Lord Darth Yoda - Our heroes will not escape unscathed in this book. Things are going to be very difficult, but for a great story there needs to be great challenges- and this challenge will be great.

Guest - You are very kind to say that these could be published. I find that I make a lot of mistakes (I usually catch them the day after publishing my chapter!). Currently I have 90% of book 3 done and some of book 4 done. I think that I could write a good conclusion to the series in 5 books - but if I keep enjoying writing this series, I could write 7 or so books.

Sourmilk - Thank you for the review. Pravin's sort of honorable in that he does love his job and he does it honorably - but he's just found himself employed by the wrong people. He's kind of an Erwin Rommel sort of character (though Rommel was a tactical genius, Pravin's not at that level.) Yeah, Sascha's supposed to grate on you at times. He's a young kid with a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. And while he generally does handle it quite well, he does make mistakes here and there. And you are right to point out the difference between Nara and Sascha's maturity level - its something we'll see quite often in the rest of this book.

A/N - Not totally in love with my writing in this chapter. Writing dogfights is hard... But hopefully you all enjoy!

Anyways, all reviews, follows, and favourites are deeply appreciated as always.

Enjoy the next chapter

Chapter 23: Invasion Part Two

"I have been informed that a Jedi Knight is on Ubrora and will likely lead the defence of the planet. While Admiral Varless doesn't see this as much of a problem, I wonder, has he ever seen a Jedi fight? Has he seen how well a Jedi inspires his troops? There may be no greater symbol of hope and freedom than an ordinary looking being swatting blaster bolts out of the air. My task has gotten immeasurably tougher. But I will carry onward. For honor."

-From the Journal of Pravin Ecalt, Opening day of the Invasion of Ubrora

Sascha Whitestar composed himself in his seat in his Sarkiss class Starfighter. He took two deep breaths, calming his mind, trying to find his confidence. It's just like a simulator, he told himself. And very few people could touch him when he was flying in the simulator. However, the rational part of of his brain was yelling at him that this was not the simulators, this was his life that was going to be on the line.

Sascha ignored the rational side of his brain. "Never tell me the odds," he whispered to himself.

"What?" asked Nara. "Did you say something?"

He hadn't realized that Nara, who was in the gunnery station in the 'bubble' behind him, could hear him. "Uh...no. Are you ready?"

"Strapped in and good to go," Nara confirmed.

Sascha released a last deep breath, punched the engines and launched from the hangar, the last Sarkiss to be launched from the base. As he took his ship out he once again, cursed whoever designed this tub of a ship. Something this size should be as nimble as a Twi'lek dancer, not as sluggish as a Hutt on a hot day. It had nice shields, but he would have loved to be flying the Emerald Dream right now. The Emerald Dream probably had similar quality of shields, slightly better armament and vastly more manoeuvrability. Oh, and the Emerald Dream had a hyperdrive. Small differences. Important differences.

It doesn't matter, he told himself. You just have to deal with what you have in front of you.

Somehow, that didn't seem to be totally encouraging.

As he flew towards the engagement, on his sensors he saw the first contact between the Ubrorans and the incoming droid fighters. Had he been in command, well, technically he was in command, but it didn't really matter at this point and he didn't want to confuse the current command structure, such as it was. Had he had full control of the engagement, he would have never sent the fighters into space like this, he would have kept the fighters in the atmosphere and used the fact that amazingly the Sarkiss was pretty manoeuvrable in atmospheric conditions. It was too late for second guessing now though. Too late to do anything but go into battle and hope for the best.

He took a half second to remind himself of the usual capabilities of Vulture-class droid Starfighters which he would be flying against today. Despite their small size and narrow profile, they had four laser cannons, which could give any opposition fighter a bad time. The droid fighters were known to be quick and agile with outstanding reaction times, however they lacked the ingenuity of a living pilot. So that was something he could take advantage of. However, the droid fighters made up with that flaw with pure numbers. By the way his scanners were overloading, it looked like the Ubroans were outnumbered upwards of 200 to 60. Definitely not good odds.

As his Starfighter made its way towards the fray in the blackness of space, he saw that the first casualty of the war. As the droid fighters opened fire from long distance, one Sarkiss took a direct hit on it's left engine, knocking it out of commission. The pilot tried to compensate, but it corkscrewed into an oncoming Vulture droid, causing both to explode in a fiery blaze. Sascha felt the surprise of the pilot of the gunner for a split second before they faded from the Force entirely.

He steadied himself, feeling the confidence of Nara behind him in the Force, the confidence of a hunter on the prowl. The gunnery seat swiveled in place and allowed the gunner a huge firing arc, which would be pretty handy in this engagement. He had confidence in Nara and in his piloting abilities, he knew that he was amongst the best pilots in his age group, but he wasn't sure even if that would be enough, piloting a craft he had little experience flying and against numerous enemies.

Still maybe thirty seconds away from being able to join the fray, he shook his head at seeing a couple of Ubroran fighters take potshots at the massive droid transport ships that were using the skirmish as cover as they made their way down to Ubrora. Shaped like a massive letter 'H' the durable transports had incredibly strong shields, it would have taken a coordinated and sustained barrage to take down the transport. Right now, the focus had to be on the enemy fighters, if they were able to shoot down or damage enough today, they could perhaps gain air superiority for the duration of the war.

War.

A few hours ago he had been playfully sparring with Nara, and now he was fighting against an invasion force. His mind was still trying to make sense of it, but he had to stay focused on his current task. There was no way to leave Ubrora but on the Emerald Dream, the Ubrorans didn't have any hyperspace capable ships of their own, so they were stuck fighting this...war.

Then he was in the dogfight and there was no more time for thinking, only reacting. Nara opened up with the laser turret, and he felt her grim satisfaction as she caught a droid fighter across the stern, sending it twirling towards Ubrora, trailing smoke. Then he had to twist the yoke towards the floor to avoid a droid fighter that either was out of control or was trying to crash into his ship intentionally. Suicide tactics weren't usually what droid Starfighters did, but Sascha sometimes wondered why they weren't programmed that way. They were only good fighters in numbers, and if they could trade their 'life' for an enemy Starfighter, that was usually a good trade. Fortunately, this time, Sascha managed to drag his starfighter out of the way of the incoming projectile.

Turning back to the fray, he jinked and juked through the dogfight, firing his forward mounted laser cannons where he could, but generally paying more attention to avoiding incoming fire than trying to destroy the enemy fighters. That was Nara's job.

She was doing a good job of it too. The furball that they had entered had so many targets that it was hard to miss, and the Togruta was using the huge firing radius that was offered to the bubble turret well. The usual problem with a pilot-gunner pairing was that it was hard for the gunner to guess how the pilot was going to manoeuvre. It was not so much a problem for the two Jedi. With the two linked in the Force, Nara knew what he was going to do and he knew what she was going to do, that meant that they could compensate Sascha's wild moves and still fire accurately.

The numbers of the engagement were such that even as good as a pilot as he was, the shields were being battered by stray lazer bolts that were impossible avoid. He didn't even think that half the shots that hit him were actually aiming for him, but the Sarkiss was just so large that it just got hit. The shields were good, but they weren't going to last that long against a continued barrage of hits. Sascha reflected on the fact that the droid fighters were perfect to send against Jedi, because it took away their advantage of being able to sense their opposition pilots. He was still a darn good pilot, but maybe not as good as he would have been against living pilots.

As Sascha twirled their Sarkiss out of the fray for a second, he felt Nara's confidence slowly evaporating behind him, even though she continued to rack up hit after hit. Sascha didn't have enough time to see how the battle as a whole was going – he needed all of his concentration to keep the Sarkiss' shields from failing due to the constant lazer attacks that were being thrown at him. Maybe they were doing fine, but feeling the deaths of many of their allies was taking its own mental toll, and that little bit of distraction that it caused him could make a difference between avoiding a hit and taking one square.

Grimly, with the thrill of the fight having faded, he dove into the dogfight for what might have been the tenth or fortieth time, he couldn't really remember. He hit the thrusters, giving him the 'max' speed, as pathetic as it was and he fired his forward mounted lasers a couple of times, missing wide left at a droid fighter that suddenly decided to jink to the left and out of the way of his tracing red lights. He would have liked to have finished the job but he suddenly had something more pressing than being preoccupied by a wayward shot, as a flight of Vulture-class fighters settled in on his tail and opened fire with their laser cannons.

He managed to avoid the worst of the first volley, though that was about all he managed to do. One more good volley like that and the shields would be history.

For the first time he, keyed the microphone on his headset, "Can anyone peel these fighters off my tail?"

"Save you? We can't even save ourselves!" was the panicked reply over the open channel. So much for comm discipline, he thought bitterly.

Sascha knew that he was on his own, so he made his craft move as randomly as possible, making himself as hard a target to hit as was he could. As he dropped deeper into the Force, he he almost wasn't aware of his physical surroundings, it was just him listening to the Force and trying to feel it as it guided his hand on the unfamiliar controls. The incoming laser fire still raked against the rear shields, whatever meagre manoeuvres he could manage with this ungainly Hutt of a ship were unable to shirk the more agile fighters on his tail.

"Nara!" he yelled, "Focus on the fighters on our tail!"

"You don't need to shout!" came the quick reply from Nara, "And what do you think I'm doing!"

Nara's return fire whizzed pass the three smaller, nimbler fighters, missing by what seemed like centimetres. Another volley of fire slammed against the craft, this time sending a fearful shudder through its frame, accompanied by the wailing of sirens that indicated that the shields were failing.

Lovely.

He realized for the first time that he wasn't even wearing a helmet or flightsuit, and it dawned on him that even if he knew how to use the ejector seat on his Sarkiss, he wouldn't last long in the vacuum of space. He couldn't think of a worse way to die, freezing alone in a little bubble, waiting for his oxygen to run out…

Stay focused, Sascha, as long as you are still flying there is still hope.

He can't tell if the message that comes through the Force is communicated comes from Aurine or Nara, but it snaps him back to reality, suddenly finding the wherewithal to force the ship into a dive that he abruptly aborts and then climbs as sharply as the fighter can. Behind him, Nara kept firing away determinedly, trying to take as many enemies down with her as she could. She keeps missing the trailing droid fighters by the smallest of fractions; all four of them are still trying to turn their Starfighter into slag.

Suddenly, a friendly fighter swooped through the furball, the tail gunner opening up with the twin laser cannons, blasting two of the Vulture droids off their tail. Sascha is about to comm his thanks, when a cascade of fire hits his savior's stern, the craft breaks in half where the two 'bubbles' that house the Ubroran pilots meet. For a half second he thought that the pilot and gunner will be able to punch out, but that hope is ruined when something, perhaps a fuel tank, explodes, engulfing both pilot and gunner in it's fiery wake.

A range of expletives come to mind, but none of them seem to appropriate to the horror that he feels watching this specific life fade from his senses. Why do people keep dying for me? he wonders. What did he do to deserve it?

"Sascha, their sacrifices mean nothing if we don't live through this!" he heard Nara yelling in his headset. Idly, he found that Nara had dispatched for the remaining fighters that had been trailing them. He decided that the Togruta has a good point and he turned away from the fray, deciding that he needed a moment to re-evaluate the fight and catch his breath.

Finally having a second to glance down at his scanners, he was surprised to find that the battle was going well. Enemy numbers were plummeting rapidly, much because of them, but Vash Varless was finding out that the Sarkiss fighters were tough ships to take out, regardless of how good the pilots were. Simply put the Sarkiss class fighters were tougher and harder to take out – plus the Vulture droids had never seen a Sarkiss before and were apparently having trouble in determining how much damage they needed to take one out. There were still more than than forty friendly fighters in the skirmish, with a few limping back to Ubrora with major damage, the rest, well…they were with the Force now.

Yet the numbers of Vulture droids was plummeting far more rapidly.

We are winning, Sascha realized.

As if at that moment the opposition commander realized that he couldn't hope to duel the tenacious Ubroran defenders and hope to come out the winner, the droids abandoned their skirmishes and dove for the ground, possibly intending to do as much damage as possible before returning to their mothership. It would be a way to claim victory – if the vulture droids could have

Speaking of the Reprisal, the Lucrehulkclass battleship cut an ugly figure in orbit around the fifth planet in the Ubroran system, a large brown ball of a planet, but it was doing nothing to contribute to the battle, which Sascha thought was quite curious.

As the droid fighters broke for Ubrora, the defenders of Ubrora lost their coordination almost all at once, abandoning wingmen, comm discipline and anything resembling battle tactics. Through the comms, he heard as each Ubroran tried to identify the droid fighters that were heading for their particular slice of home and made to try to shoot them down first, even if it meant passing over other targets of opportunity.

Sascha cursed, fighting the current of fighters that was going towards Ubrora to pick off the straggling droid fighters that were having a heyday as the Sarkiss fighters of the Ubroran Defence Force dove to the ground, showing them their rear shields. He and Nara cleaned up with a few of the smarter Ubroran pilots, who realized that as much as they wanted to, they would be unable to stop the Vulture droids in their ground assault.

He opened a channel, "This is Commander Whitestar, we are going to hunt down as many of these droids as we can, but let us hunt in a pack, if we stay together, we can make these invaders pay."

"You heard the commander," cut in an authoritative sounding voice, Form up by pairs, pick out the biggest concentration of enemy fighters and then blow them out of the sky. For Ubrora!"

Sascha smiled, a wild, feral, 'I-can't-believe-I'm-still –alive' smile. Picking up his new wingmate, he found a clump of vulture droids and tried to set an angle to intercept them so they couldn't get back to Reprisal.

Nearly an hour later and now an ace pilot by just about every standard possible, he brought his rather battered Sarkiss class fighter in for a landing. The clean-up had gone as well as possible, though the droid fighters had done some significant damage on their attack runs, including damaging this very air base, they had been beaten back with severe losses.

As he jumped out of the cockpit, he was immediately mobbed by a group of Ubrorans giving him congratulatory handshakes and complimenting him and his flying skills. Hair slick with sweat and exhausted beyond measure, he almost gets carried away with the celebration, after all it would be nice to be recognized for his efforts.

Nara moves silently beside him, and her fierce glare keeping the revellers at a safe distance, "good flying, but we need to keep these Ubrorans focused." He knows that Nara is right, he just can't summon the ability to end this celebration, after all so many of their compatriots just died…

"Quiet everyone!" barked Nara, as she uses the Force to project her voice throughout the massive hanger. "You think this is over? You think this was a great victory? These fighters need to be refuelled, pilots need to be debriefed, and superiors need to be informed. Every one of you has something you can be doing, something you should be doing. Do you think that those invaders are going to give up and go home? Did you forget that they managed to land a massive army? Our fight has only just begun."

Sascha feels the celebratory mood dissipate, but Nara's speech is too dire, not inspiring enough – it almost feels as if it gives everyone in the room a bout of depression. He speaks up, "This was one battle, but we are in a war. We bloodied their nose today, let's make sure there are enough of us around to send them packing!" This produces a cheer from the assembled Ubroran pilots, technicians and officers. The mood in the hanger is better now, they are aware of the challenge at hand, but they are also focused back at the task at hand, "get to work everyone."

As the Ubrorans get back to fighting the war that was on their dooorsteps the two Padawans find an empty room. The two embrace chastely in a short hug, just relieved that they were both alive, "good flying," said Nara.

"Good shooting."

"Good speech."

"Thanks, Nara."

Nara poked him in the chest, "We need to report back to our Masters. Come on."

"Can't we take one second to savour this victory?" he asked wearily.

"You my have one second," said Nara with a small amount of her usual enthusiasm.

Sascha closed his eyes for a second, and exhaled. This whole situation was crazy. He was fighting a war. A war for Force sakes! But this was the situation at hand. He had to deal with it. He was fighting for the freedom of an entire planet. But he would win. They would win. Because the Force had placed four Jedi here for some reason. He had to believe that.

He opened his eyes, "Let's go to work."