Star Wars belongs to Lucasfilm Ltd., itself property of The Walt Disney Company. I make no lucrative nor commercial use of my writings in relationship with the Star Wars license.

With a sigh, Luke ran a hand on his face. He stared blankly at the report in front of him describing the geography of Carosi XII and its atmosphere conditions.

Their target was planted on the slope of a tall mount in the north section of the Eurae montains, a range of ice-covered volcanoes. Most of them were extinct or dormant, but a few remained in activity, especially in the south-western part of the planet. It was what made the capital, Newlife Point, well known for its naturally hot springs. The setting of the mountain on which the medcenter stood made any ground assault near impossible. Snow and ice covered the mountain, and the glacier ran down all the way to the valley before continuing to the North, cutting access to the building by its Eastern side. When they had tried it, Rebel firepower had repelled them easily, secure in their stronghold that had once been a place of healing.

"That's a well-defended and strategically-placed medcentre," had joked Backstabber when they had first gone over the mission.

There had been a few snickers before the discussion came back to their flight plan, which they'd been finalising for six hours. From the different ways to get to the shield generators, the paths of escape and attack, and the flight conditions, there had been a lot of work. At last they were wrapping it up, and Luke was straining to keep focused.

Finally Mauler brought it to a close.

"We have a little over eleven hours before taking off," he said. "I want you down in the hangar ready to do a last run-through of the plan at 0030. Until then, take your rest and make sure you are in peak shape for the assault. Dismissed."

Luke let out a relieved sigh as they exited the meeting room, relishing the cooler air of the corridor. He understood the necessity of these tedious meetings, but it didn't make them any less tiring. Everything they had discussed was spinning in his mind without any order. He he felt as though his head was going to explode.

A hand setting on his shoulder tore him from his musings. He slowed down, letting other pass him by as he looked questioningly at Chaser.

"I need to talk to you," his wingmate said, watching the rest of the squadron walk back to their quarters.

"I'm listening," Luke frowned. Usually what Chaser said, anybody could hear. It was uncharacteristic for him to take someone to the side like this.

The pilot sighed, which confused Luke even more. This was definitely unusual.

"It's about what you told me the other time," Chaser began, his brown eyes staring right into Luke's. "About the Rebels being human and not being in battle. From now on, you are in battle. This is the enemy and nothing else. You get that?"

"Of course I do," Luke said. "Don't think I don't know what I signed up for. I know what must be done."

"No you don't," Chaser retorted, and his briskness surprised the younger pilot. "You have no idea what you signed up for because nobody does before their first battle. When you come back from this you won't be the same. You'll be shaken. You'll have seen things you'll wish you never had. And that's only if you come back at all. So you've got to put it into your head that the more of these guys die, the better, because the second you hesitate is the second you'll be dead."

Luke didn't answer immediately, the unexpected outburst jarring all his irritation away. The merciless words were unnerving all on their own, but it was the heat in them that threw Luke. For all his gruff tones and rough words, Chaser wasn't often found speaking that seriously.

"I appreciate your concern," he said, carefully choosing his words. "But I promise you I'm not going to freeze at the first casualty. I'm aware I don't have the same experience as you all, but I'm not coming into this completely blind. I'm in this because I want to win this war. That I'm not happy to kill people doesn't mean I won't do it."

"I hope your pretty reasoning still holds on when you actually have to pull the trigger," Chaser warned. "There's a reason for all this drilling you seem to have dumped about why the Rebels are so bad. It's not only because it's true; it's because you need it to survive."

Luke nodded, a cold knot tying itself in his stomach despite himself. He knew it was true. He wished he could see the Rebels as faceless monsters that did nothing but wreak havoc on the galaxy. He was determined to do his duty, no questions asked.

But it would have been so much easier hadn't he known his best friend was flying in an enemy cockpit, somewhere in the galaxy.

"I understand," Luke said, unable to think of any other fitting answer.

Chaser pursed his lips and tapped his shoulder, before turning around and going away. Luke stayed there a few more seconds, his eyes staring at nothing as he grappled with his conflicted thoughts. Then he shook his head and walked out as well.

They had a battle to prepare.

.

They were all ready in their black flight gear, shining helmets under their arms, five minutes before the time Mauler had given them. Despite the late hour, the sound of flight techs preparing their crafts filled the hangar. A little further, the other regular TIE/LN fighters , Wraith Squadron, and the TIE Bombers, Eta Squadron, were also getting ready for take-off. Nervous excitement made Luke's stomach flutter.

As Mauler's recapitulations reached their end, the huge form of Darth Vader approached them, cape flowing around him. His mechanical breath seemed weaker than usual in the middle of the noise, but his voice was as booming as ever.

"Sharp and swift minds and focus on your objective will be the key to success. Now head to your ships, and remember your orders."

The pilots then snapped in a salute.

"For the Empire!" one of them shouted.

The cry was taken back by all the fighters. Luke loudly joined the heady chorus, swept away by the power of their voices rising together.

Vader acknowledged them with a nod and walked away. They broke position and ran to their fighters, putting on their helmets, climbing down the ladders and closing the hatches above their heads. Luke turned the systems out, still running on the enthralling emotion that had taken them all. Nothing could resist their combined skill. They would win this battle.

Vader's TIE Advanced led them as they departed, two fighter squadrons surrounding the bombers. They approached the planet, descended closer and closer to the atmosphere, and left the sun behind them as they did so. When they were near the surface enough to catch a glance of the landscape, Luke gasped at the beauty of it.

It must have been the earliest hours of the morning on the planet. The blue sky was still coloured in pink where it touched the horizon, behind the snow-covered tops. Light and shadows were entwined on brown and white surfaces, sparkling where the sun brushed them. Descending on the slope of the highest mountain and into the valley was a river of turquoise ice, glistening and shining under the rays of dawn.

"Target on sight at 10 degrees. Move in attack position." Vader's voice ringing through the comm called his attention back to the mission.

They were getting very close to the mountain in question, which stood dark and ominous in Luke's eyes. The young man could make out a building of smooth and light-coloured shapes against the rocks. Smaller and rougher, built for utility rather than aesthetics and looking more recent, three devices stood around it. Their antennas displayed an invisible yet effective shield.

"Black Leader, Group Six coming in," an unknown voice said.

Vader acknowledged. A bomber, flanked by two pilots of Wraith squadron, left the group and dove towards the closest shield generator. They approached it from above, but a shot of laser fire forced them to break away. A fighter turned back and fired at it, but the magnetic shield absorbed his attack.

"All ships move closer to the ground," Vader ordered. "Their laser cannons are inside the shield. They cannot be disabled."

"Great," Vil muttered, "so it's hit and run time."

"Cut the chatter, Black Eleven."

They dove near the surface, zigzagging between the snow-covered rocks, and separated to approach the different targets. Luke flew next to Eta Three, together with two other groups. They aimed at another generator, a bit higher on the glacier.

"Group Two and Three, try to distract them. Group One, we're going in."

"Copy, Black Leader," Luke announced, echoing his flight mates.

They pulled up, immediately followed by the laser shots. Luke did a barrel roll then dove to avoid it, gritting his teeth, the beams too close to him to his taste.

"Eta Two, look out –"

"Blast! I'm HIAAAA – "

Luke swerved aside just in time to avoid the bomber. The ship spun a little further, then crashed down on the mountain in a bright explosion. Luke looked away from the blast, but it shook his ship anyway, short-lived flames licking at his hull.

"Attack missed. Coming at it again."

Luke took a shaky breath and pulled up again, ready to make a diversion. Laser beams followed him once more, and he teased them closer, too aware of the deadly dance he was leading. He held tight on his ship controls.

The comm was frantic, buzzing with transmissions of all nine groups of starships.

"Black Ten, on your right –"

"Eta Four coming in –"

"Break-Break, all fighters, I have incoming at 210 degrees!"

Luke threw a quick look at his beeping screen. An unidentified amount of enemy fighters were coming their way.

"Copy, Wraith Seven," Vader said. "Eta Squadron, keep your focus on the targets. All other fighters cover for them, ready to engage."

Luke pulled up and made careful circles around their target, like the other fighters. This was going to make things harder.

"Those are no Carosite ships, they're Headhunters," a Wraith pilot said. "Rebels!"

Luke's heart fell in his stomach.

"What? No way! They're coming from the south, not from the outpost!"

"Speculation is pointless," Vader hissed. "Stay on target!"

The young man tightened his knuckles on his controls, his blood drumming in his ears. He couldn't hesitate. He had to do this. I hope you're not with them, Biggs, he prayed.

There were about a dozen ships, which were coming at them full throttle. Luke had to dive down, barely flying under the belly of one of the Headhunters.

"Black Five, cover me," Dark Curse asked him as he flew right before him.

"Wilco, Six," he answered, placing himself on his tail.

It was like being back in the sims, following the others' movements while looking out for the enemy. But none of Luke's shots were hitting their target. He bit back a curse, kept firing and missing. His heart skipped a beat as a red beam darted a few feet away from him.

"Five, what's happening? Dark Curse asked. "You're flying erratically."

"I – I'll be all right in a minute," Luke answered.

He took another shot that missed his assailant again. Everything was a blur around him, ships exploding, cries ringing, frantic exchanges everywhere.

Chaser was right, he thought. I'm not cut out for this. I'm going to die.

Another shot Luke barely avoided. The Rebel came at him again, and this time he didn't have time to react. He gripped his controls tighter, expected heat and pain...

Dark Curse flew in and defeated his assailant. Luke breathed.

"Black Five, listen to me. Breathe. Pull out for a moment if you need, you're doing no good like that."

Luke nodded, forgetting the other pilot couldn't see him. He took a deep breath in, then out, trying to regain control of his emotions. Where was the half-aware state that preceded his best performances?

Another Headhunter arrived from behind. Luke barely had time to avoid it as it rushed towards Dark Curse. It teamed up with the other one, kept Dark Curse hanging between them. A shot missed him by a hair, and he only escaped with an expert twist.

"Dark Curse!" Luke cried out.

He gritted his teeth, charged at the Rebel ship, fired three shots at it and pulled up. The ship exploded in a thousand tiny shards. Luke exhaled.

"Thanks," Dark Curse said. He seized the moment to fire at the second enemy, who was destabilised by its partner's explosion. Soon it followed it into oblivion.

Luke didn't answer, his jaw set. He felt as if loosening any of his muscles would cause a breakdown. There was a constant sizzling in his head, and he struggled to keep it away from swallowing his thoughts.

"Target Two destroyed!" echoed over the comm, in a voice he thought he recognised as Qorl's.

A wave of relief overcame Luke, allowing him to relax the tiniest bit. Two left to go, then they would be clear.

"They're aiming for the bombers," Wraith Leader said. "All fighters cover for them!"

Luke made wide circles around his own target. This time he was careful not to fly too high, lest he attracted the outpost's fire. He imitated the other fighters from his group, and remained on the lookout for enemies. Eta Leader was making a run for the target. Vader's distinctive craft covered him on one side; Black Two watched the other.

A Headhunter emerged from behind the mountain and flew in their direction. It aimed directly for the ships attacking the generator.

"Group One, fighter incoming at 160, I'm taking it," Luke announced.

Barely hearing his comrades' acknowledgements, he rushed towards it and shot. He pushed it away from the others, evading its fire. The ship tried to evade him and get at him, but Luke twisted away from his range, careful to keep it on his scopes and in his field of vision. But the pilot was good. Luke had to deploy all his dexterity to keep away from him, and couldn't land a hit.

The sun was nearly getting to the top of the smallest mountain of the range now, illuminating whole sections of the glacier. Luke dove closer to the shining ice. He tried to lead his opponent to a place where the sun would blind it, and Luke could fire at it. But the Rebel didn't let him do so, and turned his trick against him by flying around him. Luke had to manoeuvre subtly to avoid facing the sun. The chased each other all the way up the glacier, like two birds on hunt, both prey and predator, soaring over the large crater on top of the mountain.

The Rebel dove in, and Luke followed it. The both of them flew about a foot away from the black rocks of the ground, that seemed covered in smoking ashes. Fast as they were going, it was a challenge to avoid crashing down. But Luke felt at ease. This was so similar to the wild races in the canyons of Tatooine he had enjoyed with –

Stay in the present, he berated himself. The enemy was in front of him, and he fired, a second too late. It missed and embedded itself into the crater rather than in his opponent's hull. A vague anxiety seized him. He thought he heard a rumble far down, but that was preposterous, over the screeching sound of engines.

He pulled up, seeking the open space of the skies again. As he had intended, the Rebel took the bait and rose behind him, pursuing him into the cloudless blue. No laser from the outpost came to disturb them. Luke had guessed they wouldn't risk firing on one of their own.

He tried to get closer to his target, wanting to take it down quickly, before other Rebels came to its aid. He trusted his reflexes and came full throttle at him, pushing it again and again. He could feel the other's surprise and fear as he got more and more unbalanced. In a last assault, Luke fired, and dove down before the enemy craft blew up on him.

Keeping his thoughts on a tight leash, trying not to remember the sound of the explosion nor the flash of terrified emotions that had darted through him, Luke rejoined with the others, that a couple Headhunters still prevented from taking down the generator.

"Black Five, cover for Eta Leader on the East, I'm taking the western part," Chaser told him.

Luke acknowledged and immediately rushed into one of the fighters, hoping to scare it away from its objective. It was tenacious, and tried by all means to get around Luke, who had trouble keeping it away.

"Black Four, I could use a bit of help," he called, his voice strained.

"Hold on a second –"

"Target One destroyed," Vader's voice rose.

Luke's relief was short-lived. Taking advantage of his moment of distraction, his opponent flew past him and rushed towards Eta Leader. Luke chased after him with a cry, but couldn't prevent it from diving in range of the bomber. The Rebel fired, and the bomber fell.

Luke winced, then rose and followed the remaining fighters to the last target, higher on the mountain, where the battle had gathered. None of what had preceded compared to the chaos the area now was. Both Imperial and Rebel fighters were littering the sky, trying to get close to the shield generator, either to destroy or protect. Luke mindlessly followed the others and concentrated on the orders firing through the comm. He shot at the enemies, but had no way to know if he had hit them. Explosions burst from everywhere, screams echoing between the officers' instructions.

"Target Three destroyed! The shield is down!"

The Rebel fighters must have noticed it as well, for they shifted towards the former medcenter in defence.

"All ships in formation," Vader ordered, "and proceed to main target!"

"Sir, Eta Squadron is down!"

Luke looked around, astounded and frightened, searching the shapes of bombers around him and finding none. Surely they couldn't have shot down the entire squadron?

"Then cannon fire will have to suffice," Vader answered, cold as ever. "Rearrange in standard attack pattern and move in!"

Luke tried to obey and rejoin his squadmates, but the Headhunter flying in the opposite direction prevented him from doing so. He was forced upwards all the way up to the mountain's crater, which was now abundantly smoking. He finally managed to hit his enemy, who took fire and spun down, before crashing on the fuming black rocks. A shiver ran through Luke's spine, as if a greater danger than that of the battle was threatening them.

Vader's fighter flew above his head, taken in his own dogfight.

"Black Five, keep firing inside the crater."

Luke frowned, unsure if he had heard well. This was a terrible idea, he was certain of that.

"Black Leader, this is Black Five, please say again?"

"Black Five, fire at the crater," Black Leader repeated.

Luke bit his lip, flying circles close above the ground, torn and hesitant. He wanted to protest, to refuse to do it, but this was his commanding officer. Doing so would earn him a reprimand at best, maybe even a court-martial, if he was unlucky...

At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to act. A sense of doom had taken hold of him, a certainty that disaster would strike and they should get out of it as soon as they could. It was ludicrous, he couldn't understand it, but the feeling was so strong he couldn't ignore it either.

"Black Five, this is an order," Vader said once more, now sounding very annoyed. "All fighters gather close to the top of the mountain!"

Sharpening his will, Luke forced himself to shoot, closing his eyes involuntarily as he did so. Again he heard the distant rumble again, and knew he hadn't imagined it, but he shut it out and continued to fight. Other Imperials were joining them, and Headhunters were charging. Luke knew this agitated swarm would disturb the restless force, or whatever it was, he could feel awakening as they fought. It was hard to see in the middle of the smoke.

A pair of dogfighting ships crashed on in the crater, eliciting a spurt of fumes from where they had fallen. Luke's ears tingled with a roar of unknown origin. Before he knew what was happening, he shot up in the sky, unable to stay there a second longer.

"All ships pull up, again, all ships pull up now!" Vader ordered.

All the remaining TIE fighters rose up, reaching the height Luke had already flown to not a second too soon.

Under them, the ground had begun to shake, and the rumble Luke had heard before made itself more present and real. Smoke and ashes rose from the mountain, or rather the volcano. There was so much of it so much it was obscuring the sky. The fighting had all but stopped: the fighters had either fled, or like Luke, been stunned by the fearful and awesome spectacle. Blinding red cracks were forming inside the crater. Magma began to burst out of it, pouring down the slopes of the mountain and melting ice and ground alike.

"The mission is over," Vader said over the comm, hardly audible above the thunder of the eruption. "Everyone head home."

They spent the short flight back in complete silence, shaken by this unexpected development. The eruption must have been developing for a while, thought Luke. He had felt it, he was certain he had, although how, he had no idea. The battle kept replaying before his eyes like a hectic mental film, but his eyes were unfocused, and his body seemed to be acting on its own.

Finally, they were back in Devastator's docking bay. It was the same as they had left it, calm and peaceful. The battle had not taken more than one hour, and they were still in the middle of night-cycle. But Luke found it looked different. He had trouble deciding if it was reality that had changed, or if his mind was playing tricks on him, struggling to process the recent events.

He climbed out of his TIE, his glove catching ash as it brushed against the hull. He took his helmet off, but didn't feel the relief that usually accompanied the action. His hands were trembling.

A bit further, the squadron had gathered, exhausted and covered in sweat. Luke absently counted them, afraid of knowing, but needing to. One person was lacking: he didn't take long to realise Backstabber was the one absent. They had to be grateful it was only one, he supposed, considering how many casualties there had been. He still had trouble to believe none of Eta Squadron had come back.

He hadn't realised Dark Curse had risen and come to him until his hand was on his shoulder. How had he not seen him coming?

"Come," he said. "We all need something strong to drink."

Luke nodded, afraid to speak, uncertain if he still could. The squadron was moving away towards their quarters, and Dark Curse patted him on the back as they followed, offering silent comfort.

They had nearly rejoined the others when Darth Vader's voice sounding in the hangar made him freeze.

"Ensign Lars!"

Detached from the knot in his abdomen and the hammering of his heart, Luke turned towards him. The Dark Lord had just exited his fighter, towering in the middle of the hangar. He looked angry, and Luke's stomach tightened.

"Follow me."

Luke froze, struck by the threat he could hear in these two commanding words. His whole body feeling cold, he forced himself to walk towards Vader, step by step. He kept his eyes straight on him, struggling not to look at the many glances he knew he had to be receiving.

The Dark Lord turned around and marched out of the hangar, Luke falling in step behind him.