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Jedi Master Alin Samera winced as the explosion of a Vulture Droid narrowly skimmed his Actis Interceptor's unshielded hull. His R4 unit, R4-D3, loosed a high-pitch squeal and quick check to port and starboard told him that his wingmen were staying in tight formation. As more fighters rained from the Venerator-class Star Destroyer's ventral bay, Alin punched the throttle. His group was on a rapid relative descent into the Separatist and they were going in hot.

The world of Rhen Var dominated the background as the space battle erupted. Alin's thoughts were on his comrade and friend, Ki-Adi, leader of the ground forces that were responsible for liberating this rock. Alin's job was just to make sure the victory on the ground remained one in space. Although the mission profile seemed simple enough, the Jedi Master could not shake the eerie feeling that this whole battle was doomed before they had even launched.

The Force was not with them today, he knew it.

Alin shook the thought off and refocused himself on the objective. Ahead of him another wave of fighters raced in at them and began unloading. A sea of red laser bolts prompted him to put his Actis in a tight barrel roll. He tagged one of the oncoming Vultures and watched his rangefinder as numbers continued to scroll down. Over the course of the war, the Sabers had perfected a sort of Jedi Battle Meld allowing them to communicate without using conventional means. It had proven invaluable in past trials. Today would be no different.

Sabers, show me corkscrew formation three.

On cue, the five Jedi Starfighters tightened up their wedge. Saber Six, Jedi Knight Meryl Krisanja inverted and brought her starfighter up and back down as to take the lead of the formation. Saber Five followed suit as did Four, and so on until the six Actis Interceptors twisted and rolled with precision impossible for anyone but Jedi pilots. A storm of laser cannon fire unloaded into the oncoming Vulture formation drilling a hole through the final wave of anti-starfighter defenses.

Alin keyed his comm.

"All 170s, this is General Samera, we're through. Fire at will. Fire at will."

No sooner did the Jedi Master give the order to commence attack did an image of an Actis being destroyed flash in his mind. The Force premonition distracted Alin for a brief moment as he tried to make sense of it. The Force was trying to tell him something—but what?

Without warning a shrill warning blared in his cockpit. He was painted with a target lock. The shrill warning evened out and was replaced by a beep. The increasing frequency of the beeps indicated that the missile was incoming. His R4 wailed uncontrollably.

Sabers: All evasive, NOW!

Expertly, Alin's Saber Flight broke formation and scattered. But it was already too late for his wingman, Saber Two, Jedi Knight Li Ettyk, as his Actis exploded brilliantly, causing Alin to shield his eyes. Shrapnel pinged off of his starfighter's hull as he brought it out of a climb that was too great for his inertial compensator to compensate for. He allowed himself a brief moment to mourn as he realized the gravity of what happened. His R4 continued to scream uncontrolably.

"R4, Pipe down!"Alin's thoughts were no longer succinct enough for the Battle Meld to remain effective so he punched up his unit's tactical frequency on his comm. "The clones. They've turned on us!" He didn't need to add that the battle was lost.

In an instant, his thoughts were on Ki-Adi-Mundi and a split-second later, Alin felt his comrade die just as he'd felt Li die.

"Sithspawn! Sabers, counterstrike pattern four!"

The other four Jedi Starfighters formed up into wing pairs and swooped up and away.

So many thoughts flooded the Jedi Master's head but he would need to survive this day before he could address them. He focused on doing exactly that. He tweaked his thrust to zero, applied etheric rudder to port and punched the throttle back to full, putting him in a flat spin that oriented him on the treacherous clone pilot Tyhpus Bronski and his Hammer Flight.

Alin made his Actis Interceptor dance as he evaded the flurry of incoming fire with little effort. He brought the nose of his fighter up and inverted then side slipped to port before he brought his fighter back down. A tear ran down the contour of Alin's cheek as he thumbed weapon control to Ion cannons and let fly.

A steady stream of azure bolts of energy unloaded from his Actis' second pair of cannons. No bit of evasive piloting would spare the clone pilot or his ARC-170. The ion blasts reached their target and blue lightning danced all over the clone fighter before it went dark and every system crashed.

The Jedi Master stood his fighter up on its starboard wing as he halved in between the 170 formation and brought it around impossibly fast even for a Jedi. Without waiting for his reticle to come down on his next target, Alin opened fire pelting another of the ARC-170s with an unrelenting barrage of ion blasts, until it, too, became a victim of system failure. Utilizing the Actis' greater mobility, Alin jammed the throttle forward and raced back ahead of the four remaining 170s. The focused their attention and firepower on him, leaving them vulnerable.

His fighter began to rattle under the assault, but a glance at his sensor board told him that he wouldn't need to hold out much longer as each the Saber wing pairs arced around. His astromech blared another panicked warning. Alin ignored it.

Behind him, the four 170s were engulfed in blue lighting as a pair of Jedi Starfighters came in hot from their unsuspecting flanks. They blasted past the derelict fighters to take up flanking positions on each side of Alin—standard wedge formation.

"Master Samera, what next?"

That, from Tem Aznable, Saber Three.

"We make a break for it. These Interceptors aren't hyperspace capable, so unless we find a hidden cache of hyperdrive rings, we're not going anywhere. We run planet side and find an out-of-the-way port and see if we can arrange transport for us and our fighters back to Coruscant and find out what's happened. We can be sure this isn't an isolated occurrence. You've all felt the disturbances in the Force."

Alin's voice became low—almost scared.

"Jedi are dying everywhere."

The Jedi Master snorted as a group of blue dots appeared on his sensor board coming in on heading two-seventy. They were sending another group after his Jedi group. Part of him wanted to embrace the anger that threatened to consume him. The clones that the Jedi fought with—died with—had betrayed them. Alin wanted to make them all pay; wanted to destroy them all. He shook away the thought. Revenge and anger were of the Dark Side.

Aside from that, the situation was a tactical impossibility.

"Saber Flight, on me. Prepare for planetary re-entry in fifteen. Let's get low. Let's get fast."

Gracefully, Alin peeled off and brought his Actis starfighter around for a planetary approach with Saber Flight following closely in his wake. The gravitational field of Rhen Var tugged at Alin's Interceptor. He flipped an overhead switch that narrowed the Actis' wing profile for non-combat flight. Static burst in over the comm unit as the Sabers entered Rhen Var's atmosphere.

For Master Alin Samera and Saber Flight, the Clone Wars now had a new objective—survival.