The fight may have been almost over, but the area of space around Destiny was alight with laser fire from fighter and starship. Corran was most unimpressed. He was weaving wildly, trying to avoid both and still shoot straight. It was not easy, and his patience was wearing very thin indeed. He let out a strangled cry of rage as fighters began leaving the battlefield to obey Durnick's order to head off the enemy fighters that were escaping. He was about to shout an order into his comm. unit, when his X-wing rocked, Whistler, his R2, screamed, and he felt an explosion behind him. The lights on his radio went dead.
"Whistler, fix it!" he growled, and turned his attention to the R41 that had attacked him. The offending R41 was, in fact, three craft, one of them a T-wing. He was in trouble and he knew it. He pulled up hard, directly into a stream of laser fire from one of Destiny's turrets. He dodged left, right, up and down, and then dived out of the way. Immediately he was pounded by fire from the T-wing. "Whistler, I need that radio now!" he yelled at the droid. The lights came back on, and he punched it. "Face, get over here right now!"
Borath heard the cry, and swung around to see Horn's X-wing being mauled by three other ships. He hated bullies. Maestro whistled at him in warning. "Maestro, we can't just leave him. I know we have problems of our own," he continued, referring to the fighter that was trying to bag him, "but I hate bullies." To the accompaniment of Maestro's paint-blistering squeal, Borath slammed hard on the rudder, swinging the ship around at full speed, dumbfiring a torpedo at his attacker, and, lasers blazing, spun around, down, up and over the flaming rear of his erstwhile opponent and straight at Corran.
A shot from the Destiny's gunners speared one of the captain's attackers, but he kept going anyway, so Corran armed his torpedoes once more, this time looking for a solid lock, the craft getting ever closer. He got one and fired, edging his snubfighter's nose toward the next craft, it was too close for torps by now, so he turned to lasers, dual-linked, and began firing. The R41 broke off, but the T-wing was still there. Borath's lasers pounded desperately on its shields, but they were up at almost full strength. The first R41 had returned, and had moved onto Borath, its new enemy. Borath forced the T-wing off Corran, but found himself in trouble. Two R41s had him in their sights, Destiny was still firing, seemingly at random, and smoke was pouring out of the back of his fighter. This was not one of Borath's better days. Then everything happened at once.
Face Loran's craft rolled lazily into view, looking slightly the worse for wear. His voice came on over the radio as he engaged the enemy fighters.
"Looks like you two have got yourselves into a bit of a mess. That was a bit careless, wasn't it? Whose mother did you insult, Horn?"
"Face..." began Corran, but was interrupted by Teskan, who had just returned to the main battle from the other side of Destiny.
"Gentlemen, we have a problem. The fleeing fighters are leading our forces into a trap. They are not severely damaged. And they have now left Destiny's mass shadow but have not gone into hyperspace."
Corran had forgotten what he was going to say to Face. "If they lead our fighters too far off a backup force could jump in, using Destiny's mass shadow to end up behind our fighters," he reasoned. Sithspawn! he thought to himself. "Whistler, open me a channel to the admiral. Just do it," he finished, cutting off the droid's protest. "Admiral," he began urgently, when the link had been initiated, "our fighters are being led into a trap. The enemy is out of the mass shadow, they haven't left, reinforcements are coming."
"Horn..." began the admiral sternly, but Corran cut him off.
"Sir, with all due respect, this has gone far enough. Call them back!"
"Horn, Destiny has been fitted with a gravity well projector. A small one, but it's here. Now unless you want to face court-martial charges, get your ass over to the other side of Destiny and start following orders!"
A stunned silence. Corran cut the channel.
"Face!" he shouted into the comm., "Face, that fool has a well projector up! Jumping in on top of it is simple! We've been led into an ambush, and the enemy has a mole somewhere in the command structure, maybe even on Destiny!" He was furious. Face wasn't too happy either.
"Sithspawn!" His craft was spinning wildly, firing at the one remaining T-wing. The enemy pilot was so pre-occupied with Face he didn't notice Borath heading up from below, firing as he went. The craft's failing shields were overwhelmed. The hull plates buckled and exploded outward. It was over. Almost. The few remaining fighters were running too, for genuine reasons. Face swung around and followed Corran. Borath and Teskan were close behind.
"Where are we going?" asked Face. "Just asking out of a perverse interest for my continued welfare, because to the untrained eye it might look like we were heading for that trap over there." He paused, a sinking feeling accompanying his next words. "We are aren't we?"
"It's not a trap if you know what's going to happen." Corran's voice had enough of an edge to cut Destiny clean in half. Corran flicked a switch, opening up his comm. on the Republic's all-fighter frequency. "All pilots in pursuit of enemy craft: turn back now, you are heading into a trap. This is Captain Corran Horn, New Republic Starfighter Command, giving you a direct order - I take responsibility for its consequences. The craft you are pursuing are undamaged, and Destiny is projecting a gravity well. Turn around now - it's an ambush."
Corran Horn's voice was as cold as the vacuum itself. He was stretching his engines to their limits, not convinced that the fighters would turn around. Durnick has them wound so tight after firing all Destiny's lasers, no wonder they want blood. His hand tightened on the flightstick. This is no way to run a fighter force.
"Captain Horn?" Borath's voice cut in. "What's our plan, sir?"
"He doesn't have one." Face, unusually serious.
"No I don't. I'll work it out as we go. Durnick doesn't want us to find out anything from the pirates, and is willing to sacrifice his men to do it. He's covering his own back or the Republic's. Either way this is trouble. And my friends call me Corran."
The four X-wings were gaining on the fleeing craft and their pursuers. Borath's mouth was dry. And then he realised. Four X-wings. Where was Kaz?
It was at that point that the universe flared a brilliant white.
Face's vision cleared - he wished it hadn't. In front of him was an old dreadnought-class warship (modified by the looks of it) and a couple of squadrons of uglies. There were in the process of demolishing Destiny's fighter force. With ease. A look at his status displays told him why. His weapons were down, as were his shields.
"Vape, get those weapons back right now!" he shouted. "Corran!"
"Face, I am now very, very angry." Corran sounded as though he was ready to take the enemy apart with his bare hands. His voice was shaking with pure rage. Face shivered. Corran unnerved him at times like this. There was no need for further discussion. They could both see that none of the Republic fighters had weapons or shields. It was four against...well, against a lot. But it didn't matter.
The four X-wings were about to arrive at the battle zone. Borath was already searching for Holloway among the exploding Republic fighters. Burning B-wings and X-wings were everywhere, caught off-guard and with no shields by the ambushers. The screams and cries of surprised pilots filled the airwaves, desperate requests for help echoed across space. The remaining craft that had not been caught in the first wave had weapons back, but were only able to recharge their shields very slowly. They had a chance of surviving for at least a minute, but past that, under the vicious onslaught from the pirates, their future was as bright as the inside of a black hole.
"Maestro, where is she? And where are my shields and weapons? Well I want to know now!" His weapons ready light returned. "That's better. Shields?" Maestro whistled that he hadn't returned the weapons to ready status, it had just happened. Borath didn't bother responding - the dreadnought and a bunch of X-TIEs were in front of him. Uglies, he thought with disgust.
The fighters in front of him were an unholy amalgamation of X-wing s-foils and a TIE cockpit. They had shields and torpedoes, as well as the wing-mounted laser cannons, and the wings could rotate around the ball cockpit. Of all the uglies, this was the most dangerous variety - TIE manoeuvrability with X-wing defenses and weaponry. Lethal. He didn't care. With an enraged cry we dove in, firing as he went. The sheer ferocity of his attack (and a relatively lucky shot) caused the first casuality. It exploded, and its wingmate went spinning away wildly, unprepared for the new attack. Borath followed on that with a torpedo, destroying it. He only had one torpedo left, had to be sure of a good shot for that one. He wasn't likely to be able to get into Destiny for restocking. As if mocking him, the dreadnought opened up on Destiny who, it seemed, had been hit nearly as badly as the fighters.
Horn, Loran and Teskan had all had similar success with the unprepared uglies who, now aware of their new opponents, wheeled around and included them in their assault. The four Republic pilots realised how short-sighted they had been - with only slowly recharging shields, they were very vulnerable.
"Gentlemen, we need to take out that dreadnought. My sensors detect that there are a further four squadrons of uglies inside, and it poses a serious danger to Destiny," Teskan spoke up.
"Horn here. We need to secure our pilots' safety first."
"Corran, he's right. If we combine our remaining torpedoes' firepower we might be able to take it down." That was Face.
"We need to destroy these uglies or we won't have any pilots left!" cried Corran. That gave Borath an idea.
"Why not do both?"
A flaming B-wing tumbled past him, followed by a Die-wing, a combination Y-wing and TIE fighter, named for its astonishing combination of the worst aspects of both craft. Borath stamped on the rudder pedal and screamed his ship around a half circle. The Die-wing crumpled under his attack and exploded. He grinned, relieved that the B-wing was safe. A piece of debris from the dead ugly sliced through the B-wing's unprotected and weakened engine housing, and the burning ship exploded. Borath let out a pained cry. He did not wait any longer for a response to his unexplained plan. He opened up his comm. unit to all frequencies, knowing that the uglies would pick it up as well.
"Republic fighters, this is Captain Corran Horn. Form up on me, we're going after the dreadnought, prep your remaining torpedoes."
Without waiting for Corran's inevitable response, he wheeled around once more and headed for the dreadnought. The other three pilots got the idea, and formed an escort for the bedraggled Republic fighters. They had better shield status than the ambushed fighters, and with the uglies attention on 'Corran Horn', they had more leeway to act. Pirates were not as well-disciplined as military pilots, and had a tendency to go for more prominent targets with the intention of collecting kudos later.
Borath switched back to the Republic frequency. "We're going for the hangar bay," he began in a reasonable impersonation of Horn. "Take as many uglies as you can on the way, but stay with the group. And be aware of where your allies are at all times. No collisions."
A most unusual set of orders, and the group of Republic fighters were quite a sight. Dancing around each other, they fired on any uglies that happened to cross their path. Everything seemed to be going well. They were a couple of klicks out from the dreadnought now. From the corner of his eye, Borath saw and explosion. Destiny! He looked again, but it was intact. Shields and hull are weakening though. We don't have much time.
Borath opened his mouth to give more orders when an X-TIE swooped in on the X-wing next to him, firing torpedoes. The X-wing exploded, knocking Borath into the path of another X-TIE. The missile lock light began flashing. Borath twisted wildly trying to break it, looping up and around. A B-wing flew across his path, followed by Die-wing. He swerved left and then an X-wing gunned after the Die-wing straight across his new course. He yelled and yanked the stick hard right. His X-wing's acceleration compensators squealed, but the lock light kept flashing. The light went solid and Maestro screamed. There was an explosion. It took a second for him to realise that his X-wing was still intact, and that, since the warning light had vanished, it must have been his attacker that exploded.
"You're clear 'Captain'." It was Corran's voice.
"Thank you, Flight Officer Bordan," Borath replied, grinning. The grin left his face as the dreadnought loomed closer, only a klick away, almost filling his viewport. He slowed. He could see the fighter hangar, could even see pilots and techs running around. The uglies were about to launch and destroy them all.
"All craft, listen up. Lock all your torpedoes onto the signal my R2 is about to feed you. Do it fast, do it now." He clicked the comm. off. "Maestro, rig a torpedo to emit a homing signal. Transmit it to all the other ships. At half a klick launch a normal torp. At .2 launch the modified one at the hangar bay. Do that now." A second later Maestro whistled.
"All pilots," Borath spoke again, "launch your torps on my mark." Maestro launched the first torpedo. The dreadnought's aft laser cannons swivelled to the new dangers, first to the torpedo, then on the incoming craft. The Republic craft began weaving, another exploded, "Mark!" shouted Borath. His torpedo lanced out toward the starship, and pulled up sharply to avoid fielding one of the pursuing torps.
The first torpedo, Borath's, was shot out after a half second, but none of the others had locked on to the dreadnought itself, the gunners had nothing to aim by. They fired randomly as the Republic ships scattered, tried to launch more fighters, but too late. Maestro had registered 23 torpedo launches. The first couple exploded on the shield perimeter, but the others blasted through. They exploded in the dreadnought's fighter bay.
Fire burst from the hangar in a huge gout. A few X-TIEs desperately trying to escape the hangar were blasted forward on the tip of the flame, which lengthened as the warheads in the fighters still on the bay caught fire and exploded. The B-wings bringing up the rear of the Republic group were straining in an attempt to stay ahead of the explosion, one was engulfed, but blasted through, engines ablaze. The dreadnought was coming apart at the seams, explosions reverberating through the old starship. Destiny was limping away when it blew apart. The flare died away, leaving only debris.
Borath whooped loudly into the comm., joined by half a dozen other pilots. "YESss!" There were still enemy craft around, R41s and uglies, but his heart was soaring about ten metres above his X-wing. Pure elation constricted his throat, and his whoop died on its way out of his mouth. Died. Like all those pilots. Pilots. Kaz! He barely heard Corran's words.
"Good job. Now I want the last few enemies disabled. Now. No more fighters are to be destroyed, disable them only. Any further killing, and the perpetrator will report to General Antilles." He did not expect any argument. He didn't get any. The pirates' plan had failed, they were disillusioned, easy targets. The X-wings shot down their shields, and the B-wings ion-cannoned them into submission. The pirates were dead in space.
The surviving Republic fighters hobbled back to the Destiny's own hangar bay. It was in a shambles, but there was plenty of room for everyone. Borath popped the canopy on his X-wing and leaped from the top, ignoring the ladder that had been rolled up to his ship.
"KAZ! Katherine Holloway!" he shouted, running from ship to ship, looking for her. He couldn't see her. No! Please no, please no, please not after all that, not like this, "KAZ!"
"Borath?" A voice from the other side of the hangar. He turned, and dashed, full tilt toward his friend's battered X-wing. She jumped, catlike, from her cockpit, and he caught her clumsily. They hugged each other hard, tears of relief falling from their eyes. Teskan had heard them calling and arrived at a run. The three pilots held on to each other.
"I am relieved." Teskan's voice was husky and strained. Borath had never heard him this emotional. Kaz cried harder.
"Espar..." she choked up. "He's dead," she forced out. "He was one of the first to go. He..." she broke down, and the three friends stood there in the fighter bay mourning their dead.
Borath surveyed the scene. Similar incidents were occurring all over the place. The almost-empty place, Borath noted. Almost empty, he thought bitterly, because we lost so many pilots. The elation of victory had died.
Only the emptiness of the hangar bay was left.