Han slightly flinched as one of the laser cannon shots fired by one of the TIE fighters on the Falcon's tail stopped meters away from his position, a fortunate victim of the still-holding shields on the heavily modified YT-1300. With a quick pull of the trigger, the offending TIE fighter was swatted down like a pesky insect, the quad cannon's shots converging right in the center of the balled cockpit. A clean kill.
The Dreadnaught-class ship was keeping the pace of the Falcon, the Wookiee pilot Chewbacca having to assume a relatively straight course to get out of the planet's gravity shadow.
"How much longer, Chewie?" Han asked as he squeezed off another shot towards a TIE fighter.
Give me another minute, Chewie replied at the helm. We're almost ready to start the computations.
"Now would be a good time, Chewie!" he exclaimed as another TIE fighter screamed towards him. He could feel the quad cannons vibrating in his hands as he swept the gun towards his pursuer, a steady stream of crimson fire lancing out from laser cannons. One of his shots impacted a nearby Imperial starfighter on the port pylon that separated the ball cockpit from one of the two solar panels that were a distinctive part of the ship. The fighter spun out of control, headed somewhere "below" the Falcon where it would certainly either impact with a piece of space debris or keep drifting until—or if—a rescue would come.
A small flight of TIE fighters, one leader and two of his wingmen, converged upon the Corellian-made freighter, the leader's laser cannons pumping out dual-linked shots that were absorbed by the shields. Han aimed towards the leader, clearly and readily intent on firing the shot that would end the life of the Imperial pilot. A downward pointing spear of red crashed into the piece of heavy transparisteel viewport of the TIE fighter, instantly killing the pilot and igniting his oxygen reserves. The fighter expanded into a large cloud of green fire and debris that the surviving TIEs flew through.
"That one was mine," Han Solo complained as he targeted another TIE fighter, this time the one on the left.
"Sorry about that," Korto Vos nonchalantly said as he aimed the quad cannon under his control towards the TIE fighter on the right. The half-Kiffar Jedi was almost completely lost in the Force, a key tool to combat that his father had taught him when he was only a small boy. The Force "told" him to adjust his aim by a few degrees to starboard, an action that he took almost instinctively. The Force was hardly ever wrong in situations like this, and his "hunch" was proven as the TIE that he was targeting turned right into his sights. The shot hit the craft in the middle of its solar panel, turning it into a free-floating balls of rapidly cooling slag. A follow up shot hit the side of the cockpit before the ship could spin out of control. And with another explosion, only one TIE fighter remained.
Han took a quick aim at the remaining fighter, and then pulled the triggers. The hint of a small explosion appeared from the ship as the shot hit it. And then, the ship was gone. The stars were replaced by a stream of blue as the Millennium Falcon entered hyperspace. Han slowly removed the headset from his head, a slight amount of sweat flying off it as he set them in their designated place. They had made it past the Imperial ships that had threatened to make spare parts—if even that—out of the Falcon, and there were no major injuries to either the ship or those on board. He climbed the ladder taking him from the gun emplacement, stopping on the main deck of the craft. Next stop: Home One.
Captain Barron sat in his quarters aboard the Victory-class Star Destroyer that he had been commanding for the past year. His assignment to the slightly antiquated vessel had taken place a few months before the treacherous rebels had destroyed their own world of Alderaan, the reward for two years of faithful and exemplary service aboard a Guardian-class light cruiser. His ambition was steady, and his dreams of one day being in the command chair of one of the newer Star Destroyers that the Imperial Navy was fielding.
The mission that had just concluded a few days previously was certain to be his fast track into that very command chair. He had been assigned one of the top TIE interceptor squadrons that the Empire had to offer, and then he had led them to battle against what had been called one of the top rebel squadrons in existence. The results of that battle had been a firm Imperial victory, despite his failure to defeat the rebel capital ship that had housed the enemy squadron.
"Captain Barron, sir," the voice of the on duty communications officer said from the speaker located near the Captain's door. "We have an incoming message addressed specifically to you. It's from Imperial Center and labeled as 'high priority,' sir."
At last! It was the opportunity that he was waiting for. A true evaluation and a just reward for all of his service. "Channel it through to here," he said. An image flickered into the room from an overhead holotransmitter. The figure that appeared before him was not an official member of the Imperial Navy, nor was it the face of Ysanne Isard—the director of Imperial Intelligence and the person who had assigned him to the ambush of Rogue Squadron and the assassination of its leader. No, this figure was clad from head to toe in an imposing suit of black armor. Even the holographic representation of the man—if that's what he was—radiated fear.
"Captain Barron," the figure said, the voice coming out of his helmet in a deep, mechanical way. "I understand that the rebel unit known as Rogue Squadron was a recent target of yours."
"Yes, sir," Captain Barron smugly said. "I must say that the fighter group assigned to me did an excellent job in routing them," he lied, hoping to impress this obvious superior more.
"That is all I need to know," the dark figure said, just before the excruciating pain began to wrack Barron's body.
"So, what should we do about Moresk?" Luke Skywalker asked in the safety of one the many pilot lounges that Home One had to offer. Assembled before him was the entirety of Rogue Squadron, all six of them. Over the past 24 hours he had been thinking of ways to deal with the sleeper agent that had been placed in Rogue Squadron's support personnel by the Empire, but had gotten nowhere. General Cracken had suggested that Luke or another member of Rogue Squadron be the first to confront the Bothan technician; hopefully being confronted by people that he considered friends would be infinitely better than having Alliance Security personnel show up and drag him away.
"I can't believe it was him," Wedge answered from across the table. "After all he's been through. It's not like him to serve the Empire."
"General Cracken said that they did something with his brain," Luke replied. "Turned him into a 'sleeper agent.'"
"At least we've caught him in time," Hobbie added, his perpetually mournful looking face seeming even more down at the moment. "It could have been completely disastrous if we hadn't."
"It was already disastrous," Wes replied, almost breaking character with a serious reply. "We lost a lot of good people out there."
"We can't let that cloud our judgment for this matter," Wedge replied to Wes' comment. "If what General Cracken said is true, then Moresk had no control over his actions."
"I say I talk to him about it," Luke volunteered. "I can use the Force to get his general feelings about the subject as I slowly bring it up. If he gets out of hand, two of you come to my rescue, stun sticks at the ready."
"Great, a Jedi might need my help in rescuing him," Wes added. "I feel safer already…"
"I can't do everything," Luke replied.
"Well, when does this happen?" Tycho asked, breaking his silence.
"Right now," Luke answered before standing up.
"I hate it when he does that," Wes muttered under his breath as the others left. The Tanaab pilot checked his blaster pistol, ensuring that it was set for stun, before following his friends out towards the main hangar.
"I hate it when this happens," Wes cursed as Luke Skywalker curled on the floor, the victim of a display of superBothan strength from the suspected sleeper agent. The discussion had gone well until Moresk had suddenly snapped, shoving the leader of Rogue Squadron into one of the S-foils of a nearby X-wing. To Luke's credit, the Jedi sensed the upcoming attack but had difficulty in fully evading it. After more than likely concussing his superior officer, Moresk then proceeded to run directly away from the group of pilots who quickly gave chase. All of the pilots save for Wes Janson.
The almost always joking pilot was about to reveal another skill that he excelled at.
Wes quickly removed his blaster pistol from the holster around his waist, once again checking it to ensure that the following action wouldn't kill the fleeing Bothan. He had been forced to shoot down a member of his previous squadron years previously when a member of the Tierfon Yellow Aces had a panic attack. There was no way to disable the ship, and it had unfortunately turned into a case of having to kill the one pilot or have the entire squadron compromised.
Satisfied with his blaster, Wes quickly aimed towards the fleeing Bothan. He was in luck, his target was still in range. With a quick motion, he pulled the trigger. A bright blue ring emerged from the barrel of the blaster pistol. It quickly traveled the four meters that separated target from targeter, passing by the gap between Wedge and Hobbie as it continued its journey. The shot finally came to rest on the small of Moresk's back, sending a brief surge of pain throughout the Bothan's body before he passed out.
"Where am I?" Luke asked as Tycho helped him off of the floor. "What happened?"
"It looks like he has a concussion," Tycho said, confirming Wes' quick diagnosis. The confusion that the young Jedi exhibited along with the temporary amnesia were the telltale signs. "We better get both of them to the nearest medbay," he said, motioning towards the stunned Bothan. "We need to make sure he didn't break anything after Wes shot him."
"I'll go contact General Cracken about this," Hobbie added, regretfully volunteering to fully turn a former member of Rogue Squadron in to Alliance Intelligence. He mentally added a wish that whatever the Empire had done to Moresk's mind could be reversed.