The mottled white light of hyperspace screamed past the Valor's hangar bay door, and Deek waited eagerly for the reversion to realspace. He tightened his gloves once again, and grasped the X-wing's control stick with anticipation. He glanced to either side of his cockpit, looking at the eleven other fighters in his midst. Admiral Ackbar had eventually made the pilots aboard his flagship agree to draw lots to see who among Home One's fighter compliment would accompany the Valor through the wormhole. Deek had originally not been one of the few with a successful draw, and Zyx had volunteered to give up his spot for him, but a B-wing pilot from Grey Squadron insisted on trading his spot for Deek. Ackbar had come down to see the pilots off before they departed Home One, and told them that he would have been more than willing to allow the entire wing through were it not for the repeated protests of Councilor Fey'la wearing Mon Mothma down to the point of making the Admiral force this concession onto the pilots.
All told, five X-wings, three A-wings, two B-wings and two Y-wings had been chosen to comprise what they had decided to call Pathfinder Squadron. And they had elected Deek as their squadron leader. He had been given a provisional Commander's commission for the assignment, and would also serve as Valor's acting First Officer when not flying his X-wing. Each and every one of the pilots in Pathfinder Squadron would also be pulling additional duties while not on flight missions to compensate for the low crew count they had been assigned. Techs from each squadron aboard Home One had also drawn lots to accompany their pilots to maintain their fighters, and those techs would fill the squadron's shipboard jobs while the pilots were on-mission and would maintain the fighters when they weren't needed. While no one ever exactly looked forward to double or even triple duty, no one hesitated to put their boots on the line when offered the chance to stay behind.
The real surprise however, was the boxy assault shuttle at the back of the hangar. Less than an hour before they were scheduled to depart, a commando team from Home One had arrived in the shuttle while the Valor was being given it's final checks for departure. The dozen men and women had informed the ship's command that they had all volunteered to go along as a security detail and ground support, should the crew require it. The other thing they had said was that their involvement was strictly "off-record," meaning Admiral Ackbar and the crew of the Valor as the only ones with knowledge of their inclusion in the cruiser's crew compliment. The shuttle carried two speeder bikes and all the weapons and ammo the commandos would need, and sported a pair of twin laser cannons as well as a concussion missile launcher. Deek was thankful to have the extra staffing and firepower on board, and desperately hoped that their services would not be needed.
Their first experience on the other side of the wormhole nearly dashed those hopes. Upon arriving in this new, unfamiliar galaxy, they had been greeted by a scout ship from a group calling themselves "Klingons." While initially met with hostility, and a brief but mostly harmless exchange of turbolaser and energy weapon fire, another ship entered the system, referring to themselves as a representative of the United Federation of Planets. Once all three ships had agreed not to fire on one another, subsequent communications revealed that a civilian merchant ship had been in the area several hours prior, and had reported several unidentified vessels emerging and opening fire on another Federation vessel that had been tentatively identified as the USS Orion. Deek and Xerin, now in command of the Valor, quickly surmised that the unknown ships were four Imperial capital ships... and one X-wing starfighter.
Deek had barely been able to contain his excitement as he inquired as to where the foreign ships had gone. The Captain of the Federation vessel said he did not know about the lone one-man ship, but the Orion fled from the four larger ships, and was currently the first vessel on-scene at the remains of a "Starbase 138." After convincing the Federation Captain to provide them with astronavigational data, and sufficient translation software, they had leapt into hyperspace to assist at Starbase 138. The Captain of their new Federation ally ship, the USS Hamill, had agreed to rendezvous with the Valor at the Starbase after a brief sweep of the surrounding area, but the Klingon Captain merely muttered something that sounded a lot like a curse to Deek, and left the area. Deek figured he would not see many more Klingons in his time in this galaxy.
The chrono scrolled numbers off rapidly on his main display, and he knew it would not be long before they arrived at the Starbase. He tightened the chin strap of his scuffed and carbon-scored flight helmet and flicked the orange visor down into place before his eyes. He began setting up his comm frequencies that he anticipated using during their mission. One for him and his wingman, a second for One Flight, a tactical frequency shared by the entire squadron, and one that was linked with Valor's bridge. He glanced at the chrono again, but the number began decreasing more rapidly than it should have, indicating a premature reversion to realspace. The brilliant white mottling of hyperspace suddenly slowed, and the solid white wall became millions of rods of light, that further dissipated into millions of pinpricks in the blackness of space. Deek knew immediately that meant the Imperial Interdictor cruiser that had been in Admiral Karath's fleet was on-mission, and running her gravity well projectors.
Momentum carried the Valor forward through the battlefield, and to anyone who didn't know better, their actions seemed entirely intentional, as the cruiser dropped out of hyperspace just in time to move in front of and block an onslaught of turbolaser fire intended to hit a grey starship with an oval-shaped upper section and two engines attached to a lower frame that sat in space directly off their starboard side. Deek watched as the shields on the Valor flared, but held. He watched on the monitor as a view of the ship they had unintentionally saved began to rotate as if to come about by the bow of the Valor.
"Pathfinder Lead, this is Xerin!" the Mon Calamari's voice crackled in his ear. "Cleared for launch! Go, go, go! Take the Star Crusher! Her grav projectors look damaged on the starboard side! If you can disable the portside generators, we can all get out of here!"
"Copy that, Valor. What about the ship behind us?" Deek asked as he lifted his X-wing off the deck and accelerated out the hangar door.
"I believe that would be the Orion, the ship our friends aboard the Hamill mentioned. I'm having a message sent to them, informing them of the loss of their Starbase, and to stay clear of the area. We're going to save Orion and run."
Smart. These Fed ships don't seem to be built for combat, they'd get ripped to shreds if Karath can trap them here. "Got it, Zee. We're en route to Star Crusher now!" Deek flicked his comlink over to the squadron's shared frequency. "Alright Pathfinder, you heard the Captain. Lock S-foils in attack position! Ten through Twelve, get ahead of us and intercept any fighters that Hammer or the two Vics send out!" He watched as the three A-wings signaled acknowledgement by shooting out in front of the formation, heading for the several grey dots of TIE fighters in the distance.
"Five, fly with the bomber group, you'll launch torps with them! One Flight, on me, let's form up and screen the bombers. We're gonna get 'em in close, and take out Star Crusher's shields and grav projectors!" His fellow X-wing pilots joined him in surrounding the two Y-wing bombers, the fifth X-wing, and the two B-wing fighter/bombers in a protective diamond. The slower B-wings and Y-wings carried an impressive payload of ordnance, ranging from proton bombs and torpedos, to concussion missiles and ion cannons, but they could not stand up to Imperial TIEs in a straight dogfight. The X-wings were better suited to take on any fighter resistance, and the nimble A-wings would be sure to put a sizable dent in any TIEs the Imperials were sending out.
"Two sees multiple hostiles inbound. Three marks at two-ten! Engaging!" Zyx's sharp voice clicked in the comm, and his ship broke up and out from the formation to cut off the unseen TIEs that had most likely launched from the Interdictor cruiser, instead of the Star Destroyers.
"Copy, Two. Hang back for a moment, I'll take your wing! Three, Four, stay with the pigs, we'll be right back." Deek slipped to port, leaving the last two X-wings with the "pigs," referring to the lumbering speed of the bombers. Back in training, one of the exercises he had gone through with Blue Squadron was flying cover for a group of Y-wings as they ran a simulated bombing run in a trench on Folor Base. Urban legend said that an A-wing pilot had offhandedly described Y-wings as "slow, wallowing pigs," unaware that the bomber wing commander was in earshot. The name ended up sticking, with the Y-wing pilots bearing the stigma as a badge of honor, and the tradition of the "Pig Trough" run was born.
"As ordered, Lead." Zyx waited for Deek to get into position on his wing, and he slipped in on Zyx's starboard side, about fifteen meters behind. "Take 'em, Two. I'll pick up the scraps." He said.
"Complying." Zyx cut his X-wing into a snap roll to port, sweeping in on the three TIE Interceptors from below. Deek was able to easily keep up with the Gand's maneuver, and waited to see which enemy fighters survived the first pass. Zyx triggered a quad burst of laser fire that sheared off the lead TIE's port solar panel where it connected to the cockpit, sending the fighter careening off into space, where it connected with a piece of starship debris and exploded in a brilliant orange and blue fireball. The Gand fired at the second and third fighters as he passed between them, but his shots didn't connect. TIE Interceptors, referred to as "squints" in pilot slang, were far superior to X-wings in speed and maneuverability, but the one critical weakness most TIE models shared was the lack of shields. The first squint pilot had been taken out before he had a chance to manuever, but his comrades were now aware of Zyx and Deek, and they managed to avoid the Gand's follow-up shots.
"Qwiring missed the last two, Lead," Zyx said, his disappointment cutting through the slight distortion their tactical frequency imparted onto any messages. The Gand was a fine pilot, at least as far as flying was concerned. He had been paired with Deek after the pilot who had replaced Corvin was killed, and had proven himself several times over to be the only one in the squadron capable of keeping up with Deek's own natural abilities at the controls. Unfortunately for Zyx, what he had in talent for flying, he lacked severely in dogfighting. Zyx had joined the squadron fresh out of selection, and in those two years they had flown together, he still had yet to make ace, a title earned by virtue of five kills in ship-to-ship combat. He was adept in his positioning and defensive maneuvering, having saved Deek's life more than once by interposing his shield bubble between his wingman and a pursuing TIE, Zyx seemed reluctant to take the offensive in air and space combat. Conversely, Zyx had excelled in close air support, able to provide cover to ground troops and vehicles with low-altitude strafing runs. He had a knack for delivering pinpoint precision strikes on fortified Imperial positions with little to no collateral damage to friendlies, and had once even killed one of the Empire's formidable AT-AT walkers by himself. But ground targets didn't count toward his status as an ace, and even with the one kill he had just gotten- his first in months- he was still short of the mark by one. Deek could feel the shame in his wingman's voice, but he had recently been ordering Zyx to take lead on engagements whenever possible, to build the Gand's confidence, much like Corvin had done for him when they first became wingmates. His efforts today had been partially successful, but he needed to keep Zyx's morale high.
"No worries, Two. I've got cleanup!" Deek impaled the second squint on his crosshairs, and once he got a clear tone, he squeezed the trigger. Two dual bursts of scarlet energy struck the Interceptor dead center, imploding the ball canopy and detonating the ion engines. He didn't have time to acquire the third TIE, so as he brought his X-wing around, he switched his weapons controls over to proton torpedos. The squint banked hard to starboard as Deek came around, but the maneuver was all for nothing. A solid lock tone sounded in his ears, and he depressed the fire control. A single torpedo shot out from the nose of his X-wing, barreling down on the TIE too fast for the unshielded fighter to do anything in the way of evasion. The missile tore through the back of the fighter, incinerating the cockpit, pilot and all, and exploded a meter after it pierced the front viewport, engulfing the TIE in a deep azure and orange fireball.
"Okay, Two. Back to the rest of the squadron!" Deek ordered, pulling his X-wing back around to rejoin the bomber screen, when the comm crackled in his ear. Xerin's warbling voice filled his ear.
"Pathfinder Lead, this is Valor. The Orion has made contact with us. You're going to want to hear this." Xerin's voice, even through the mild scrambling and compression of the comm channel, could not hide the pleasure in the Mon Calamari's voice. "Patching you in, now." Xerin continued. Seconds later, a familiar voice entered the conversation.
Hey, buddy. You're late to the party."
/
"Corvin!" Deek's elated voice filled the bridge speakers. "I can't believe it, you're alive!"
"Gonna take more than a few Imp warships to stop me and my new friends, here." Corvin responded, a wave of relief washing over him. "Get us outta here, and we can be back on Alderaan by dinner!" he said.
Deek seemed to audibly hesitate before speaking again. "We... can talk about that later. Right now, we have an Interdictor to disable. You flying? I got room on my wing."
"Wish I could, pal. My fighter's dry. You wouldn't happen to have any techs on that tub, would ya?"
"Copy that, we got you covered. Let's focus on getting you folks outta here, first! We're engaging the Star Crusher now, once the grav gens drop, punch it outta here! Zee- sorry, Captain Xerin, do we have rendezvous coordinates?"
"Indeed, we do," the Mon Cal's voice rejoined the comm call. "They are being forwarded to Lt. Corvin's astromech over a secure frequency."
"Good luck, Deek. See ya when you've crippled that cruiser. Corvin out." Captain Garrett looked up from his treatment as the young pilot stepped away from view. Doctor Braun had come up personally to attend to his injuries when he refused to leave the bridge to report to Sick Bay, and she was dutifully running a dermal regenerator over the gash across his chest.
"Valor, this is the Captain of the Orion. We can't go toe-to-toe with those ships, but I'm not just going to sit by and let you all take the brunt of this attack. How can we help?" he asked, the last question through clenched teeth as a particularly nasty section of the wound was being attended to.
"If you can risk getting in closer, we're going to close the gap between us and the Star Crusher, to give the fighters a bit more covering fire and an easier escape once we're ready to flee." Xerin said. "Any assistance you can render would be most appreciated."
"Acknowledged, Valor. And tell your pilots our shuttle bays are open, if it's easier for any of them to reach on the way out."
"Copy, Orion. Over and out."
Garrett leaned back from the regenerator, and ordered Miles to take them in and match speed with the Alliance ship. Varik set up phaser fire on several different vectors, one such barrage driving back a small swarm of the little TIE fighters that threatened to cut off the nine starfighters from a safe fallback vector, destroying three in the process. He watched as five of the fighters, in the middle of a protective diamond made by the other four, came into range and unleashed a withering volley of various torpedos and blue energy fire. The Star Crusher's shield bubble wavered, flickered twice, then faltered. The blue-tinted energy field around the ship faded to a deep red as it collapsed a section off the port bow, and the fighters wasted no time diving in through the gap. A second barrage of dual-linked warheads launched from the Y-wings and the B-wings, and the five X-wings also fired a supplemental volley of torpedos, aimed at the command tower at the rear of the vessel. The nine ships broke to starboard in unison, away from the destruction they had just unleashed. The three A-wings streaked up from below, and cut a clear exit vector through the formation of TIEs, as the bomber group's torpedoes slammed into the Interdictor's topside gravity well projectors, while the volley from the X-wings bored into the command tower. The tower's forward face erupted in flames, and a blaze of orange rocketing out the back of the structure indicated some of the missiles had punched out the back of the main bridge. The gravity well projectors shattered into debris, vomiting fast-dying fires into the vacuum of space.
The Star Crusher listed to her portside, its main bridge destroyed, secondary explosions causing massive damage to the nearby hull and subsystems, and the jets of flames told Captain Garrett that the cruiser was venting atmosphere. The squadron of allied fighters broke and disengaged from the Star Crusher in the midst of her death throes, and began retreating back towards the Valor and Orion. The quick, nimble A-wings reached first, opting for the sanctuary Orion offered, while the bombers entered the Valor's hangar. The X-wings remained in space to screen any remaining enemies on their way out, and the miniature fleet immediately began racing out into a clear path to run into warp and hyperspace. They didn't need to go far, as the Star Crusher no longer maintained a stable mass shadow, and once navigation had the coordinates locked in, Orion leapt into warp, followed closely by Valor fleeing into the safety of hyperspace.
/
"Three dead. Twenty-eight wounded. How could I have been so stupid?" Captain Garrett held the datapad in left hand, scrolling through the preliminary casualty reports as Orion came out of warp at the rendezvous coordinates. "Twelve men did all that damage to us. Men that should never have been allowed to set foot on this ship in the first place." His right hand rubbed at the bridge of his nose, shame flooding his mind, which made Doctor Braun flinch slightly as she picked up on his emotions.
"Captain, there was no way to predict what could have happened," Zalya said, finishing up her work with the dermal regenerator, and she swapped the device for a hypospray loaded with a strong local anesthetic. In addition to the laceration across his chest, the Captain had re-aggravated an old knee injury, and had dislocated his right ring finger.
"We could have run a scan for weapons, or tried to re-establish comms. Hell, we have an empath on board!" Garrett motioned to her. "I could have asked you to come up to the bridge and read their damn thoughts!" He threw the PADD across the bridge towards his ready room door. "These are mistakes I thought I was long past making. It's unacceptable."
"Sir, you saved our lives up here." Miles stood at his station, and turned to face the rest of the senior staff. "We all owe you a huge debt," he opened his arms to include Corvin and Varik. "All three of you. Everyone on board knows you'll get us through this."
"I sincerely hope you're right, Lieutenant. I really do." Garrett sighed, both as an attempt to reset his emotional state, and in relief as the painkiller administered by Doctor Braun immediately dulled the pain radiating from his bad knee. "Something tells me though, that my days of crawling through Jefferies Tubes are over after today." He massaged the knee for a second or two before standing up. On the main display before him, the Rebel cruiser Valor dropped out of hyperspace in front of them, followed closely by several of the X-wing fighters it had brought along with it. The snubfighters soared over Orion's bridge, and dipped their S-foils in a salute as they passed overhead. The view screen remained on the visage of space outside, but the voice of the other ship's Captain crackled to life in the bridge speakers.
"Valor to Orion, Captain Xerin speaking."
"Orion here. This is Captain Tyson Garrett. Thanks for the save."
"Delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Captain Garrett. And it was our pleasure, though not entirely our intention to make such a dramatic entrance." A wheezing chuckle filled the comm channel. "Now that we're not in any immediate danger, we can offer our full assistance in any repairs, and I know our missing pilot on your ship would probably welcome a chance to reunite with his friends. And I should very much like to meet you and your staff as well."
"We... have a few things to attend to, regarding some casualties we've taken," Garrett looked at the datapad on the floor by his ready room. "If you feel so inclined, you are more than welcome to come aboard to pay respects. After which point, we'd be glad to welcome you properly to our corner of the universe."
"Of course, I understand." Xerin was quiet for a moment or two, and after the silence, the Valor began to rotate on the view screen, exposing its hangar bay door to the Orion. "We'd be honored and humbled to join you in mourning for fallen comrades. We only have one shuttle at our disposal, so my staff and I may have to come over in waves."
Captain Garrett smiled. "I think we can help with that. If you allow us to scan your ship, we can transport you aboard in a matter of seconds whenever you're ready." Xerin was silent for a moment, then reluctantly agreed. The channel cut off in a quick hiss of static. Once the bridge was put back together, the crew separated to make their various preparations for a memorial service. Captain Garrett had realized shortly after the communique with Valor that he had been standing shirtless on the bridge for some time. After a quick remark that his days of a "Kirk-like physique" were long behind him, he retreated into the privacy of his ready room to procure a new tunic. Once his modesty had been restored, he returned to his quarters to clean himself up as best he could, exchanging the spare tunic from the ready room for his dress uniform.
As he made his way down to the shuttle bays to both greet the visiting pilots who had sheltered there before the escape from the Imperials, and to oversee preparation of the caskets for the slain members of his crew, his mood once again sobered. Crews had already begun working in the corridor, cleaning the scorched bulkheads, removing blaster and phaser burns from the walls, and occasionally he would see a team from Sick Bay loading one of the dead stormtroopers onto a hoversled for disposal. He had also received word that in addition to the captured Imperial Commando, two more of the boarding party had been taken alive, and it was ultimately decided that they would be turned over to the Valor and her crew, to be taken back to their own galaxy if and when she would eventually depart for home.
On the way down, he received the message from Captain Xerin that his staff were ready to come aboard, so he had elected to take a quick detour and alerted Transporter Room One to beam them aboard. He arrived in the transporter room just before the newcomers re-phased into existence on the pads in front of him. The six strangers looked around in awe at what had just transpired, several of them patting themselves down to see if they were "all there."
"The first time's a doozy, isn't it?" he said with a warm smile. "Captain Xerin, I presume?" He asked as the amphibious-looking alien at the head of the formation took a few carefully measured steps down the transporter stairs. As he regained his equilibrium, he opened his giant mouth in what Garrett assumed was his species' interpretation of a human smile, and extended a webbed hand towards the Captain. "Indeed I am, Captain Garrett. Again, delighted to meet you. I only wish it were under better circumstances." The alien bowed his domed head, and rotated his eyes up on their short stalk-like protrusions at either side to maintain eye contact. "In addition to the loss of your own, there are some things Lieutenant Corvin will need to hear about, and I do not look forward to informing him of those facts." A brown-haired human man stepped forward and put a hand on Xerin's shoulder.
"If you don't mind, Zee, I think I should be the one to break the news to Darick. It... might hurt less coming from me." The man extended his other hand to Captain Garrett.
"Commander Deek Solgan, Pathfinder Squadron leader and Valor's Executive Officer. I used to be Darick's wingman."
"I've actually heard quite a bit about you, Commander. You and Corvin's exploits above Malastare in particular made for a thrilling dinner theatre of the mind." Garrett said as he shook the younger man's hand, looking over the pilot's shoulder to see a second group of guests arrive via the transporter.
"I'm sure," Deek said with a warm smile.
"I've arranged for some of my security team to escort the rest of your people from here and the other Transporter Rooms over to the shuttle bay for the service, but I'll escort you personally."
Garrett motioned for them to follow him back out into the corridor, and he led the visiting crew down to the shuttle bay. The three A-wing pilots, a human woman, a green-skinned alien with two long head-tails draped over his shoulders, and a tall, silver-blue furred canine, stood by their fighters alongside Commander Paxton and Lieutenant Chase as crews on the far side of the bay moved three black casket capsules into position near the first set of shuttle bay force fields. The capsules were then draped with flags emblazoned with the Federation crest, a silver starfield flanked on either side by laurels against a vibrant blue background.
The visiting A-wing pilots caught sight of their commanding officers and moved as one to greet them, introducing themselves to Captain Garrett as well. Gradually, members of Orion's crew began to filter in, until the shuttle bay was nearly filled. The crew divided into three ranks, sorted mostly by their division, with the visiting Alliance crew taking up position between the senior staff and the rest of the crew. Captain Garrett stepped out in front of the rest of his command staff, and turned to face the assembly. Speeches like this were something every Captain dreaded, but in their line of work, he knew they were always inevitable. He decided to keep his remarks as brief as he could, while doing whatever he could to inspire his crew. He almost wished he had a podium to lean against, but he straightened his spine and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Dealing with loss of personnel is one of the earliest tests a Starfleet Captain is put through. It is an exercise that none look forward to completing, and dread having to come across in the field. Our mission, and the mission of the Federation, has always been a peaceful one, of exploration and discovery. Chief Burns, Lieutenant Gleason, and Ensign Santos all signed on for just that reason. They were all exceptional officers who did their duty with pride. And all of them died in defense of their fellow shipmates. Their sacrifice ensured the safety of the warp core, wounded in Sick Bay, and crew bunkered in the mess hall respectively, and we owe them all a debt we can never repay." He paused to take in the rows of humans and aliens gathered before him.
"It is with great sorrow that we commit their bodies to the unknown, so they may continue to boldly go where no one has gone before. Be with the stars... and thank you for your heroism." The Captain nodded to the crew chief at the console nearby, and the three caskets rose on their hoversleds, and maneuvered out of the shuttle bay towards the aft photon torpedo tubes. This ceremony normally would have been held in the forward torpedo bays with a small staff present, but the two men and one woman who had been slain were some of the longest-tenured crew aboard Orion, and they were well-known by almost everyone aboard. A pair of musicians from the crew had volunteered to perform the funeral dirges, and as the death march echoed in the shuttle bay, the caskets were gently launched from the aft torpedo bay two decks above. The three capsules floated past Orion's starboard nacelle and out into the blackness of space, off on one final, everlasting mission.