Chapter: 1

From space, Tatooine was beautiful: a multicolored sphere of promise. "Cruelly disguised," some called it in bitter retrospect. Misleading.

Beneath the deceptive, atmospheric shroud lay a global landscape of endless sand and barren rock, bleached white from the desert planet's twin suns. It was a place where the heat of the day was unrelenting while the nights froze travelers' bones. Moisture was so sparse that it had to be coaxed from the air in order to adequately water crops and provide enough drinking water for the population to survive. Tightly built cities were hovels for criminal activity and the vast, sandy plains were left to wandering raiders and the desert creatures. As for the cloak the atmosphere provided, it was clear and breathable, beautiful to see if not to suffer.

Cruelly disguised. Misleading.

With stunning speed for atmospheric conditions, five A-Wing class starfighters hurtled through the cloudless sky. Air traffic was sparse above Tatooine; the majority of all incoming and departing vessels gravitated toward the major spaceports, as they were the most practical points of entry and departure. The presence of this portion of a fighter squadron 400 kilometers outside of Mos Eisely was relatively curious. But then the reason for their flight became apparent: eight wasp–like TIE Interceptors were hot in pursuit, falling from the sky and filling the gap between them and the smaller, wedge–shaped fighters with deadly flashes of green laser fire.

It was a chase, a deadly game of cat–and–mouse.

Down through the mesosphere and into the troposphere the pursuit continued. Kilometers passed in seconds. The bellies of the fighters scraped the dunes, raising clouds of sand from the rolling plains. Vivid emerald blasts arced toward the fleeing craft, undershooting their targets and melting sand into glass, but growing closer.

"We can't out–run them, Lead," Seth Joust said before he could stop himself.

A crackle of static preceded Commander Corsurge's clipped response. "That's very perceptive of you, Three."

Seth tightened his jaw involuntarily, closing down on an insubordinate retort. He felt his cheeks burning and silently praised the fact that he was invisible to his squadmates behind the simulator walls. But at the same time, he hated himself for being so easily humiliated because he knew he was better than that.

A twenty–two–year–old fighter jockey, he harbored no consideration for odds in any given scenario, and perhaps that was what made him, like most Corellians, such a remarkable pilot. Some might consider five on eight an unfair fight, possibly even the two other trainees flying as his wingmates, but Seth found himself writhing beneath the juvenile assignment.

And in his guts, he was righteously angry. Commander Corsurge doubted his abilities – despite the fact that Seth had proven his stature already. The Loose Hand scenario might not have been the easiest in the sim library per se, but it certainly didn't have the steepest difficulty curve either. The sim's computer banks threw any number of objectives or enemies at them, and while the average pilot might have found the task daunting, Seth did not. After all, TIE Interceptors were largely articles of the past, military media generally flown by allies in this time of war – if at all. Instead of pitting the trainees against something much more formidable, something like the Yuzzhan Vong coralskippers – which they would be meeting in combat – Commander Corsurge had the designated Green Squadron flying against brain–dead drones and aces from the Galactic Civil War, long since dead or retired.

There's no point in flying antiquated missions, Seth rationalized, not for the first time, wincing as verdant flashes of light burned away the dust beneath them. It's only teaching us how to fight computers.

Abruptly: "Your home planet's beautiful, Four."

That was Dano Ven, the squadron's executive officer. His voice was passive, unreadable, yet his small talk seemed out of place with laser fire exploding all around them.

"Thanks, Two," Vick Fleen, Green Four, responded without any real gratitude. The boy had been born in the wastes, according to the bio–logs, raised by his widower father in caves not far from Mos Eisely. Vick's A-Wing hung several meters behind Seth's, flying port–flank in the Greens' imprecise arrowhead formation.

"Great for a tan," the boy added a moment later.

"So I've heard," Dano replied mildly.

Their brief conversation ended with empty comm silence – interrupted by screaming laser fire, framed by the monotonous thrum of their engines.

Finally, Seth could hold his tongue no longer. "Orders, Lead?"

For a moment, the commander didn't say anything, and Seth thought that perhaps Corsurge wasn't going to answer. That would be just like him, too: keep them all in the dark until the last possible second, hurl no–win options at them, expect them to react like the amateurs they no longer were.

Well, maybe Fleen or the Wookiee will panic, Seth thought grimly, twisting his lips in mild aggravation. But not me.

Commander Corsurge spoke abruptly, silencing Seth's inner voice. "We'll use the ridge up ahead. It should be showing up on your sensors right about now."

There was an audible blip in his headset, and Seth saw the sketch of an uneven cliff face stretch across the A-Wing monitor. Out the viewport, the sandy plains cut off abruptly and a yawning canyon split the topography like a massive battle scar. Closer was the climbing rise of limestone and bedrock, a virtual wall sliding along the squadron's port side, blasted white from sandstorms and exposure to the sun. The wedge–shaped shadows of the snubfighters flickered across the dazzling surface, fleeing laserfire as it drilled smoking holes in the dunes.

"Throttles to full," Corsurge ordered. "Shift power from weapons to engines. Two?"

"At your disposal, Lead," Dano replied, with a hint of innocent sarcasm lightening his tone.

Always the wise–ass, Seth thought. In spite of his irritation, the corners of his mouth quirked upward.

"Take Four and Five with you and get the squints to follow you into the canyon. Three and I will cut around this rock formation and ambush them from behind. Make sure you start jamming their sensors once you break the ridge. Got all that?"

A double comm click indicated an affirmative. Captain Ven's A-Wing shot ahead, closely followed by Greens Four and Five – respectively Fleen and Farvebacca, the Wookiee.

"Two–Flight, away," Dano reported.

Corsurge's A-Wing leapt ahead. "On me, Three," he ordered.

As Seth closed formation with Corsurge, the commander triggered his cannons, tracing black char lines along the craggy rock sailing by to port. Soot erupted into a thick cloud as the sand superheated, instantly eclipsing both A-Wings from view. The dust would only hide them from the Interceptors' sensors for fifteen seconds at best, but by then, Seth and Corsurge would be on the other side of the ridge, shielded completely by the natural barrier. Assuming the squints (pilot slang for the Interceptors) were older models and lacked threat displays, they would be caught completely off–guard.

But sometimes the sim threw curve balls.

Seth cut his throttle and rolled the control stick to port, following Commander Corsurge's A-Wing as it cut a sharp arc through a narrow split in the rock walls. The whining pitch of the fighter's engines became a groan of protest at the tight maneuver as Seth and Corsurge blasted through the sandy crevice, throwing dirt and grit in all directions. Through the thick cloud of earth and dust, Seth could barely see the commander's A-Wing as it looped back around toward the unsuspecting TIE Interceptors, but the flickering blimp on his sensor board remained strong. Seconds later, they roared out of the cloud together.

Just ahead and below them now, the Interceptors continued on their flight path unawares, hawks closing for the kill. Further ahead, Dano, Fleen, and Farvebacca's A-Wings slid smoothly into gorge one–by–one, leading the unfriendlies on. The ambush would come from behind.

"Take point, Three," Corsurge ordered. His green–trimmed A-Wing lost some of its velocity as its pilot cut throttle. He sank back into Watcher position, several meters to Seth's aft, giving the younger pilot the go–ahead. "Sensors are clean from behind, but I'll keep tight in case you need cover fire."

"Obliged, Lead." Seth thumbed his lasers to dual–fire mode, linking both of the A-Wing's cannons to a simultaneous cycle.

Showtime, he thought.

The Interceptors blasted into the canyon, still in pursuit of the other A-Wings – now far ahead of them and invisible to the naked eye. Seconds later, Corsurge and Seth dropped their fighters into the gorge and followed, gaining on their unsuspecting quarries.

"Trench run," Corsurge grunted in Seth's headset. "Ever hear of the Death Star, Three?"

On either side of them, the walls of the canyon sped by as dizzying blurs of tan and grey. The rounded a bend at lightning speed, and there were the wasp–like Interceptors again, having decelerated to cruising speed and broken formation to safely navigate the narrow gorge. They were flying in single–file now, patiently waiting for their prey to make the next move.

There would only be a few seconds before the rearmost squint's peripheral sensors distinguished them from the cliff face. Seth dropped the aiming crosshairs onto the straggling Interceptor's engine housing and cut his throttle to match his target's velocity. Sensor feed splashed inessential details of the enemy fighter over the readout monitor: wingspan, capacity, weight, model number, weaponry, and freight – data retrieved in real–time. Seth glanced at the sensor board, noted the distance was twenty meters and closing, and waited for the tone that would indicate a laser lock.

"Fire at will," Corsurge said.

The squint's nose came up –

The Heads–Up–Display flashed red and he got the tone, so Seth pulled the trigger twice. Four scarlet bolts fired in rapid succession danced about the nimble squint's frame, melting away chunks of its hull. Seth snapped off another double–burst of fire, then had to kick the A-Wing into a climb to dodge the flaming wreckage of the Interceptor. He spared a glance out the rear viewport to glimpse the chunks of twisted metal careen off the canyon walls behind them.

"Three confirms a kill," he said, facing back forward. "Scratch one squint!"

"Good shooting, Three," Corsurge praised in an emotionless voice. "Cover me and I'll make a pass."

Seth killed some of his thrust and let the commander's A-Wing shoot overtop of his own. He watched the A-Wing's battle–scarred underbelly critically as Corsurge opened fire on the closest Interceptor, which had already begun the climb out of the canyon. The commander's lasers punctured the stabilizer supports on the larger fighter, leaving black char on the backside of the ball cockpit. The Interceptor shuddered under impact and lost some of its velocity, but managed to maintain its climb, trailing acrid smoke. The other squints careened off in different directions – rising up and out of the canyon, which was a virtual deathtrap.

Corsurge swore in a language foreign to Seth's ears. "I got a trifle sloppy here, Three. Form up on me and let's take these bastards out of action. Don't straggle!"

"Roger that, Lead," Seth grunted, fighting to keep frustration from bleeding into his words.

For a veteran like Corsurge, that shot should have been simple, like shooting mynocks in a barrel: another kill to paint on the side of his fighter. But just like this sham of a sim run, the commander's actions were just another calculating test.

Seth pushed aside his aggravation. No time for that now. Stick to the mission.

The commander fired for a second time, this time boring laser fire directly through the cockpit of the wounded Interceptor, slagging its twin ion engines in the process. Seth quickly raised a gloved hand to shield his eyes as the fighter blossomed into a swollen fireball, like a vibrant Mrlssi carnation. Shrapnel pinged off their shields as they knifed through the center of the nova and maintained their trajectory down the canyon.

Dano's voice broke through the comm, dripping with his accustomed sarcasm: "This is Green Two. Looks like plan 'A' failed, boss."

Over the comm and from somewhere above them, Seth could hear the hissing of laser fire; craning his neck, he glimpsed the other A-Wings flashing past above the canyon – headed in the opposite direction, already engaging the enemy fighters.

"Stay with me, Three." Corsurge pushed his fighter into a steep climb, which carried it up and out of the narrow canyon, and Seth immediately hauled back on the flight stick to follow. As they rose, he looked out the viewport, easily finding the other A-Wings – black specks against the golden sand.

"What's plan 'B', Lead?" Dano wanted to know.

"Just stay alive, Green Group." Corsurge's humor came clipped so severely that Seth wondered if it had been intended as such in the first place.

Dano snorted. "The usual eh?"

"No unnecessary chatter, Two."

"Apologies, Lead." The words lacked sincerity.

Corsurge and Seth rose together and wove in a tight u–turn as the remaining six Interceptors regrouped several hundred feet above them, then dove in formation. As they fell from the sky, the squints opened fire once more on the A-Wings.

"Scatter," Dano calmly ordered his Flight.

Fleen acknowledged with, "As ordered", and Farvebacca growled something that what was open for anyone's interpretation.

"Break, Three," Corsurge said in tandem, peeling his A-Wing away from Seth's as green fire filled the sky in front of them.

"Roger that, Lead."

The five Republic fighters parted ways, leading the Interceptors to also break formation in order to continue the pursuit.

Seth allowed one of the squints to drop onto his tail, teasing it to advance, then goosed his throttle forward. Laser fire lashed past his fighter as he rolled out prematurely, allowing the bolts to pass by on either side of the A-Wing, and then hauled back on the flightstick, pointing the nose of his snubfighter at the blinding suns. He heard the scream of ion engines behind him, knew the squint was following sluggishly, then flipped the fighter onto its side and cut his throttle.

The squint pilot couldn't compensate without the risk of tearing his fighter to pieces: the less–than–aerodynamic design of the solar panel wings created too much drag even in Tatooine's thin atmosphere. Caught off–guard, the squint quickly jerked his fighter into an awkward descent.

Startled, so he jumped.

But in the back of his mind, Seth knew that it was fake – that the simulator computer was just randomizing, forcing Seth to stay sharp. He dove after the squint and opened fire, spraying the air behind his target with crimson laser fire.

Dano's voice broke through the comm. "Got one."

Seth allowed himself a quick glance out of the rear viewport and glimpsed the captain's A-Wing knifing through the center of an expanding fireball. Fleen and Farvebacca had formed up on him and were once more flying in close formation. Their precision was almost professional.

Grinning, Seth returned his attention to his target, only to find that it had slipped off to his port side in the brief moment that he'd been distracted. It had now taken up the sleeper position just aft of Seth's fighter, slowing enough to drop back in on the A-Wing's tail –

Seth swore. The other pilot had cut his fighter's throttle and was taking advantage of the A-Wing's speed and allowing Seth gain the lead, waiting for just the right moment to pour green fire into the smaller snubfighter's engines. Lasers sizzled off his shields as the squint boosted its throttle and came up on his tail.

And you were trying to make a point.

Seth cursed quietly, fumbling with the controls. With his left hand he transferred deflector shield power from starboard side to rear, and with his right he chopped the control stick down and to the right.

But he had acted without thinking. Agile though it was, the A-Wing couldn't compensate for the turn while fighting the wind. The engines coughed, then stalled, throwing the fighter off–balance. Seth felt the world spinning as the A-Wing careened wildly in free–fall, spinning end over end above the dunes.

Friction could rip me apart –

He slammed the emergency restart switch and the engines roared back to life, plastering him to his seat. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision as he fought the increased gravity in the A-Wing and frantically attempted to regain control of the fighter. He heard voices in his ear – the Greens calling for him – but couldn't make out what they were saying.

Out the viewport, the ridge was rising ominously out of the sand – closer and closer. Numbers on the HUD scrolled down toward zero as the mountain of sand filled the viewport. Collision alarms blared in his earpiece –

Grinding his teeth, Seth grasped the flight stick in both hands and hauled back with all of his strength. The nose of his fighter came up and the cockpit was suddenly full of sky once more as the fighter rocketed into the pale blue heavens. Seth swore he could hear sand and rocks scraping the A-Wing's belly as it climbed, and then he was safely evening out his trajectory, a hundred meters or more above the cliff face.

His adversary, however, was not as fortunate. The squint, which had closely followed his descent, pouring laser fire down on him, couldn't pull up in time. Engines screaming, the Interceptor slammed into the bedrock and exploded upon impact, hurling earth in all directions.

Too close, Seth thought, running a quick diagnostic check of the fighter's engines and sublight systems. Everything checked out, although at some point in free–fall, the computer had reset the inertial dampener automatically in an attempt to keep the fighter pilot conscious.

"Nice maneuver, Three, but I'd suggest not trying again." Dano's tone was enough to kill the premature sense of victory blossoming in Seth's gut.

The younger pilot felt himself blushing again as he dialed back the compensator and settled back into the command couch. "Sorry, Two," he said into the headset, fighting to keep anger out of his voice. "I'll do better."

"Roger that. Just remember that next time w–"

Seth missed the continuation of Dano's admonition: another of the squints had singled him out and was diving, cannons singing. The TIE's lasers ate up the sand around the fighter, hissing angrily at the lack of more substantial prey.

Seth throttled back to full speed and rocketed out of the squint's line of fire. Laser fire chewed rock, but found no purchase on the nimble A-Wing's hull. Executing a sloppy loop–de–loop, Seth brought the fighter around to face the TIE. The interceptor shot directly for him, cannons still pumping.

The frown was crawling over his face without conscious effort. Either the computerized pilot rocketing toward him was a complete idiot, or he was really, really good. Nine out of ten times, a TIE of any class would not survive a head–to–head against a fully shielded A-Wing with a sturdier hull.

And speaking of shields…

Seth glanced at his monitor and saw that his shield percentage had decreased by fifteen percent under the squint's withering barrage. Transferring deflector strength from aft to fore, he settled into the collision vector, letting his thumb hover over the trigger.

He kept the fighter dancing, weaving and juking as the Interceptor stubbornly refused to break off its attack. Seth let the A-Wing climb several degrees as he thumbed a concussion missile into the launch tube, then painted the closing TIE's hull with the crosshairs. The moment the lock tone sounded, he hit the trigger and instantly pulled the A-Wing into a steep climb.

A single column of red hellfire erupted from the nose of his fighter and flashed across the sand, seeking its target without deviating. The Interceptor immediately broke into a roll to evade, but was barely halfway through the maneuver before the missile punched cleanly through it like a tin can. The fighter detonated with a satisfying boom, sending flaming debris in all directions.

Seth grinned in satisfaction, but the look vanished instantly. More laser fire was exploding to his starboard side, and there were green darts eating away at the exposed metal of his starboard fuselage. Blackened craters trailed smoke as Seth jinked the A-Wing to get out of the line of fire. Cursing himself for being so careless, he quickly evened his deflector shields to cover the entire body of the fighter –

Another alarm was blaring, indicating that the main power coupling had been damaged. With that crucial piece of his A-Wing nonfunctional, Seth knew it would be too much to hope to stay in the fight for much longer. He could already feel the fighter shuddering as he lost velocity.

"Sithspawn!" he swore. "Three has a tail."

With one hand he slammed a switch on the control panel to kill the alarm, and with the other, hauled the flight stick to port, simultaneously stomping on the rudder to roll the A-Wing over – so that the squint's next burst of fire sizzled nothing but open air.

Vick Fleen's voice in the headset: "Four is on the way, Three – hang in there!"

Seth fled before the Interceptor, still cursing himself as Vick closed in on his target. The dots on the sensor board corresponding to Fleen's A-Wing and the squint converged, and Seth glanced out the rear viewport as he heard the scream of laserfire. The TIE had already begun to roll out under the barrage, but not before Fleen's lasers chewed sizzling holes into its starboard solar panel. The larger craft shuddered, trailing smoke from the destroyed panel as its pilot fought the wind to climb above the barrage.

Fleen's distraction allowed Seth the moment he needed to recover. He let his foot ride the rudder lightly, slewing the fighter into a lazy curve as the squint broke its pursuit to deal with Fleen. Working quickly, Seth reduced his thrust by 20% and shut off the A-Wing's threat display in order to conserve as much power as possible – hopefully just enough to let him finish out the dogfight. The red warning light on the control panel told him the fighter was steadily losing power despite his efforts, but he ignored it. If worse came to worst, he could siphon power from his deflector shields or lasers to his engines, or even cut his sensors and fly blind.

All of a sudden this became more challenging.

"Drive him to me, Four," he said into the comm, grinning roguishly. "I'll pin him down."

"Roger that."

Riding the squint's tail tightly, Vick dropped the A-Wing nearly to the sand and pulled the trigger. The majority of his shots flew wide of the target, but a single scarlet needle scored a glancing hit on the TIE's underbelly, raining a shower of sparks and shrapnel onto the sand below. It wasn't enough for a kill, but the squint was suddenly leaking what appeared to be hydraulic fluid from its rent belly, meaning it would soon become impossible for it to maneuver.

Seth's flight path had brought him back within range, high above Green Four and their wounded target. Spitting the Interceptor with the crosshairs, he dove, squeezing the trigger to unleash a double burst of fire directly into the squint's cockpit –

The TIE rolled over lazily, early enough that Seth's shots only scored sand. For a moment, he thought maybe the simulator had hiccupped – how the squint had survived a barrel roll with a mangled solar panel in a planet's atmosphere was inconceivable. The maneuver should have torn the craft apart. Seth pulled up out of his roll and circled back around, checking all his monitors for inconsistencies in the programming, but detected no anomalies.

Ahead of him now, Fleen fired again, but his lasers merely stabbed through open air where the squint had been moments before: the pilot had killed his thrust again and dropped several meters out of the sky. The squint throttled back up, rolling onto its damaged solar panel to expose less of a target, and Vick's next few bursts all went wide on either side of the fighter.

Unperturbed, Fleen rolled his A-Wing over onto its port stabilizers, mimicking the squint's maneuver. Pumping fire into the dying craft's rear, he finally scored the engines directly. The resulting explosion engulfed the cockpit, and the TIE detonated spectacularly.

"That's a kill!" Fleen crowed, his voice full of boyish excitement.

"Good shooting, Four," Seth said, glancing over the A-Wing's monitor where angry red text informed him of his fighter's degenerating condition. "Stay close to me – I can't last much longer. Lost a power coupling."

"Roger that, Three."

They veered their fighters back toward the remaining TIEs and the rest of the Greens as they combated, barely four klicks away.

Dano Ven's voice filled their ears as they rose above the ridge and descended into the valley. "Leader? Two. Casualties?"

"We are negative for casualties, Two," Corsurge replied, and his voice seemed to have shed some of its stern quality in the light of current success.

Seth allowed a touch of cockiness to enter his voice as he reset his lasers to single–fire mode. "Let's keep it that way then, Lead."

"My sensors are telling me you're in bad shape, Three," Corsurge returned without acknowledging the pledge. "Can you hold out or do you need to put down?"

Another test, perhaps? Seth clicked his comm twice, ready to impress the commander. He hated to kiss–ass, but apparently that was the only language Corsurge would understand. "Affirmative, Lead."

"Four, cover Three," Corsurge ordered. "Bear point seven–six–oh and hold. Be prepared to cover for us."

A Wookiee growl pulsated through the comm, momentarily deafening them. Farvebacca stood his A-Wing on its starboard s–foil and spat laser fire into his target's thruster wash, but the squint shuddered violently as it simply dropped dead in mid–air. Farvebacca's thrust jostled the craft further as the surprised Wookiee shot past, but the TIE pilot managed to throttle back to full and dropped onto Farvebacca's tail.

"Reverse throttle hop – watch yourself, Five," Corsurge cautioned. "Four, what did he just call me?"

"He was just venting frustration, sir," Fleen replied with a laugh full of static. "He says the squint's good."

The Wook was good too, Seth had to give him that. From their Watcher position, the young pilot watched as Farvebacca kicked his A-Wing into a wide turn around an outcropping of rocks, catching the squint off–guard around the other side. The Interceptor veered to avoid the rocky spire, hesitating just long enough to allow Farvebacca to get back on its tail.

Dano and Corsurge shot past the Wookiee and overtop the squint in close formation, solely to pin the fighter to ground–level and allow Farvebacca the pleasure of the kill. The simple fact that they were holding back again sparked irritation in Seth's guts, but he kept himself from commenting.

– and there was the last surviving Interceptor, rising beyond the ridge and advancing quickly on his endangered comrade's position.

Vick had spotted it too. "Lead? Four. Permission to engage the hostile?"

"Granted, Four. Throttle up and aid Five. Three, stay with him and keep an eye on that engine of yours."

"Affirmative, Lead." Seth nudged the throttle and sped up to keep with Fleen's flight path. Several klicks to their starboard, Dano matched Commander Corsurge's vector as the squad leader maintained steady surveillance of the chase.

The Wookiee opened fire into his target's wake, but the squint had jinked port before Farvebacca even snapped off a shot. He barked a threat over the comm as he ruddered the A-Wing's nose to port in pursuit. The chase was picking up speed with no obstacles to prohibit low flying. The canyon was far behind them now.

"Translation, Four?" Corsurge asked, in relation to the Wookiee's garbled statement.

"The equivalent of a swear word in Basic." Fleen allowed a sharp snort of laughter. He was hanging high over Seth's starboard s-foil as his counterpart closed on the squint tailing Farvebacca. "Shall I repeat it, Lead?"

Corsurge's voice was gruff as it returned. "Not necessary, Four."

Due to a lifelong affiliation with Farvebacca, Vick was the only one in the fledgling squadron who was able to understand the Wookiee. Until the Farvebacca got his paws on a translator droid, the rest of the pilots would continue to rely on Fleen to understand what the Wookiee was saying.

"Gotcha," Seth muttered, painting the advancing squint with his crosshairs and squeezing the trigger. It was a direct hit: the fighter ignited and fell from the sky with a concussive boom.

"Good shot, Three," Fleen praised.

Dano's voice: "Alright, Five – put him out of his misery."

The Wookiee's agreeable roar warranted no translation.

And hurry, Seth thought, glancing at the A-Wing's grim status reports. I can't keep this piece of junk flying much longer. His dying engines had lost thirty–nine percent operating capacity – so much velocity that he could no longer keep up with Vick or the Wookiee. Instead, he dropped back to pace with Corsurge and the XO.

Several kilometers ahead of them, the squint pilot killed his thrust and began swinging his interceptor around for one last pass at the five A-Wings. Whether he just wanted to end it all or simply hadn't realized that he was on his own, it didn't matter.

Farvebacca's A-wing spat four double–bursts of laser fire, and the TIE exploded before it had a chance to fully come about. One of the solar panels managed to survive the blast; it cart–wheeled over and over across the sand dunes, finally coming to rest almost a full kilometer away. The wreckage settled into the sand, smoking.