Chapter 1

Borleias Complex

Jacen Solo and Luke Skywalker stared at the Dark Jedi's body. He had killed himself, taking off his own head. The lightsaber used lay nearby. "He was a clone," said Jacen. "And not one like Anakin or Grandfather, either. He was programmed as he created. Do you think he was one of the Force troopers that the Wraiths told us about?"

"Definitely," answered Luke. "Can you do me a favor?" When Jacen nodded, he continued. "Call General Cracken for me."



***



Galactic Alliance Intelligence Headquarters, Mon Calamari

General Aerin Cracken did not like getting calls this late at night, or rather, early in the morning. "This had better be good, Master Solo."

"It is," Jacen replied. "Thrawn's dead."

"How?"

"Jumped out the window and fell twenty stories. He was forced out by an assassin."

"I see. Thanks for letting me know, even if I was trying to get some sleep."

"That's not all, General. The asssassin was a Dark Jedi. Uncle Luke thinks the Wraiths would be the best people to trace the cloned Jedi to where Garinoska's hiding."

"I'll see, Solo. We've got other things lined up for the Wraiths right now."

"General, I know you have other squadrons similar to the Wraiths. We need the originals on this mission."

"I told you Solo, I'll see."

The comm disconnected and Cracken walked into his kitchen, preparing a cup of caf. "Well, it's too late now to go back to bed," he sighed as he took a sip of the caf and headed into his office to transcribe the Wraiths' new orders.



***



Borleias Complex

The Wraiths, excepting Face, sat in the pilot's lounge in the Biotics facility, all of them sitting around a table with a holo-proj. They had been teaching new recruits the Intelligence ways, and all of them welcomed the break.

"And in related news," said Wolam Tser's hologram, "a CSA spy ring was discovered by a group of civilians on Mon Calamari-"

Lavaroo snorted. "They don't give us enough credit. Civilians. That's practically an insult.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Face and a man dressed all in black. He was older, maybe a year or two younger than Luke Skywalker, but definitely older than Face. His hair and beard were still a dark brown, with only the slightest traces of gray. What was most interesting was the lightsaber hanging at his side. He seemed vaguely familiar to Anakin, but he couldn't place the stranger.

"Wraiths," said Face, "I'd like to introduce you to our newest recruit, Kyle Katarn, ex-mercenary, and Jedi Master."

That was where Anakin recognized him from. He had stopped by the old Academy every once in a while. "Master Katarn, it's good to see you again," Anakin said as he stood up and extended his hand.

"Nice to see you too, Solo. I was sorry to hear about your death, during the war."

"Thanks." Anakin had gotten that a lot lately.

"I hate to break up the party, but we've got a mission. No more training rookies for a while. Come with me." Face looked at Lavaroo and Kell, who were both holding large mugs of lomin-ale, and looking rather glum at the thought of leaving them. "Fine, bring them along," said Face.

They walked to the theater they had been teaching at, Face pressed a few buttons on the holo-proj and a still holo of the dead Dark Jedi popped up. "I know, it's not pretty. Cracken wants us to put a stop to the production of Force-sensitive clones.

"Since we're likely to be fighting folks with lightsabers, our standard body armor is being coated with a layer of cortosis, which is resistant to lightsabers. We'll get more information once we're aboard the Crawler. Say your goodbyes, people, we ship out at 0600 tomorrow morning."



***



"You're leaving?" asked Tahiri, when he walked into her quarters an hour later.

"Tahiri, I'm not on leave. I've got responsibilities to the Wraiths."

"I thought you were thinking about leaving the squadron," she said, sounding rather disappointed.

"I'm thinking about it. But that's not likely anytime soon. I'm a freak of nature. I'm not exactly human, and I think being a commando is the best thing for me right now."

"We'll talk about this when you get back. By the way, when are you telling everyone we're getting married?"

"When I get back, I promise," said Anakin. He kissed her and said, "I've got to go. More packing to do. See you soon, hopefully."

He turned around and walked away, leaving Tahiri with a more than a few unanswered questions.



***



For all acounts, the Night Crawler was a great ship to be based on. There was a small crew, so most of the crew quarters had been 'expanded' and most of the Wraiths' quarters held all sorts of strange trinkets and trophies from worlds they had visited. Anakin had a room that had once been two smaller rooms, and he kept it much cleaner than most of the Wraiths usually did.

"Hey Anakin!" called Lavaroo from the door. "Face found a few bottles of pre-invasion brandy! Everyone's down in the main lounge, and you ought to hurry up if you want some."

Anakin grinned. "I'm in." He followed Lavaroo down to the lounge, where Face was standing on the table, holding a bottle of brandy in either hand.

"Alright. Now that everyone's here, I'm going to brief you on our mission."

"So no brandy?" asked Kell, sounding extremely disappointed.

"Later. First, Katarn, welcome to the squadron, we're glad to have you, and you and Anakin are going to be teaching classes on how to deal with Jedi."

All of the Wraiths groaned. "More teaching?" asked Anakin with a groan.

"Afraid so. There's also a darker side to our mission. If the opportunity arises, we are to assassinate Vakir Garinoska."

All of the Wraiths grimaced. "I really don't like assassinations," said Kell.

The only one that didn't seem affected by the news was Grabakhar, but he had been bred to be an assassin, bodyguard, and commando.

"Everyone, get some rack time, it's going to be a long week. First insertion zone is Bonadon, the CSA's capitol."

***



Mon Calamari, Capitol of the Galactic Republic



Their lightsabers crackled and sparked as Requiem pressed his right blade against Jaina Solo's moved his second lightsaber towards Jaina's throat, she caught it with her blade, but only barely. "Good," came Anakin Skywalker's voice. "Excellent, Requiem, but you must try not to get into any saber locks. Remember, she has two hands on her saber and can overpower you without exerting a lot of strength. You, on the other hand, will wear out quickly, so be fast. Speed is your ally. Make small cuts if you can't get any big ones. Dismemberment isn't always necessary. A fast, shallow stab into the stomach will get any opponent on the ground fast. I saw it happen to my old master, Obi-wan Kenobi."

"Got it, Anakin. This dual-saber style is much more advantageous than just one lightsaber."

"Jaina!" called a male voice from the other end of the beach. Jag Fel jogged up. "New's we're shipping out on the Hope of the Alliance in six hours, on a prolonged campaign against the CSA. Remember how they had Admiral Sovv commanding her?"

"Yeah. I heard he was retiring though."

"Yup. Guess who the brass is replacing him with."

"Who?"

"Uncle Wedge. He's being promoted to Admiral, and is getting command of the 1st Fleet."

"Which is pretty much just the Hope, isn't it?"

"Pretty much, there's a pair of Corvettes and a Nebulon-B Frigate, but that's it."

"Well, Grandfather, Requiem, you heard Jag, let's go!"



***



Mon Calamari Orbit, Eclipse-Class Star Destroyer Hope of the Alliance



Wedge Antilles sank back into his chair, exhausted. He had just been given command of the largest fleet (in terms of firepower) in the entire navy. He was just starting to relax after touring the ship, which had taken two whole hours, when his door slid open, and three pilots strode in.

"Admiral, sir!" said Janson, looking serious for a moment before breaking out in laughter. "Who would've thought? Wedge 'I want to fly fighters till I'm too old to move' Antilles is an Admiral, in command of the largest ship in the navy."

Wedge shrugged. "I'm getting old. Which means, so are all of you. First, you're all being assigned to the Hope indefinitely. Tycho, you're my XO. Janson and Hobbie, you'll be in command of the ship's hanger. Both of you are being promoted to Lieutenant Colonel." Wes grinned. "I could use the raise in pay," said Hobbie, his face never changing from its normal dour expressions.

"Well, all of you better get moved into your new offices, the locations of which are on these datacards. Good luck finding them." Wedge handed datacards to the three pilots and they left.

He leaned back into his chair and opened his holo-mail. A message from Myri popped up. "Hi Daddy. Mom says you just got a promotion, so congratulations. I also figured now would be a good time to tell you about the sixty-seven in Galactic History. Here," said the hologram, "Syal wants to talk to you."

Wedge's other daughter stepped into the frame. "Congratulations Daddy! I've also got something to tell you." The Syal paused dramatically and said, "I've got a boyfriend. He's really cute. He's a Jedi trainee that's in my history class. I'm doing really good in that class by the way. Bye."

The holo winked out of existence and Wedge groaned. He'd have to ask Han what he had done when Jaina brought home boys. And he'd have to have a discussion with Myri on how in the Sith she could be failing Galactic history when her father was Wedge Antilles, and her uncle was Baron Soontir Fel, the greatest Imperial pilot of his day. Oh, the joys of parenthood.