorway. "Get her and let's go!" he interrupted. "We've got medical facilities on the ship!"
Patrick scooped Shala up in his arms and ran for the door. He got through safely and they headed for the ship.
Gent
Gent looked at Coruscant from orbit in the bridge of the Gent's Revenge. Whoever was behind this, he thought, would pay dearly, even if Shala survived. Especially if Shala survived.
The bridge hatch opened and Inrisa stepped through. "How's Shala?" Gent asked.
"She'll make it. It was close, though."
"Good. Someone is going to pay for that."
"Yeah." She was silent for a minute. "You ever get the feeling that we shouldn't be involved in this at all?"
"Every time something happens and someone gets hurt."
"Yeah."
They were both silent for a minute, and then Gent got up and streched. "I'm going down to the medical bay. You want to come?"
"Sure."
They both strode from the bridge.