Title: Inner Demons, Outer Evils

Summary: A tragic event sets Rogue Squadron on the path to the truth...and sends one of the Rogues on a collision course with himself.

Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.

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Chapter 8: Hell of a Fight

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Wedge had just moved his glass out of the way for the staff to set down his plate when he heard the beep of his comlink. As he got to his feet, a glance around the table told him that Hobbie, Wes, and Jesina were doing the same. A moment later, Cheriss did as well. She was a fighter pilot and her squadron was assigned to Lusankya.

As Wedge and his companions made their way to the door, attempting as little disruption as possible, he saw others doing the same. Some were the Rogues. Others he recognized as members of Pash Cracken's A-wing squadron, the Aces – including Pash himself. Others he didn't know, but assumed they were assigned in some way to the task force he was commanding.

He felt a hand on his shoulder just as he stepped through the door. Turning, he saw Winter and Tycho. "I'm going to take him back to the hospital. With all of you leaving, he doesn't have much support here, and we don't feel like dealing with the reporters who'll be waiting when we leave." She didn't say it, but he could see there was another reason. Tycho was exhausted and extremely tense.

"I understand." He hurriedly hugged Tycho and said, "Feel better."

"I wish I was going with you."

Wedge shook his head. "You've earned a break."

"So have you."

"I've had mine the last few months," he called over his shoulder as he ran for the room where their gear had been stored.

Hurriedly changing into his flight suit, he joined the other Rogues in the squad's hangar.

"Know something, Wedge?" Jesina asked as she double-checked her gear one last time. "Pulling us out of a high-profile state dinner probably blew any element of surprise we may have had."

"Yeah, well, let's hope Cracken thought of that."

"And let's hope we weren't the cause of another diplomatic incident," Wes chimed in with a grin.

"At least this time it's not really our fault," Hobbie called across the hangar as he dropped into the cockpit.

"Oh, they'd find a way to blame us," Wes retorted, following suit.

Wedge, too, climbed into the cockpit. He put his helmet on and ran through the start-up sequence, then keyed the comm. "All right, Rogues, report in."

"Rogue Three ready to fly."

"Four, four lit and in the green."

"Five, good to go."

"Six, I'm okay for now."

Wedge and the other waited expectantly for Jesina's voice to follow Hobbie's. When it didn't he called out, "Seven?"

"Ah, got a problem, Lead. Only two lit. Repeat, only two engines up and running."

Wedge swore under his breath. "Okay, two flight, pace Seven on the way up. We'll get someone to look at it up there. Any other problems?"

"None."

There were no problems with the rest of the Rogue fighters and the flight up to Lusankya was, although slow, otherwise uneventful.

The Wraiths – a unit formed by Wedge as an x-wing squadron but later recommissioned as an Intelligence unit – were waiting for Rogue Squadron when they arrived. Their commanding officer, Garik "Face" Loran, waited while Wedge ordered an overhaul of Jesina's fighter, then said, "I've got all the info you need for the mission."

"Glad to know that someone does."

"What's wrong with her fighter?"

Wedge scowled. "Two engines down."

"It's not my fault, Wedge," Jesina defended herself. "I ran a complete systems check last night. It was perfect."

"Well, it's obviously not now."

It was her turn to scowl. "I've been flying as long as you have. Would you have missed something like that? A two-engine failure?"

"I wouldn't think so. But neither would I expect Corran to shoot at me, or Tycho to be hospitalized because he's suicidal. So as far as I'm concerned, anything is possible." He sighed and, frustrated, ran a hand through his hair. "Calm down, Jesina. I'm not blaming you, so don't worry about it."

Face rested a hand on Wedge's shoulder. "I was sorry to hear about Corran and Tycho."

Wedge shrugged him off. "Just two more losses to a squadron that's already lost too many."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that lasted until Face said, "Oh, Wedge, we need to speak to Myn as well."

Wedge frowned. "Do I want to know why?"

"You can probably guess."

He sighed. "I can only imagine." He shook his head. "You can talk to him after you give me whatever details you have, because I'd really like to know what's going on. And why I'm commanding a task force that lends itself more to liberating a planet than a single person, high-priority or not."

"Kell is waiting for us in the briefing room right off the hangar. I thought we'd go over the basics now, warn Myn about Lara...Kirney...whoever, then go over the details with everyone."

Wedge nodded and, motioning for Jesina, Wes, and Hobbie to follow him, walked with Face to where Kell Tainer, the Wraith's second-in-command, waited.

"All right," Face said once everyone was seated, "First I need to warn you that I don't know much about what we're doing – just the bare minimum to get the job done. I'll go over where we're going, then how we're going to get there – and who's waiting for us."

"We're currently en route to Zhar. It's remarkable in that it's remained virtually untouched throughout the war. It has no known political leanings, preferring instead to remain neutral. However, Intel indicates that someone has set up shop there. Specifically," he paused, entering a few commands into his datapad, "Here."

A holographic image appeared of the table, a cluster of buildings surrounding a rectangular courtyard. "What is it?" Wedge asked.

"It was an industrial complex that closed down a few years ago." He pointed to one set of buildings. "The entire northwest corner was destroyed by an explosion. That's why the complex closed. But since the whole property was bought by a man named Lekar Sootan, it's been rebuilt."

"Never heard of him," Wes said.

"No reason you should have. He doesn't exist. There's no information on him anywhere. His sole purpose is to own this complex. And it's in here," he gestured again, "that we believe our target is being held.

"Who is our target?" Jesina asked.

Face shrugged. "No one knows, except General Cracken. All I've been told is that when we see him we'll know we've got the right guy." The intelligence mans eyes showed his displeasure with the arrangement.

"Terrific," Wedge muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. "Do we have a plan in place to get him out?"

"We do." He handed Wedge a package. "ID's for several of your people. Zhar has been trying to convince off-worlders to move there from Coruscant and other populous worlds. You know, escape the overcrowding and all that. That's going to be the cover for some of you, and the cover for moving in the gear we need. The rest is going to be a business trip – business owners and a team of consultants or something like that."

"All right. Now, how do we get on planet?"

"The Wraiths who are going down are going in under cover ID's we've already established. Your people are heading down on two different ships, both of which are rendezvousing with us when we come out of hyperspace."

"Whose ships?" Wedge asked.

"One is Mara Jade's. She may be seen as aligned with the New Republic, but she's still first and foremost a trader. The only catch with Mara is that she'll get us in – she has legit business there anyway – but she won't get us out."

"Typical Mara Jade," Wes mumbled. "Who's the other Captain?"

"A woman Winter and Iella – yes, they were assigned here – know, who was apparently working on Zhar. A former Rebel, I guess, though she had no interest in telling me what she does now."

Wedge frowned. He didn't like dealing with wild cards. "What's her name?"

Face shrugged. "She wouldn't give it."

"I heard Winter say it once," Kell interrupted. "Sounded something like Elsca."

Wedge felt the knot that had started to form in his stomach tighten. "Elscol? Elscol Loro?"

Kell nodded. "Yeah, that's it. You know her?"

"She was a Rogue," Wedge said softly, the knot now turning into a block of ice. "You said she was on-planet on her own?"

Face nodded. "That's right. You say it like it's a bad thing."

Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie exchanged uneasy glances. "This doesn't bode well, boss," Wes remarked.

Frowning, Face asked, "Anyone care to explain?"

"Elscol left the Alliance because she didn't like the way things were being handled, and she decided after Tycho's trial that she wasn't too fond of the New Republic."

"So she left. So did General Bel Iblis. What's the big deal?"

"I'm getting to that. You see, after Elscol left, she stayed in the business of breaking down the Empire. She helped Rogue Squadron liberate Thyferra, and she still does it, last I knew."

"She's an insurrectionist," Hobbie explained. "She uses the skills she gained during the Rebellion to coordinate populations to overthrow governments."

"But there's nothing wrong with the government on Zhar," Face objected, confused.

"Elscol doesn't just overthrow leaders already in place. She also organizes resistance efforts," Wes told him. "Which means—"

"She probably has reason to believe that someone is planning on taking over Zhar," Jesina finished for him.

"Well, that explains this," Kell said, tapping his datapad.

"What?" The word rolled off the lips of just about everyone in the room.

"Just before you all landed, we got a transmission from Iella. Runt told me, because you were busy." Hohass Ekwesh, known as Runt, was the Wraith's communications officer. "An Imperial Star Destroyer Mark II and a Corellian heavy cruiser are in orbit around Zhar."

Face swore. "Either they know we're coming and they really want that prisoner to stay a prisoner, or that's the beginning of a very hostile takeover."

"I'm betting it's the latter," Wedge said.

"Why?" Hobbie asked.

"We've been sent on a rescue mission with a Super Star Destroyer and two Imperial-class, with 22 squadrons of fighter support."

"Sounds like overkill to me," Jesina commented, knowing exactly where Wedge was headed.

"Not overkill. Just preparation for one hell of a fight – one Cracken had to know was coming."