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Skywalker: Resurgent Ch.10: Fighting Over a Graveyard

"Contacts! Contacts at the ambush point!"

"Calmly, sensors," the captain chided, not taking his eyes off of the tactical display. "Numbers and classifications?"

"Yes sir," the sensor operator said nervously. "Three transports, Imperial transponders. All three have been pulled out of hyperspace at the expected chokepoint."

"Very good," was the response. "Comms, broadcast our demand of surrender on an open channel. Then order capture teams to standby."

"Aye sir, broadcasting now."

I stood watching all of this take place as my new naval captain gave orders to the bridge crew. Once again, I was glad for how things had turned out with my new crew selection.

One of the things that I had freely admitted to Dodonna was that I had absolutely no idea how to run or command a warship. I could fly a fighter and make a passable impression of leading troops or fighter wings into combat but running the day to day operations of a warship was something I had no training in or concept for.

Enter my counterpart for running the Resurgent and Rogue Cell; Captain Elpall Shin.

A former Imperial hailing from the Core Worlds, Shin was an aged, pale man of average height. He had a shaved head and a thin, black mustache. He seemed to have a default expression of either boredom or sleepiness on his face, but I'd quickly learned that was a misleading trait and that the man was always alert and highly perceptive. He came from a Core World, Andara, and had reached the rank of lieutenant in the Imperial Navy when he'd chosen to defect to the Alliance. I didn't really know the details and his file didn't list them, but he had been with the Alliance for three years so far and had earned enough trust and recognition to be promoted to captain.

Truthfully, I hadn't had much of a choice in who to accept as my ship's naval commander. I actually suspected that I was being forced into accepting one of a small list of candidates presented to me as 'choices.' Whether it was the Alliance's way of getting someone aboard the Resurgent to keep an eye on me or some kind of sabotage, perhaps perpetrated by a still steaming Commander Pye'ke, I wasn't sure. In either case, I was happy enough with whom I ended up with.

Captain Shin hadn't sought to challenge my authority upon arrival and had done great work in getting the ship's naval crew up to his standards. He came off as stern, but not unfair whenever I'd seen him handle his subordinates. He'd also made it clear to me that while he acknowledged I was in overall command, he'd wanted my assurance that I would not seek to undermine him as the ship's day-to-day commander in regards to daily function or especially in combat. I gave him my word that I would yield to his experience in naval affairs, but asked him to do the same and not undermine my own authority with the pilots or other personnel. He'd agreed, and there'd been little trouble between us since then.

Today was a good example of how we normally worked. He took care of the crew and in handling the ship while I stood nearby and either ready for my own role or simply observing. Mostly, my job here was handling the pilots when necessary and giving direction whenever I was here and not in a cockpit myself. There was only a need for so many pilots at once for an operation like this and I wanted the other pilots to get a chance to practice as well. Admittedly, I was also learning quite a bit by being on the command bridge and watching Captain Shin in action. He was calm in his command and wasn't the stereotypical 'screamer' when one of his subordinates did something to displease him.

"Transport Three is running," reported the sensor station.

"Acknowledged," Captain Shin said. "Signal for Flight Control to handle an intercept and stop them."

"Yes, sir."

A few moments later, I nodded approvingly as I saw two of the six X-wings break from their position and chase after the much slower transport. They'd done well to wait for orders to move and not just blindly rush off as soon as they saw something happening. One of the things I had been working to actively discourage was for any of my pilots to develop tunnel vision or to become glory hounds, which was a serious problem if left unchecked. There were stories of American pilots falling victim to this effect during Earth's second world war and subsequently leading to many unnecessary losses. While I certainly didn't want to discourage creative thinking or boldness in any of my guys, there was a reason militaries emphasized discipline in combat.

Rogue Nine and Twelve quickly caught up with the transport. Making a close pass over their bow, the two came around for another pass on the stern of the ship. Seeing as the ship wasn't going to be easily deterred, Rogue Twelve fired several shots into the ship's engines. Overcoming the civilian ship's weak shields, the shots blew out one of the transport's two main propulsion units. Spitting fire and smoke, the damaged ship chose to finally obey the demand to surrender and shut down it's remaining engine.

Captain Shin ordered the ship closer and for tractor beams to activated to bring in the damaged transport closer to the other two. I waited until the boarding craft had launched and there was a lull in bridge activity before speaking my thoughts aloud.

"Well done, captain," I said, loudly enough to be heard by the other personnel nearby. "Another successful capture. The crew seems to be shaping up extremely well up here."

"I've certainly found myself with fewer complaints, sir," Shin drawled in his prim Core Worlder accent. "Though this is hardly a test of their skills, I hold every confidence that they are learning to do their jobs well."

"I agree," I nodded, noting the pleased looks of the nearby crewmen as they heard us. I may not have been able to learn all of their names and stories, but they were all my responsibility now. That meant that their performance and morale was always one of my concerns these days. It certainly didn't hurt to let the occasional bit of obvious praise 'slip' while in their presence either.

Looking back at the holographic display, I saw that the first transport had just been boarded without incident.

"Now," I continued. "Let's see exactly what we've acquired today."

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

"Foodstuffs, sir."

"Food?" I repeated. "That's all you've found?"

"Yes sir," Makks reported. "Squads are reporting the same for all three ships. Lots of military rations but also dried meats and preserved stuff too."

I frowned at the small holo of the leader of the boarding teams. Makks was really coming into his own as he stepped up in his original duties as leader of Aurek squad and today was no different. They had done their jobs and hadn't reported any casualties from either our people or the ships' crews. My frown wasn't directed at him, so much as what he had to report from his boarding teams.

"Very well, captain," I acknowledged. "Please convey my appreciation to your men for their work today. You've all done well."

"Thank you, sir!" the young captain said, snapping off a sharp salute.

I returned the gesture before turning off the holocomm at the terminal and deciding to depart the bridge for now. I gave my congratulations to the members of the bridge crew I passed on my way to the turbolift before entering it and beginning my journey back to my quarters/office. As I strolled through the ship's corridors, my mind pondered what this meant.

We'd done this same song and dance six times now. Today marked the seventh convoy we'd intercepted and the fifth one to be carrying primarily food. Sure, there were a few other things mixed in that we'd taken but nothing significant or in nearly enough quantities to justify a raid if they were the objective. We had probably stolen enough food to feed a decently sized army.

Was the Alliance that short on supplies? There had to be more useful places we could be, more valuable targets we could strike at. Was this just Alliance Command's way of giving us time to prove ourselves before sending us against more valuable targets? If so, why was food our primary takeaway from these raids? Most planets were perfectly capable of feeding themselves without outside support. For an armed resistance, why were we not focusing on medical supplies or weapons? Even if Command was nervous about putting us up against imperial warships, we could still be put to better use elsewhere. We were well past the point where I'd consider it just a coincidence that we were being fed intelligence that sent us after food convoys.

'Perhaps I am being overeager,' I considered, sidestepping a cleaning droid as I walked. 'What's that old adage? 'Hurry up and wait?' We're bound to go up against harder targets eventually. Let's just hope our first real battle as a crew doesn't make me wish for the simpler days of raiding Imperial transports.'

On a whim, I turned around and decided to pay a visit to Flight Control before heading back to my quarters. They were operating in a rather limited capacity as they trained and only had a limited number of assets to control. In time, I imagined their job would be far more hectic as we engaged in larger operations or performed in scenarios where timing and coordination would be crucial. Still, I figured it never hurt to let one's subordinates know you were watching or that you cared.

The door opened and I strode into the hub where there was still plenty of activity, even though there was little work to be done. The reason for this was the several instructors we had aboard were walking back and forth between the stations and questioning the crew on their duties and lecturing on how to handle a specific task. Soon, some of them would be departing once they'd passed on as much training as they were able while others had already garnered positions aboard and in other areas.

I passed several figures at work, nodding respectfully to each of them as they greeted me. I then walked over to a figure who was staring intently at several overhead monitors. Occasionally, they would make a remark into their own headset or to one of the seated crewmen in the operations areas. Waiting for an appropriate lull in activity, I reached out and tapped them gently on the shoulder to get their attention.

"Things going well on this end?" I asked.

Blue headtails turned to reveal the familiar face of Ms. Duella, serving as the flight coordinator for this operation.

Like the rest of the former slaves, she had traded in whatever rags or inappropriate outfit she'd been forced to wear and had donned an Alliance uniform. Since the Alliance was an admittedly ragtag group with a lot of clashing cultures and styles, 'uniform' was a rather loose concept in some cases. The Alliance actually offered a lot of leeway with what their personnel wore so long as it kept to the general Alliance colors and was appropriate for the job. In Duella's case, that meant off-white, almost cream colored shirt and trousers with tan accents at the sides. She seemed to favor a dark blue zip-up vest these days and a simple grey metal band that covered her forehead and rested on the small cone-like protrusions her species had in place of where humans had ears.

"Sir!" she greeted me, snapping a sharp salute.

I returned the gesture with a far more casual example of my own and a small chuckle.

"You know you don't have to do that while working, right?"I asked. "I understand if you're in the middle of something and can't be bothered."

"I know, sir," she said, looking a bit bashful as she dropped her arm. "But I've been practicing..."

"I can tell," I noted. "I'm just dropping by to check on things here. Everything go alright today?"

Duella brightened as she informed me of how well things were going with everyone's training. Something I'd noticed with her and just about all of the liberated slaves was how they had all seemed to come out of their shells as the weeks had passed. At first, it seemed they were too nervous to do much, likely afraid that they had only traded one taskmaster for another. But as time went on, they'd all begun to show more of themselves. It helped that even though the Alliance was a military organization, it was a surprisingly casual affair. The easygoing nature of the personnel was easy to see once its members were off duty and it helped build a more relaxed atmosphere.

The young twi'lek girl had surpassed any initial expectations I may have had for her. She had thrown herself into learning the basic skills that Alliance instructors had insisted on teaching the former slaves herself if any of them came up lacking in her eyes. She'd provided a lot of direction and had emerged as something of a natural leader among that initial group. She'd been a big help in picking skills the former slaves had and was good at getting them positions well suited to them.

She in particular seemed pretty talented with communications gear and protocols and could usually be seen helping out here, in Flight Control. There was talk of her among the other Alliance members we'd taken aboard about her skills being recognized at some point. If she kept this up, and with her good rapport with many of the crew, we might just have to make her one of the ship's senior NCOs or maybe just get her a officer commission.

Duella finished up a tangent she was on about the mess deck personnel learning to create better meals out of ration packs when I decided to sneak in a few words for myself.

"That's good," I replied. "And how are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine, sir!" she answered easily. "I've been spending some of my off hours hanging out with the damage control guys and learning a bit about how they operate. It's useful and fascinating stuff!"

"It is," I agreed. "But you don't need to push yourself so hard, y'know? You've been running around like a madwoman for so long, I sometimes wonder if you're in two places at once. I for one appreciate all the effort you've been putting in but you're allowed to take it easy once in awhile."

"I know I don't have to," Duella replied with a sheepish expression on her face. "I just really wanted to. There's plenty to learn and always something to do and I'm just happy to throw myself into it. I promise, I'm really enjoying myself!"

"Well, alright then," I relented. "Just promise that you'll be careful not to burn yourself out, alright? I haven't had to order anyone to bed after working too hard and I'd rather not have you be the first one."

Duella suddenly grinned mischievously as she pretended to fan herself with her hand.

"Oh my, commander," she tittered. "If you feel the need to order me to bed, could you at least give me some advance notice? I'm a busy gal these days."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she was just kidding. I'd found that Duella had a bit of a bawdy sense of humor that showed itself at unexpected times. The first time she'd done it near me, she made an unexpected remark about her own uniform and I'd nearly tripped over my own feet in surprise. I'm not sure if it was a twi'lek thing or just a Duella thing but I decided that the best way to deal with it was to just let is slide and not to take such remarks too seriously. I especially didn't want to shut her down if this was just her way of expressing herself around people she trusted. I was about ninety-nine percent sure she was just saying it for the laughs it got out of people.

At least... I'm pretty sure that it was just a joke.

"Funny," I replied flatly. "Keep making comments like that and I'll have to promote you to ship's jester. It'll be one more qualification we can add to your name on top of all the others you keep picking up."

Duella beamed, shamelessly pleased with herself. She then turned her head to look towards a crewman who seemed to be calling for her attention.

"Looks like they need me to get back to it," she remarked. "Is there anything else I can help you with, commander?"

I'd actually gotten a lot more information than I had initially asked for, but decided not to say anything. Her enthusiasm for making sure this ship ran as smooth as possible was an undeniably endearing asset. I wish I had a hundred more just like her.

"No, that will be all," I answered. "Thanks for the chat, crewman."

Duella smiled brightly again and saluted one more time before turning to tackle whatever else was demanding her attention. I decided to stop bothering everyone and let them get back to work. Heading to the turbolift, I punched in my destination on the panel as the door slid shut in front of me.

'If that young lady were any more passionate about her job,' I thought to myself. 'I'd probably have to give up command and just put her in charge of the whole damn ship. We'd likely conquer the whole sector in less than a month.'

I let out an amused huff as I imagined the young twi'lek's reaction to just being granted a commission, let alone her own ship to command.

Maybe someday...

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

The Next Day...

Leia met us at the rendezvous the next day. While the rest of the crew was offloading the spoils of our operations, she had some good news to convey to me personally.

"Your idea for publishing your writing through Alliance network connections has been granted provisional approval by the Alliance Council," Leia informed me.

I smiled and nodded gratefully to her at the news.

Truthfully, I was glad to have the assistance of the Alliance in this matter. While I technically didn't need them to write and distribute my stuff, I couldn't deny that the Alliance's ability to circumvent imperial censorship and reach a wider audience would make gaining an audience a thousand times easier than it would be otherwise. For example; how many people write their opinions on the internet just on Earth? That was just one world. The holonet had trillions more users on it every day. Besides that, since my writing was ultimately detrimental to the Empire, it wasn't so hard for the Alliance to agree to including it in their usual publicity postings.

"You said 'provisionally approved,'" I noted.

Leia nodded, understanding my question.

"Everything you write will have to go through an overview process to ensure that nothing anti-Alliance or detrimental to the cause is distributed. Final approval will have to go to at least one member of the Command Council before being sent through the secure networks."

I frowned as Leia explained the stipulations. She must have caught the expression, as she was quick to reassure me a moment later.

"I know it doesn't sound particularly appealing," Leia admitted. "But you can't just expect them to put out potentially sensitive information over Alliance networks without some kind of approval."

"Understandable," I replied. "I suppose I just don't like the idea of someone editing what I'm writing. If just a few words are changed for the sake of making a dig at the Emperor or at the Empire as a whole, it could compromise the whole work and make people dismiss it as another source of rebel propaganda. I really want this to be a more non-biased source of publication."

"I understand that," Leia assured me. "And I said as much to Mon Mothma when presenting it. She's fully on board with that sentiment."

"She is?" I asked, surprised.

"She'll be the one reviewing what you write before it gets published," she informed me. "I told her what you told me; that you want to pick up where she left off with her initial publications and she was flattered. She was easily the strongest supporter you had in the room after me."

I think I was a bit starstruck at the idea of that. While I didn't exactly idolize Mon Mothma, I did do a lot of research on her as well as numerous other figures I could think of. She had a very impressive career and struck me as a very well-spoken and upright figure in a government otherwise rife with indifference and corruption. Her writings in 'A Call to Reason' and the Deceleration of Rebellion reminded me heavily of the works of Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson with just a hint of Rudolf Steiner mixed in. I didn't automatically agree with everything she said or did but I certainly respected her for what she's already done, if not for what she may still do in the future.

"I suppose if I have to have an editor, I couldn't ask for a better one," I admitted aloud. "Was there something else?"

Leia had seemed a bit fidgety since she'd come aboard and I hadn't chosen to comment on it until now. A quick probe through the Force told me that something heavy was on her mind, although I had no idea what it could be.

"Luke," she began. "I've been helping you with your own projects for awhile now. Don't get me wrong; I've been happy to do so. You've more than made up for any sense of doubt anyone might have had through your ability to produce results."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming," I remarked.

"But now I'm going to ask you to return the favor," Leia frowned. Her face took on a more controlled expression as she continued. "I want you to go back to Alderaan."

"Alderaan?" I asked, surprised.

"There are likely still survivors," she insisted. "Areas that may have mostly survived the moon debris impacting the surface or people who were able to get underground and avoid the worst of the shock waves. Alliance Command agrees that it's worth looking into. The Empire seems content to just let the planet wither and die, but not me. Not the Alliance. We can try to locate shelters or places where survivors managed to ride out the debris from the moon. If they're there, we'll extract them and bring them somewhere safe."

"And that's why you want me," I realized aloud. "The Resurgent can enter the atmosphere and more easily take on refugees."

I could almost see the emotional pang in Leia at my choice of words and felt like kicking myself for them. I didn't know what else I might call them but I could try to be more sensitive about it. It had to be killing her inside that her planet was a wasteland and anyone left must be suffering while having to eke out survival on the blasted and scarred surface.

"Even with all the dust and debris still in the way, your ship's specs say you can still power through it," Leia insisted. "And there's something else. A set of coordinates I know about that might have something at them."

"Something?" I asked leadingly.

"I don't know what it is," she admitted. "Only that it exists. I was offworld too much of the time doing work for the Senate and couldn't risk a direct message regarding it with my father. Even in conversations, we had to be careful. All I know for sure is that it's some kind of cache or bunker my father informed me about in the event that disaster hit the planet. He wanted me to be able to find it and for whatever was in there to go to the Alliance if anything happened to him or Alderaan. It's on land owned by the royal family. Maybe it's a shelter of some kind, maybe..."

Leia trailed off, not finishing her sentence. She didn't have to and I didn't need the Force for me to figure out what she was likely thinking.

'Maybe my parents are still alive and that's where they are,' I finished mentally.

"Have you got a plan?" I asked next. "Are we getting reinforcements or are we to go in alone?"

"We'll be getting everything we can throw at them if that's what it takes," she confirmed. "Ships with as much carrying capacity as we can get and as quickly as we can assemble them. We've already been accumulating supplies and arranging shelters along the Outer Rim. You and your people have been a big help in that regard."

"Those food convoys we've been raiding," I mentioned, nodding.

"Exactly. A lot of it was military rations and will serve just as well feeding anyone we rescue. Imperial garrisons and populated worlds have stocks enough for their local garrison if their supplies run low. We're not depriving anyone of a meal and the people of Alderaan desperately need these supplies. Given how the Empire is responsible for the state of Alderaan, I don't think it's too much to requisition their rations until we can get the survivors settled elsewhere."

"Don't forget, I've actually tried Imperial ration packs," I responded dryly. "You're not depriving anyone of a meal that they'll miss."

"My sentiments exactly," Leia responded with a weak smile of her own.

Behind that expression, I could sense just how on edge Leia was. She was really banking on me saying that I'd help. Unsurprisingly, doing this meant everything to her right now. I wondered, not for the first time, if Alderaan still existing in some form was more painful for her than if it had been destroyed completely by the Death Star. Now, she had something to fixate on. Something to work herself to the bone for. Hope could be a powerful thing for people to cling to in times of doubt and darkness but it could also be a cruelty all its own when we focus on nothing else.

In the privacy of my own mind, I cursed Tarkin and Sideous once again for their utter stupidity and cruelty. Like petty children, not content to simply be the biggest bullies on the playground, they felt the need to remind others of their position as they inflicted further pain upon others. Never mind that they controlled the planet lock, stock, and barrel. No, they needed an example. Something to remind every world from the most powerful to the most backwater why stepping so much as a centimetre out of line isn't tolerated. Because their twisted minds couldn't comprehend a galaxy where they didn't need to constantly assert their dominance over others.

But I digress these old thoughts. Tarkin was dead and the time when old Palps would get his comeuppance would come soon enough. Right now my friend, my sister, needed my help and I couldn't think of any good reason to turn her down.

"Let me call a meeting," I offered. "Let's hear what you've got so far and we'll work out the details."

And so we did.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

Three Days Later...

We came out of hyperspace a bit further out than typical traffic in the system did. Barely a few light-seconds in from the edge of the system, we wanted to make sure we didn't drop into an ambush and gave ourselves plenty of distance to both evaluate the tactical situation and give the Resurgent plenty of breathing room. The last time I had been here, there had been three Imperial-class Star Destroyers as well as the damned Death Star hanging around. Intel had fluctuated with the expected numbers for Imperial forces in the system and it seemed we'd hit the lower end of their estimate.

Only one star destroyer hung in a high orbital position over Alderaan with several fighter patrols making laps through the system in pattern that placed them between us and their capital ship. The star destroyer itself was outside of the new debris field that circled the planet but still positioned over the planet's northern ice cap like a large dagger, as if it were holding the planet itself hostage and would inflict further harm upon it if anyone dared to try and come close.

I'd like to see them try.

They didn't even bother with trying to hail us or with a demand for surrender before turning their ship towards us. Hardly surprising, really. During the overhaul of the Resurgent, we'd scraped the skull design off of the outer hull. Instead, we replaced it with the classic red Alliance Starbird. While a bold statement, it also made damn clear that we weren't just some pirate scum like the ones we'd taken this ship from. Any Imperial who saw us would be able to quickly identify who we were with and probably attack on sight. Even if it was sure to draw the ire of Imperials everywhere, I rather liked the audacity of flying the Alliance's symbol on such a scale.

It didn't hurt that the crew also seemed to love it.

Upon confirming all of the targets in system, we launched fighters and bombers. Once complete, I began issuing orders.

"Dagger squadron, split up and take out those pickets. Do not enter engagement range of that star destroyer but do everything to make sure those pickets don't make it back either."

"We're on it, Rogue Leader," a jaunty female voice replied, the leader of the ten A-wings we had aboard.

"Cloak Squadron, stand by for your bombing run. Target priority will be shields, secondary will be engines. Rogue Squadron will cut you a path right to your objective."

"This is Cloak One, standing by for your order, Rogue One," came a prim male voice, commanding the twelve Y-wings attached to our force.

Taking down the shields would give us a huge advantage in the engagement, but so would taking out the engines and thus making it impossible for them to make an intercept with the Resurgent. At least, one on their terms. Speaking of, Captain Shin knew his role in this fight and we'd gone over the details several times. Nevertheless, we weren't one hundred percent sure what our opposition here would look like until we arrived in system.

"Rogue One to Resurgent Actual," I commed.

"This is Resurgent Actual. Go ahead, Rogue One," came the reply a few seconds later.

"No other targets have made themselves known," I spoke. "Looks like we've got only the one ISD for the moment. We'll make sure to soften it up for you and give you an opportunity to swoop in unopposed. Until then, I'll trust you to play coy until an opportunity presents itself."

"Copy, Rogue One," Shin replied. "We'll make sure to arrive in the nick of time to take all of the glory of the kill for ourselves. Reinforcements are standing by just out of system if needed."

I smiled wryly at Shin's dry humor and his reminder that we could bring in more firepower if necessary. I knew he'd suggested simply doing so if we encountered limited forces upon arrival and I hadn't dismissed his idea right away. Just the one ISD was certainly well within our ability to handle if we hit it all at once. Shin had actually smiled when I'd given him my biggest reason for not showing our hand by coming in all at once and just taking the system by force;

"We don't want to scare them off now, do we?"

If the captain of that ship encountered a much greater force than his own entering the system, he would certainly choose to retreat rather than doom his ship to a hopeless battle. He wouldn't even have to explain himself to his superiors if he was outnumbered by enough ships. He'd simply sound the alarm that there was a rebel fleet at Alderaan and return with a much greater force at his back. One that we really couldn't afford or hope to fight.

But if they saw only one ship? Older and far less heavily armed than one of the Empire's prestigious ISDs? He would likely be reprimanded if he ran from a fight under those circumstances. Even if he didn't serve under a high ranking admiral or moff who could easily get away with killing his subordinates like Vader could, Imperial officers weren't known for their forgiving or understanding nature. And besides that, we were likely to get more time in this system if there was no one left to run off and tell someone what we were doing here. Even if they got a transmission out reporting that they'd sighted an enemy ship, it wouldn't include how many of us were actually here if we took their ship out before calling in the rest of our forces. No, I was certain that our best move here would be to take the chance and take them down.

Still, the good captain Shin was ready to call for backup if we found ourselves in over our heads. That was good of him to be ready but I was confident we could manage just fine today without the extra assistance.

I watched on my scanner as the A-wings made contact with the first pickets and made short work of them. Standard TIEs were no match for Alliance fighters playing to their strengths and especially not unless they had a serious numbers advantage. The green blips on my scanner swept into range of the TIEs and dispatched them with almost contemptuous ease.

A-wings were ideal for this kind of work. Compact fighters with otherwise minimal staying capabilities, they excelled in anti-fighter roles and in quick strikes. They didn't have the sensors, firepower, shields, or hyperdrive of the X-wing but were deadly in their role as interceptors. Case and point as I watched the last of the TIE fighters vanish from scans.

"Good work, Daggers," I praised. "Pull back and reform at coordinates two-six by four-one. Rogue Squadron, Cloak Squadron, form up. Attack Pattern: Hammer. Cloaks, remember your spacing. Rogues, stick with your wingmen."

Shin had also asked if I was certain I wanted to be in a fighter during this engagement, given not only the risks involved to myself but the difficulties in coordinating a battle from a cockpit instead of a bridge. I had replied by pointing out that he was a far more experienced ship commander than I and that I could be of far more use in a cockpit than out of one today.

"All fighters; be advised," Duella's voice came over the fighter control frequency. "Enemy star destroyer is turning and accelerating onto a fast intercept course with the Resurgent. Additional TIEs have begun launching."

True to her words, the star destroyer hadn't been sitting idle while the A-wings had been doing their work. It had turned onto an intercept course with the Resurgent and had launched it's remaining fighters, which totaled one additional squadron. No bombers but they might've been holding those back, if they had any. The fighters were holding in formation beneath the ISD, moving in standard groups of three. They may pose a slight obstacle for our attack run but I wasn't too inclined to worry about it. This ISD's captain was behaving like a typical Imperial officer; readying to smash his opposition because he was sure he still held the bigger hammer.

The Imperial Naval Academy should be ashamed for teaching it's ship commanders to employ such limited thinking and calling it 'tactics.'

"Copy, Control," I responded. "We are maintaining our attack plan. Rogues, lock s-foils into attack position."

Switching my own fighter into the correct configuration, I observed the enemy's response.

Twelve TIEs had launched and had taken up formation around the star destroyer's bow. They were flying slow, in a staggered line formation and in groups of three while keeping pace with their capital ship. It looked like they intended to break our charge and maybe get a crack at the Y-wings as they blew past. A sound plan, in theory. However, it'd take more than a dozen added TIEs to stop what was coming their way.

"Closing in to contact," I called over the comms. "Rogues, pick your targets and prepare to hit the capital ship after. Cloaks, prepare to fire on any TIEs that attempt to break past us."

No sooner had I finished speaking than the TIEs all surged forward in one large wave right towards us. Instead of being well over two minutes to firing range, they were now only seconds away.

'Who was the idiot who sent those fighters forward and outside of screening range of their capital ship?' I wondered, incredulous.

"Change of plans," I barked over the comm channel. "Enemy fighters closing in. Prepare to engage!"

Was their commander trying to break our charge before we reached the capital ship? Did someone panic and send their fighters forward too soon?

These questions evaporated as we closed to engagement range. It quickly became apparent why TIEs only worked well in groups and when they had the clear advantage. As a space superiority fighter, they left much to be desired. Imperial fighters exploded in rapid succession as we quite literally cut our way through them. In a dogfight, TIEs had an advantage over X-wings in maneuverability. They simply turned better than X-wings and worked well in groups of twos or threes to overwhelm the meager shields aboard our fighters.

However, in a straight up confrontation? A headlong charge where pilots enter engagement range with all guns blazing? Those pilots didn't stand a chance. X-wings simply fired faster, more powerful shots and from a slightly better range. Any numerical advantage they coped to gain by coordinating their fire was a lost cause as trios quickly were whittled down to pairs, then solo craft, and then simply debris.

Said debris bounced off of our craft as we soared through the cloud of destruction we had just created. There was cheering over the squadron frequency and I gritted my teeth as I snapped at them.

"Cut the noise!" I ordered. "Focus up! We've still got that star destroyer to tangle with!"

It wasn't like I was upset that my pilots were celebrating. We'd just wiped out a whole enemy squadron in a single pass; of course there was cause for pride. What struck me was the sheer waste of it. Those pilots died for nothing. A pointless waste of men and materiel. Killing men in combat was one thing and something I had come to expect and expected to handle. Winning like this, it was hardly better than a slaughter and for what?

Pointless. An utterly pointless waste of pilots and ships.

'And didn't that just sum up the Empire in oh so many ways?' my thoughts whispered to me.

The ISD began to fill my viewport and I shunted out my new resentment for the commanding officer of it in order to focus on my attack run. Already, I could see turbolaser batteries turning to face our oncoming fighters and begin firing. The large batteries, ill equipped for small, fast-moving targets, had plenty of trouble tracking us as we entered our engagement range.

In mere moments, we entered position for our pre-planned maneuver and I gave the order over comms.

"Execute!" I ordered.

Like water parting past a rock in a stream, our fighters split over the bow of the star destroyer. Blasterfire scoured the hull, blackening it as we flew within the effective range of the capital ship's shields. We launched proton torpedoes as we passed weapons emplacements, either damaging or outright destroying several of them and gouging the ship's armor plating.

The ISD fired it's turbolaser defenses almost uselessly at us as their systems tried to get a lock on us. The large weapon emplacements, fearsome when pitted against targets too big and slow to dodge, were simply not meant to take on modern fighters moving at attack speeds.

Point defense turrets struggled to turn and lock onto a target. Too slow for their task, many were blown apart as our fire wracked against them and rendered them charred wrecks against the surface of the hull. The ones we didn't manage to take out trailed their return fire uselessly behind us as we passed over the ship in mere seconds and were out of their firing arc.

And while their weapons targeted us, the real hammer hit them.

The Y-wings swept in mere seconds behind us. They broke into pairs, a maneuver we'd practiced many times to diminish the risk of enemy fire taking down the slower fighter-bombers. Eight swept over the dorsal section while the remaining four inverted their craft and went after the poorly defended ventral section. Since up and down were still arbitrary in space, those four had little trouble making their run on the hangar opening any more than the first eight had while sweeping up the raised sections and targeting the shield emitters, which conveniently sat atop the command bridge.

The bombers dropped their payloads in sequence, practically coating the outer hull of the warship with fire from their proton bombs. It was like a storm across the surface of the hull as red and blue fire erupted and shockwaves rippled like waves. For a moment, I could've sworn I saw the durasteel armor actually shudder but it may have just been an optical trick or my imagination.

Fire spat out of the now mangled vessel. Large tongues of fire and metal seemed to shoot from the ruptured parts of the hull, by her stern, and even a few from the command tower. The once pristine ship had been carved up and crippled from a single wave of attacking fighters and bombers. Arguably most impressive was the damage done to the hangar section beneath the main hull. There must have been some sort of secondary detonation, as fire erupted from the hangar opening and cut a brilliant gout below and behind the capital ship.

Rogue Squadron and Cloak Squadron flew at a fair distance behind this destruction, watching with awe and excitement at what we had accomplished. Even I was impressed by how well our single attack pass had gone. True, we'd expended all of our heavier munitions and would have to land and resupply to make another like it but this was a resoundingly successful attack.

"Enemy star destroyer is beginning to list," Duella notified us. "Detecting escape pods launching."

True enough, the first escape pods could be seen launching from the still burning vessel. It was only a few but it was steady number.

"This is Cloak One," came the triumphant voice of the pilot. "Requesting permission for a second pass."

"Stand by, Cloaks," I responded. "Flight Control, is the Resurgent moving in?"

"Affirmative, Rogue One," she confirmed. "Resurgent is accelerating and preparing for an attack run. Our demands for surrender are going unanswered thus far."

My scanners confirmed this a moment later as well as a look outside of my cockpit. Beyond the flaming star destroyer, I could see the black and red of the Resurgent's hull preparing to descend on the crippled ISD. While exposing a carrier to enemy fire at all was typically a bad idea, Venator's were also designed as battleships. Their heavy guns were nothing to scoff at and were more than a match for a crippled modern ISD. I was confident Shin knew what he was doing and wouldn't be moving in yet unless he was certain of what his more advanced sensors were telling him about the enemy's condition.

Apparently, the captain of that star destroyer was having similar thoughts.

Escape pods began to shoot out of the ship in far greater numbers now. Enough that an actual evacuation must've been ordered. The small pods weren't equipped for long-term survival in vacuum, so they'd have to make planetfall depending on how long we were intending on staying here. I for one was planning on sticking around as long as possible.

A part of me knew those crews were in for a rough time if they ended up on the planet surface but a larger part of me couldn't care less. That ISD and its crew were sitting over this dying planet for days if not weeks and had rendered no aid to the civilians still trapped on the surface. Being stuck on the same planet awaiting pickup should be the least they have to go through.

I then thought about making a quick transmission through Flight Control to Captain Shin but ultimately decided against it. Shin and I had talked before the operation and during the planning sessions and had come to a decision about what to do about prisoners. We decided to ignore them for the most part once their ship was destroyed and to simply warn them from attempting to interfere in Alliance operations in this system. We ultimately didn't have a need to take prisoners, nor prevent them from seeing anything we were doing here and reporting back. Shin and I were on the same page with this and I didn't want to seem like I was riding on his shoulder when I was confident he was perfectly capable of remembering things like that on his own.

Next, I ran through my squadron asking for status reports. Rogue squadron didn't lose anyone in that attack but two of my guys had damaged fighters from point defense fire.

"Dagger Squadron reporting all fighters accounted for, Rogue One," Dagger One's chipper voice informed me.

"Cloak Squadron, reporting one casualty," came the response from Cloak One. "Cloak Six, sir. He took a hit from the ISD's point defenses. He didn't make it."

There was a pause on the channel as I processed this information.

"Copy, Cloak One," I replied calmly. "Rogue Squadron, Cloak Squadron, enter formation and return to the Resurgent. Daggers, maintain holding formation. Be on the lookout in case that ISD tries to launch any shuttles or bombers that may still be spaceworthy."

Breaking off the transmission, I heaved a great sigh as the fighting was done, for the moment. I looked out my cockpit window to gaze at the broken world hanging outside of it. Dark clouds filled the atmosphere and obscured much of the planet surface. Vast spirals indicated dust storms and violent activity occurring with the weather but I could only guess how bad it was.

Beyond mere sight though, there was something else. No sensor could verify it but anyone with even rudimentary Force sensitivity would be able to tell. The planet Alderaan was a maelstrom of more than dust and ash. It stood out in the Force like a dying beast on a wild plain somewhere. Like an animal shot by a hunter and just about to bleed out.

I didn't want to go down there. It was so morbid merely sensing it from orbit, I didn't want to think of what it'd be like to actually go down there. But I couldn't help but also consider why we were here and all of the people who may be down there right now and in need of our help.

I activated my comms once again on a frequency meant only for Flight Control.

"Duella, pass word to Captain Shin," I said softly, breaking protocol slightly by using her real name. "Go ahead and bring in the rest of the fleet. Now we can get to work."

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

With enemy forces neutralized, the next phase of the operation could begin.

Maneuvering the Resurgent into the atmosphere was a trickier maneuver on Alderaan than I'd have liked for a first attempt but we really didn't have a choice on the matter. The lower orbitals were still filled with lunar debris and metallic fragments from the handful of artificial satellites that had once been there. We'd had to come in at an unusual angle, attempting to maneuver under the worst of it by coming in where the debris was lightest or where the biggest gaps existed. There'd also been come concern about the Resurgent's ability to support herself in atmosphere, given the weight of the interdictor generators installed on her aft wings. There'd been a lot of hemming and hawing over it but it'd eventually been declared fine, so long as we didn't expect to do a lot of fancy maneuvering with the extra weight.

One particularly foul mouthed engineer had probably said it best;

"She's got a fat ass now but she's still a hardworking girl at heart. She'll do fine."

It'd all worked out and we immediately set ourselves to work. Since the destruction of the star destroyer, we'd been bombarding the planet with our sensors and transmissions for anyone who can hear us to identify themselves or signal us in some way. We had no idea how bad the situation was on the ground but we knew that reliable comms weren't a guarantee. So, we'd also called in the rest of the Alliance ships and scanned the planet for any signs of still working technology and complex lifeforms.

Putting the Resurgent in atmosphere was meant to not only assist in recovering people from the surface, but also to help penetrate the clouds and debris with sensors. In that way, the Resurgent would be operating as the primary coordinator for this operation as the crew fed data to the other ships and shuttles and helped pinpoint where everyone needed to go to be of the most use. Just about all of the efforts would be focused on the inland areas. Given the tidal disruptions caused by the falling debris and the effects the lack of a moon was having on the typical ebb and flow of the oceans, nobody really expected many, if any, of the coastal settlements to still be intact or habitable.

For our part, we had a dozen LAAT dropships and one assault shuttle ferrying people and supplies back and forth as quickly as we could. Many of those trips would be back into orbit as we would have to distribute resources as well as we could, given our limited carrying capacity. Even a ship as large as the Resurgent could only hold so many people, even with all the empty spaces we had aboard.

Leia was here too and aboard the Resurgent helping coordinate efforts. She'd insisted on it and I hadn't even thought to deny her once we began rescue operations. She had far more experience in this area than just about anyone else and was famous for her relief missions while working for the Imperial Senate. Her expertise was a great boon to our efforts and we were glad to have her at the helm.

While all of this was going on, I selected a half dozen pilots to join me in tracking down the coordinates Leia had provided us with. She wished us luck and asked us to simply hurry. We departed quickly in X-wings. We might've taken one of the shuttles but decided against it. Their carrying capacity would be needed to help ferry anyone they found and we could make do with just our fighters.

Flying low, we spoke little as we surveyed the devastated landscape around us. My eyes kept going back to a fiery mountain that dominated the horizon as all I could think about was how there was somehow still smoke and fire coming off of it, even though it seemed to have escaped the worst of the falling moon debris. At least it still looked intact. I knew the forests could regrow someday after a fire but I had no idea how one might go about repairing a mountain.

Soon enough, we landed at the coordinates and found a clear spot to land. It was probably once a meadow of some sort but was now just a large patch of dead grass beside a forest that didn't look any healthier.

"You should sit tight here with the ship, Artoo," I advised. "This ground doesn't look like it'll really do you any favors here."

Artoo blew a raspberry at my suggestion.

"We're going to be moving through woodland terrain," I pointed out. "Wouldn't you rather wait until we find something for you to help with before we drag you through all that out there?"

He whistled a grudging agreement with me but told me I'd better call him when I find something for him to do.

"I will, pal," I assured him. "I will."

Climbing out of our fighters, the other pilots circled up and awaited further instruction. I was the last to land, so the other five were waiting for me as my boots hit the dusty ground.

I had to suppress a shudder as I did so.

Being attuned to the Force like I was made planets like this uncomfortable or even dangerous to be in proximity to. Like Telos, Taris, or even dreaded Malachor V in the days of Revan, worlds like this exuded death in abundance. The death of not just the people but the animals and the plants was like a thick smoke that threatened to choke me if I inhaled too much of it. It was barely noticeable in orbit but here, standing on the surface, it was like having a thick, wet, woolen blanket thrown over me.

Fortunately, my presence here wasn't going to put me in too much danger so far as I could tell. During our approach, I was sampling the world and probing its Force presence. It was almost nauseating to feel the dying world in such a way. Different from planets that simply had sparse biospheres like Tattooine or lumps of rock found drifting in space, Alderaan was a once thriving planet that had been killed by sapient action. Acts like that, ones that resulted in sudden mass destruction and death, they left a very different impression on the Force.

Alderaan was a dying world. And now, I was feeling it acutely.

While standing on the surface was akin to breathing in smoke from a campfire, it should be fine if I kept my presence down here brief and avoided using the Force too much. My best option was to simply minimize my impression in the Force as much as possible and avoid drawing on it too much. I didn't want to think what spending days or weeks standing on the surface of this planet might be like and I had no intention of finding out. After a few hours down here, I intended to get back to my quarters and recuperate by meditating in what life I could focus on, like my crew or the crews of the other ships. After that, it'd be right back to work.

"We got any idea what we're looking for here, sir?" one of the pilots asked me.

Grateful for something else to focus on, I turned to answer the question.

"Some kind of bunker or a shelter, we think," I told him. "That's still all we've got to work on. Whatever it is, we need to comb the area. It's somewhere close and we've gotta find it quick if we're to get back to helping look for survivors. Everyone got their flightbags close?"

My fellow pilots all nodded and hefted their own bags to show that they did. I unzipped the small flightbag I'd brought with me and began pulling items out.

"Everyone make sure you keep your air masks close," I reminded them, affixing my own to the front of my orange flightsuit. "Meteorological analysis shows that dust storms and harsh winds are a possibility. If you feel like you're struggling at all, even with the mask, stop and signal your partner. We don't need anyone ending up a casualty out here. We'll fan out with our search and use this landing zone as our starting point. Five minute check-ins. Everyone ready?"

There were acknowledgements from everyone as they all double checked their own masks and bags.

"Then let's get to it," I ordered. "Hobbie, you're with me."

Derek "Hobbie" Klivian nodded and jogged over to my side as we headed off for the woods. I'd met Hobbie originally when Biggs had introduced him to me as a prospective member of the new squadron we were forming. While his name was familiar to me at first, it took a little more interaction with him and a few pointed questions to remember who he was. While not exactly a 'galaxy changing' individual, he was a good man and an excellent pilot. He had proved himself a good man but also as quite a skeptic. I wonder at the exact circumstances that brought him and someone bright and earnest like Biggs Darklighter together as friends and allies, since I only knew a little about those events. Someday, I'd have to ask them for the full story.

"You think we're gonna find what we're looking for in this, commander?" Hobbie asked.

'And right on cue...'

"We know there's something out here to find," I pointed out. "That's half the work right there. Now, we just gotta comb the area until we find it."

"Shame. I left my hygiene kit aboard the carrier. Although, I think this area could benefit more from a shower than a combing right now."

Cynic he might be, Hobbie also had a dry wit that I was learning to appreciate. I suppressed a snort of laughter at the unintentional Spaceballs reference his words reminded me of. Apparently, I wasn't entirely successful since he turned to give me a look a moment later.

"Was it that funny?" Hobbie asked.

"No, not even close," I deflected. "You wouldn't get it. Just watch your step and... be careful if you go picking through anything."

Hobbie shrugged as he stepped over a fallen tree in his path. Not that it was much of an improvement when he and I were having to step over fallen branches fairly frequently. While this area seems to have avoided any direct impacts or especially damaging seismic activity, it did appear that the area had been hit by at least the severe winds brought about by other impacts. Many trees were knocked into one another and others were missing large branches, which now littered the forest floor. There was no sign of animal life anywhere but I was still keeping my lightsaber and blaster close. In a deadly environment like this, even normally docile beasts could be dangerous due to hunger and/or fear. That, and there was no telling what kind of reception we might get from survivors.

We spent nearly half an hour searching the area when Hobbie called over to me.

"I think we got something over here!"

Turning to my right, I saw Hobbie poking around a fallen tree. He kicked at the tree several times until I realized that instead of the sound of snapping wood or even the dull thud of rock, there was a definite metallic ringing sound as his boot struck something buried under the thicket.

"Everyone, rally up on my beacon," I ordered over the comlink. "Looks like we found something."

I looked at the small, flashing green light on my wrist to see that my comm beacon was still active. Using their handheld scanners, the others should be able to find me easily.

Moving over to where Hobbie was breaking some of the larger branches, I leaned in to get a better look at whatever it was he had found. Beneath several thick logs and coated in a fine layer of dirt and foliage, there was definitely a large metallic object of some sort. It looked about twice as wide around as a TIE fighter cockpit and seemed weather worn, if still intact.

Gesturing Hobbie back a moment later, I asked him to let me handle this part.

"No offense, Hobbie," I told him, flexing my fingers in preparation. "But I think we'll all appreciate it if I speed things up for us just a bit."

Not waiting for a reply, I spread my legs a bit more apart and set them firmly into the ground. I brought my arms close to my sides with my forearms still extended ninety degrees in front of me while I took a slow, deep breath. I was careful not to inhale too much just in case I coughed on the harsher air but the stance helped me focus for this next part.

Tapping into the Force more fully than I had since landing, I narrowed my field of focus to what was right in front of me. Even then, I still felt the choking, dying sensation all around me and nearly broke my focus as I suddenly wanted nothing more than to break into hacking coughs and shy away from my connection to the Force.

Determined, I kept up the connection and did my best to ignore the almost choking distraction as I snapped my gaze to the fallen tree and dead foliage covering the metal object. Looking only at what I was trying to move helped a lot to maintain my focus.

Slowly at first, then more quickly, the smaller bits of dead plant matter began to shudder and rise into the air. First clumps of dirt, then leaves, then branches until finally, the heavy fallen tree itself rose off the metal covering and rose nearly two meters into the air.

Neither wanting or needing to keep up this display of power for long, I quickly cast aside the deleterious materials by just pushing them carelessly towards an empty patch of dead forest. The various objects all fell to the forest floor with a loud crunching noise before settling into their new resting place.

Letting out a great exhale of breath, I let my arms drop to my sides as I relaxed my tense muscles. I kept my breathing controlled so I didn't attempt to gulp in air after the effort. In small, steady quantities, the air was fine for now. If I started inhaling it quickly, I'd likely start hacking and coughing on the dust in the air.

Turning around, I saw the wide-eyed look Hobbie was giving me. Not surprising, since I usually didn't display my powers this openly in front of my fellow pilots like I just had. I wasn't really trying to hide what I could do but I rarely found myself lifting heavy objects aboard the Resurgent when we had equipment for such things and usually personnel already handling it.

"You still with me here, Hobbie?" I asked, my breathing returned to normal.

"Y-yeah," he answered. "Just... processing, boss."

"If you say so," I said, shrugging and trying to act casual about the supernatural display I'd just put on. Behind him, I saw the first pair of pilots finally arriving after having followed my homing signal.

"You, uh, do that often?" he asked next. "Lift stuff with your mind, I mean?"

"Only when I'm too lazy to get out of my chair and get something," I answered, leaning over to take a closer look at the metal object I'd uncovered. "What? Did you think I spent all that time meditating because I wanted an excuse to nap?"

"Well..." Hobbie shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to another.

"You know, I should really consider working out on the flight deck more so the rest of you can see me practicing from time to time," I thought aloud, looking for some sign of an access panel. This was definitely some kind of hatch...

I turned my head once again and shot the sheepish looking pilot one more look.

"And for the record," I continued. "I can nap whenever I like. Commander's privilege."

"Fair enough."

I finished a look around the object and didn't discover much. The object might've been a structure with how it seemed to go deep into the ground and didn't sit at an angle like it had just been dropped here. It clearly had a hatch of some sort but I couldn't locate an access panel anywhere or any sort of opening. Was it a bunker of some kind? Was I supposed to knock Well, there's always the direct way but I'd rather not wreck anything that might be important.

I stretched my leg out and pulled myself up stand atop of this thing. I started looking at the cover for anything that might be helpful and that I couldn't see from the sides. Around the base, Hobbie and the others were examining it and discussing what this might be.

Kicking aside some loose dirt that I hadn't moved with the rest of the debris, I noticed something. There was an indent in the center of the cover. Poking at it for a moment, I scooped out a perfectly shaped half sphere in the metal with a handle stretching across it at the top.

Reaching inside, I grasped the short metal bar and tried puling on it. It gave way a little under my strength but I also noticed how it seemed to turn slightly as well. Following my intuition, I pulled and twisted the handle as a cylinder rose out of the metal covering, rising still as I kept puling. Eventually, I was standing upright and the handle didn't stop coming up until it was level with my waist and no longer turning either.

There was a loud groan and a clacking noise beneath my feet.

Letting go of the handle, I quickly got off of the object as the top of it began to part and then retract inwards into itself. I got the eerie feeling like I was watching the cover coming off of a sarcophagus as there was a rush of cool air coming out of the object, smelling of fresh dirt and metal. Whatever had been inside, it was clearly pressurized until just a moment ago.

Approaching the now opened object, the other pilots and I all saw a great, wide shaft extending downwards into utter darkness. There was no sign of any steps or ladders leading downward, providing an even more ominous feeling as it seemed we were looking into some sort of abyss.

"Okay," one of the other pilots, I wasn't sure who, said behind me. "Who want's to go into the dark, creepy bunker first?"

"Probably a job for the guy with the laser sword," I replied, fishing a glow rod out of my pack and activating it.

Like it's Earth counterpart, the chemical filled stick would emit a powerful green glow when the inner tube was snapped and mixed the chemicals inside of the otherwise flexible rod. Fortunately for me in this case, these versions were much more advanced and powerful than one might first expect and were capable of lasting for more than a standard day.

I dropped the glow rod down the shaft without ceremony and watched it fall. The other pilots and I all craned our necks over the edge to get a better look as it fell. The rod fell for about forty meters before coming to a stop on a plain, metallic floor of some kind. The light it was casting gave off just enough illumination from this far up that I could see it opened up into a wider chamber at the bottom of the shaft.

"Not too far," I muttered aloud.

Looking around the sides of the shaft, I frowned as I saw that there was no ladder or any sign of how I was supposed to get down there. I looked around to see if there was anywhere good to tie off a rope to help climb down with. I wasn't too keen on the idea of trying to fasten a line into this ground or into the nearby dead trees or something. Mentally shrugging, I decided that the direct route was probably good enough in this case.

I turned back to the others and spoke.

"I can go on ahead," I told them. "If anything happens or if you lose contact with me, signal for help to come in and get me. Last thing we need is all of us trapped down there with nobody knowing what's going on."

"Sir, you really shouldn't go alone," one of the pilots said. "One or two of us should rappel down there with you. We can just use the same rope."

"That's a decent idea," I replied. "I'll go ahead while one of you sets up a rope and stands by in case you lose contact with me or I call for help."

Without waiting to hear any more objections, I put my hands on the lip of the shaft's opening and vaulted over it...

...leaving nothing to stop me from falling feet first towards the bottom.

In another universe, I'd have broken both of my legs at a minimum while doing this. Might've even killed myself. Thankfully, the fall only elicited a quick surge of adrenaline from me as my instincts responded to the apparent danger while I opened myself to the Force again, just a bit.

I grunted as I impacted the bottom of the shaft, bending my knees to help absorb the impact but still feeling my legs shake a bit from the force of it.

'Need to practice my landings a bit more. Do that enough times and maybe I'll be looking at replacement prosthetic legs,' I thought, shaking off the weird feeling. 'Like father, like son at that point. At least I didn't go for the superhero landing...'

Standing upright, I saw that I had limited options for moving in further. Apart from this area at the bottom of the shaft, there was a tunnel of approximately similar dimensions heading off straight ahead of me.

Looking up into the shaft, I cast a jaunty wave at the dumbstruck looking pilots staring down at me.

"I'll check in regularly over comms," I spoke into my own comm device instead of shouting up to them. "Go ahead and get that rope set up in case you need to come in after me.

After receiving their acknowledgement, I took out another glow rod from my belt and activated it. Giving it a few customary shakes to speed up activation of its glowing chemical properties a bit, I ventured forward into the tunnel.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

I had walked for perhaps another fifty meters when I came upon a large door at the end of the tunnel. It was as large as a garage door but looked like it wouldn't have been out of place in front of a bank vault or a munitions locker.

Just as I started looking for a panel of some sort, I was interrupted by some lights flickering on above me and by a voice.

"Unauthorized entry," an artificial voice spoke. "Please state your name and intentions."

Freezing in place, I looked up and saw that the voice had come from a speaker mounted onto the wall.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," I introduced myself. "I'm here on behalf of Leia Organa. I'm a part of a relief force come to rescue survivors."

"One moment..."

I was left standing there for almost a full minute before the doors suddenly opened. Hydraulics hissed and I heard metal groaning and large locking devices turn as I stepped back from the door. There was silence for a moment before the harsh sound of metal on metal filled the hallway. It echoed, grinding as I winced at the harsh sound.

Nonetheless, I was satisfied to see the door part open, showing just how thick it was. The locking mechanisms within it were massive and clearly meant to withstand serious damage. As the first gap appeared on the other side, there was a strong and noticeable gust of wind that took me by surprise. It seemed like whatever was behind this door, it was a pressurized and sealed environment.

'Someone went to a lot of effort to keep this place protected from the outside,' I thought.

At last, the door finished parting and revealed a rather odd looking protocol droid walking out from the interior. At least, I assumed it was a protocol droid. It was a plain and unpainted grey metal with an extra set of arms at its side. It had a bulbous head design with a triangular shape and sensors in place of eyes, reminding me of the head of an insect. On its torso was painted the designation CT-KR1 in white lettering.

Although not especially threatening, I had a suspicion that there were a number of measures this droid and/or facility could have that might make life difficult for me if I did or said something it didn't like. No way a place this well built didn't have more than one way of protection.

"Greetings," the droid stated. "This unit is standing by to assist. How may I serve?"

The droid spoke with a highly mechanical, if polite voice. I couldn't tell if it had been designed to interact with a specific race or was meant to sound like that, but I got the impression of a droid that wasn't primarily designed to interact with people.

"What is this place?" I asked, cutting right to the chase.

"This facility has been commissioned by the Alderaanian royal family in the event of a disaster befalls the planet," the droid explained. "Due to increased seismic activity and complete loss of contact with the outside world, lockdown protocols have been initiated and this facility has been in standby mode. Do you wish access to the facility?"

"This is a shelter?" I asked instead. "How many people are here?"

"None."

"None?" I repeated, confused. "The facility was empty when the lockdown engaged?"

"Negative," CT-KR1 replied patiently. "Biological samples such as seeds, plants, animal genetic material have been preserved here by this unit and other caretaker droids. Cultural items or recreations of them have also been stored here so that future generations may also witness and learn from them. In addition, the databanks are updated on a weekly basis to include updates on all available Alderaanian media and the latest current events."

I was silent as I processed that answer.

Not a shelter at all, it would seem. This place was a backup archive. A storage unit for Alderaanian art, culture, and a catalog of native plant and animal life. Was this a recent construction? Did the warning I delivered years ago spur the creation of this place? Then again, it's not entirely impossible for this place to have always existed. If Alderaan had been blasted apart by the Death Star, even the most secure bunker in existence couldn't survive that level of destruction.

"When was this facility constructed?" I asked next.

"I am sorry," CT-KR1 replied. "But this unit does not posses that information. This unit and all associated models are memory wiped on a bi-monthly basis in order to better comply with long-term storage protocols. Do you have another inquiry with which I may assist in answering?"

"Yes," I continued. "Do I have access to this facility?"

"Access is granted to any lifeform who makes entry without hostile intentions," CT-KR1 answered. "Recovery and distribution of samples into safe hands takes priority in the event of lockdown protocols being initiated. In the event of harm being inflicted upon storage units by outside interference, defensive measures exist within this facility to prevent such destruction."

'That doesn't sound like it'd stop someone from carrying stuff out of here and destroying it elsewhere,' I noted. 'Then again, ensuring all this survives an apocalypse is enough to worry about. Anyone stumbling across this place a decade or century after the planet got wrecked likely wouldn't be looking just to destroy it all. At that point, anyone willing to preserve what's in here is probably good enough. Even if it all ended up in an Imperial lab or storage somewhere, that's still better than nothing.'

"I wish to take these samples elsewhere for safekeeping," I informed the droid. "Will I be allowed to do so?"

There was a pause as the droid stared at me.

"Removal of items is permitted under established protocol," it said at last. "Due to atmospheric readings and prior activation of lockdown protocols, items may now be claimed from the vault to ensure survival of Alderaanian flora, fauna, and culture. However, it is recommended that caretaker units are permitted to accompany storage units to ensure proper storage and handling of items."

I sighed, relieved at that response.

"Don't worry," I said next. "We'll be needing all the help we can get to carry stuff out of here. Speaking of, where is it all?"

"Would you like to be shown to the main vault?"

"Yes. Please show me," I requested.

With a sweeping gesture with two of its arms, the droid gestured for me to follow as it went back through the door it had arrived through. I followed behind it, quickly sending an update via my communicator as I wasn't sure if my transmissions would make it out if I ventured much deeper into this facility.

Stepping quickly after the droid, I saw that we didn't have to go far to reach a dimly lit chamber that lay just beyond a guard rail. Stepping up to the railing, I finally saw the facility itself and felt my eyes widen in amazement as I let out a soft whistle of appreciation at what I beheld.

The chamber was as big as a football field. Long rows of shelving stretched onwards from below me and all the way to the back wall. Identical containers, stacked neatly and side by side along the shelving filled them. I saw at least a half dozen other caretaker droids, similar to CT-KR1 but bearing different tools and designations on their chassis, all wandering up and down the aisles as they scanned and took readings from the storage units. Off to one side, I saw a number of doorways, presumably leading to attached chambers that could have been holding any number or type of items requiring special storage. Over all of this, massive beams of what looked like reinforced concrete and durasteel crossed in an overlapping pattern, both supporting and protecting this place from anything short of concentrated orbital bombardment.

"I'm going to need some help getting all of this out of here," I muttered, turning my head as I looked around.

Seeing the series of simple stairs and ladders leading down to the main floor, I was reminded by the large drop I took to get down here. While I didn't have much of a problem jumping back out on my own, I didn't like the idea of having to get all of this stuff out of here myself or bring in complicated lifting equipment.

"How do I get back up to the surface?" I asked.

"The lift is operable and capable of carrying you to the surface, Master Skywalker," CT-KR1 provided helpfully.

"Show me."

After activating the lift, which I had somehow managed to completely miss from the surface and as I dropped down the shaft, I had two of the pilots head back to the X-wings to get Artoo and to inform the task force of our status. Leia would want to know what we had found as soon as possible. I also told them to call up some more transports, as soon as we could get them out here.

"There really that much down there, boss?" Hobbie asked me.

"If anything, there's more than I described," I told him honestly, remembering the chamber's size and the attached doors. "And we're taking all of it. It's why I told the others to call in a transport with some more hands to get this moving. We're gonna need a lot of lift capacity and some more bodies down here to do it. In the meantime, I'm gonna get Artoo down here and see what it'll take to pull any data from down there that we may need."

There was a round of acknowledgements and we set about our work. I didn't intend to leave so much as a single dataslate or packet of seeds down here by the time we were done.

~Skywalker: Resurgent~

One Week Later...

We'd stayed as long as we could but we'd never deluded ourselves into thinking it'd be for good. An Imperial ship had jumped into the system and had immediately run when it saw that we were here. Not even bothering to fight, they'd doubtless decided to embrace the better part of valor and muster reinforcements at the nearest Imperial base.

Still, we'd stayed for another day.

We'd picked up over three hundred thousand survivors. It was a paltry number compared to the billions that had originally called this planet home but it was something. Transports had run with their holds and life support systems taxed to the maximum to get people away and to safe planets. But there were still more. Too many to carry away, too far to reach, and too little time to help all of the ones we simply didn't have the lift capacity for. Still, we prioritized the worse cases and those living in the most unstable areas. We took everyone we could find but for those who we couldn't take with us, we left survival equipment and anything we could spare from our ships for them to find. It wasn't perfect and it wasn't much but we hoped to be able to do more later.

We also took the time to clear out the bunker facility entirely. Leia had come herself and had been nearly overcome with relief in finding the cache of Alderaanian culture stored away. I'd worried that she would be disappointed at not finding her parents but she was far more preoccupied with what we did find than with what we didn't. Her resolve and strength she showed in the face of seeing her home and people like this was incredible to behold. She was a pillar of strength for all of the refugees we picked up and for her fellow rebels who had been worked to exhaustion and shaken by the things they'd seen.

It wasn't until the last possible minute that we'd picked up the last of our personnel and packed everything up. There'd been some grumbling in the ranks that we should've made a stand here and fought anyone who tried to move us but logic had gotten through to even the most belligerent in the end. We expected at least six ISDs inbound and more than three times that number in escorts. Loaded with refugees, we couldn't hope to win that fight. Even if we had a kick-ass plan, we'd be risking too much.

We got our timing down to the wire. Seven star destroyers and some twenty-five smaller vessels came out of hyperspace while we were more than halfway to our own exit point. They couldn't hope to catch us but they certainly got a good look at some of our ships as we flew away. I imagined shaking fists and angry epitaphs being spoken by their officers and crews, while I wondered if any of them gave thought to the devastated planet between us. If they did, I doubted they were going to do anything about it.

Right up until we finally made the jump into hyperspace, we kept transmitting. It was a promise to anyone left on Alderaan with the ability to hear us as well as one for the Imperial ships that would certainly intercept our message as we were broadcasting across all frequencies. It was made in several variations but the promise was always the same;

"We'll be back."

AN: I know I said we'd be getting to more fun and lighthearted stuff last time and disaster relief is kinda far from that. These ideas just couldn't be ignored once I'd thought of them! Next time will be more lighthearted and fun, I promise!

I've chatted a bit with some of you about my OCs and the concern that I may overuse them at some point. Rest assured that I'll happily fill necessary roles with familiar characters whenever feasible. However, my options are rather limited in some cases.

I wanted to give you guys an idea of how supply raids might go with a ship like the Resurgent doing the grocery shopping. Getting data on when a ship departs and pulling it out of hyperspace en route is a safe and effective way of acquiring whatever the Alliance needs while depriving it from the Empire. We also got our first demonstration of how a battle with the Resurgent might go against a single opponent in her weight class.

Some folks might be asking why a single ISD was sitting alone, but that's something the Empire did all too often. Confident in the power they had, the Empire had only so many ISDs and far too many planets to maintain order on. We saw only one ISD operating when Vader was chasing Leia's ship at the beginning of Episode IV. Even Vader's infamous Death Squadron, awed and feared for it's collective might, only usually had a dozen star destroyers attached to it at any one time. Vader could, as commander of the Empire's armed forces, command and reassign any number of ships he liked. However, even chasing the Rebel Alliance didn't mean he could just ignore defensive commitments elsewhere.

For some real world context, the US Navy is the biggest in the world. They have numerous ships, but also an equal number of defensive commitments around the world that require that many ships, if not all of them at once. While ships are assigned to a carrier group or to a special task group, they aren't always together. That's because they can accomplish more by splitting up their fleets to handle a wider area. Having one ship stand picket over Alderaan makes sense and making it an ISD seems logical when there were already those three originally detached from escorting the Death Star just hanging around.

It also seems like just as much, if not more so, of a terror tactic Palpatine would approve of to still have a ship blocking aid from reaching Alderaan. Instead of dying quickly, whoever is left will, at best, scratch out a miserable existence in an apocalyptic wasteland. There's more than one way to instill terror into a population and displays of brute power aren't always the scariest.

I hope that makes sense and helps clear up any confusion some of you may have had.

The idea for the vault is a ripoff of the Svalbard Global Seed Vault. For those of you who don't know about it, I suggest you look it up. It's an interesting project and one of many initiatives to preserve the knowledge and resources humanity has in the event of disaster.

To be honest, I should've probably split this into two chapters. It took so long to knock out with everything going on but I was so close to done by the time I finished it, I just decided it wasn't worth the effort by that point.

So, with this COVID stuff loosening up, my class schedule has doubled until the end of summer. Nonetheless, I am still committed to bringing you guys quality writing. I have many, many chapters planned as well as snippets and outlines written for this story. I have no intention of abandoning it any time soon.

Finally, I hope everyone is staying safe out there. Whole lotta craziness going on in the world and I just want to encourage everyone to make smart decisions and remember to be good to themselves and one another.

Someone recommended I set up an account on a fundraising site like . Apparently, some folks are interested in donating to help support my writing. Frankly, I think that'd be awesome if people actually did that. If I actually go through with it, I'll post the information on my page and/or the next chapter. Nobody's obligated to give me money for this as I'm happy to do it for free, but I'm not against accepting generosity from others either if that's what people want.

Until next time!