Leia walked down the ramp of the Falcon. A Commander rushed across to her. "Your Highness, Mon Mothma sends her apologies for not being here to greet you personally and asks if you and Colonel Skywalker would mind waiting in guest quarters for the moment?"

Leia smiled, trying to put the man at ease, glad that she was going to be alone with Luke for a while. There was something she needed to discuss with him... an idea that she wanted to bounce off him without Han going completely off the deep end. "Of course," she told the Commander, explaining, "I can understand how busy she must be."

"Thank you, Your Highness. I'll have someone take you there." Han and Chewbacca were walking down the ramp behind her. The officer had already turned his attention to them, "General Solo, Mon Mothma would like to speak with you and your First Officer as soon as possible. With your permission, I'll take you and the other pilots straight there."

"That's fine by me," Han said, glancing at Chewie who growled in confirmation, "but..." As if on cue the trio appeared from the other side of the Falcon. "You guys ready to see Mon Mothma now?" Han asked.

 Jomanock nodded, "Yes, Sir."

 Han looked at Gabhaan, who bobbed his head, "Yes, Sir."

"Then if you'll follow me, General, Gentlemen." He turned to Leia and Luke, "Your Highness, Colonel, Lieutenant Darklighter will show you to your quarters." With that he turned, leading the way across the hanger floor. Han paused briefly, kissing Leia's cheek. "See you later," he said, pulling a face at her and Luke before heading after the Commander. Chewbacca, Jomanock and Gabhaan fell in behind.

Leia put her arm through Luke's as the Lieutenant guided them across the hanger, noticing that his face had clouded over, his eyes melancholy. "What?" she asked him, softly.

He gave her a sad smile, "Nothing... just... Darklighter. I was thinking about Biggs.."

She squeezed his arm in understanding, and for a moment they walked in silence. Then, as they left the hanger, following the Lieutenant along one of the corridors she told him, quietly, "I've had an idea."

The wall unit chimed, warning Lando that there was an incoming message. He sighed, sitting back in his chair, rubbing his hands across his eyes. "Yeah?" A hologram flickered into life on the desk in front of him. He smiled, pleasantly surprised, "Your Highness, what can I do for you?"

"Can you switch to channel one from there?" the diminutive image of Leia asked.

"Just a minute," he told her, leaning across to the unit on his desk, punching in a serial number. The hologram flickered, losing consistency for a moment as the scrambler kicked in, before returning to full strength. "You can talk freely now, Your Highness."

Leia gave him a quick smile, coming straight to the point, "Would you be willing to volunteer for a mission without knowing the full details? If, for example, all I could tell you, at the moment, is that it's highly dangerous, but extremely important."

Lando rubbed his chin, considering for a moment. "Does it get me out of this office?" he quipped.

The Princess fixed him with one of her stern looks, "I'm being serious, Lando." Then she sighed, "I know it sounds melodramatic, but the continued existence of the Rebel Alliance could hang on it's success."

Calrissian gave a low whistle, quirking an eyebrow, "That important....." He leant forward, something occurring to him. "Leia," he asked, "does this have anything to do with the rumours we've been hearing about another Death Star?"

Leia took a breath, saying nothing, dismayed that the gossip had spread so far, so quickly. But her silence gave him all the answers he needed. Without hesitating he said, "When do I leave?"

Feeling some of the tension washing out of her, knowing that the hardest part: convincing Han: was yet to come, she told him, "I'll contact you again in a few hours, once we've worked out the finer detail. Until then I need you to find someone of the same build, height and colouring as Luke. They'll be in no danger... once the first part of the plan is complete they'll be returning to their duties."

"I'll see what I can do," he told her, already running through some possibilities in his mind.

"We'll also need to fit out someone to double as the bounty hunter, Bouush."

Leia saw the surprise on his face, but ignored it, continuing, "Again, once the first part of the plan's done, they'll return to their duties. I'll get a drawing of Bouush to you as soon as I can. And we'll need to find a ship, unregistered if possible... one that has similar storage facilities as the Falcon."

Lando frowned, wondering just what in all the hells Leia was planning. Whatever it was, Bouush implied that she was going to be personally involved. Curiosity biting at him but knowing better than to press for details now, he simply nodded, "I'll get on to it straight away. The ship, how extensive does the storage space need to be... or can you tell me what you need to hide?"

"Two, perhaps three, human males."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem,. In fact, I may be able to get my hands on one almost straight away..."

Leia smiled at him again, "Thank you, Lando. One last thing, is there anyone in the Vhargan or Shuelar systems that you know? Someone you might possibly contact if you were looking for information or something, bearing in mind that you're now working for the Rebel Alliance?"

"The Vhargan or Shuelar systems...." He thought for a moment. "I may still have some... business," he said, choosing his words carefully, ".. left to finish in Demerin. That's on Ffonsim."

"How dangerous would this.. business.. make it for say you and Luke there?"

Lando shrugged, "With enough money we could stay as long as we wanted without too much hassle."

"I see," Leia said, as if deep in thought. "Thank you again, Lando. I'll be in touch."

The hologram disappeared and he rose, heading for the door. First the ship, then he'd start thinking about the rest.

Han sauntered into the guest suite, dropping into an easy chair across from Luke and Leia, propping his feet up on the glass table. "I think it's safe to say that Mon Mothma is not a happy lady."

"How was she?" Leia asked, concerned about one of Bail Organa's oldest and closest friends, a woman that she'd known since early childhood.

"Quiet," he told her, "... very quiet. She basically let the four of us ramble on. Then Jomanock handed over the data from his fighter and she asked if we'd go back to see her once she'd had it analysed." He shook his head, then seemed to brighten, "So, what have you guys been up to?"

"We think we may have come up with something to get us on to the Death Star," Luke began tentatively. Han dropped his feet onto the floor, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Leia glanced across at Luke, then back at Han. "What?" the Corellian asked.

"It's risky, but it might just work...."

"What?" Han demanded. Leia took a deep breath.

Pain dragged Wedge slowly back to fevered consciousness. The overpowering ache behind his temples dulled the stinging fire in his arms. Too sick and exhausted to move into a more comfortable position, dreading the protest from his body, he lay still, the floor icy against his face and chest.

Drifting in and out of restless, threatening darkness, he waited. Time had ceased to exist. He had no idea how long he had been here: a week, a few days.... hours... Fear swamped him, the thought that all this had taken place in just a few hours dragging away hope. A small voice at the back of his mind warned him that he wouldn't last another session. Still another warned him that if he broke, he was betraying everyone. Goddess, please, just let him pass out before he talked: buy just a little more time...

Just a little more time to get some strength back, to let him fight. But if he told them something.... something not really all that important, that would give him time as well, wouldn't it. The pain would stop for a while....

The door slid open. No, please no, not yet. Please not yet...

Hands lifted him, ignoring the feeble struggle he attempted. The wall was frigid against his back and he began to shiver again. The restraints clamped into place. The band round his neck bit into his windpipe, making it difficult to breath. He tried to open his eyes, but the light dazzled him, making him want to throw up. He closed them again, but the nausea remained.

"How was the Space Station at Yavin destroyed, Lieutenant-Colonel?"

"Lieutenant-Colonel... Wedge... Antilles...."

"What is the location of your home base?"

"..... Rebel All.... Alliances Forces...."

"Give me the details of the mission you were on when you were captured?"

 Silence, this time.

"What is the strength of armourment and personnel at your home base?"

 Silence. Then, "Lieutenant... Colonel... We... Wedge Antilles...."

Daevith bit down his anger, aware that he only had a few hours left before Moff Anjouk pulled the matter out of his hands, handing over the Rebel to someone else. "LieutenantColonel," he snapped, "I grow weary of your continued mockery! You're not impressing anyone! All that you're achieving is making your own life extremely difficult! Tell me what I want to know! Tell me how the Death Star was destroyed at Yavin!"

Antilles said nothing. For a moment Daevith thought that the man had passed out. He walked across, lifting the LieutenantColonel's chin in one hand, brushing the fingers of his other hand across one of the burns. The Rebel moaned, pulling his head out of Daevith's grip. The Major nodded to Fremen who flipped the clip on his blaster pulling it free of it's holster.

"How was the Station at Yavin destroyed, Lieutenant-Colonel?"

Wedge heard the low whine of the blaster, felt his shirt being ripped open, felt the gentle caress of heat against his chest. He flinched, only succeeding in tightening the bands round his wrists. The heat began to build.

"What is the location of your home base? Tell me, Lieutenant-Colonel and the pain will stop.... It's quite easy! How was the station at Yavin destroyed?"

"Lieutenant...." he began.

"That's not what I want to hear, Lieutenant-Colonel! Tell me what I want to
know! How was the station destroyed at Yavin?"

"No-o...."

The pain was growing unbearable, Daevith's voice hammering against him, "What is the location of your home base? The location, Lieutenant-Colonel, give me the location and this will stop! Give me the details of the mission you were on when you were captured! What is the strength of personnel and armourment at your home base? The figures, Lieutenant-Colonel. Tell me and this will stop!"

A scream clawed its way up into Wedge's throat, choking any reply. The Major's voice hammered at him again, "Tell me, Lieutenant-Colonel, and this will stop!"

Self preservation shrieked at him: all that mattered was that the pain stopped. Tell them something, anything! Doesn't have to be much, just tell them! The scream erupted from his throat.

 And then he heard himself blurting out, "MILK RUN..."

No, please no! What had he done.... He couldn't! But they'd promised, they'd said... So why was the heat still burning! He'd betrayed himself and the heat was still burning!

Daevith stepped up to him. "What?" he asked softly.

"MILK RUN!" Wedge screamed again. Now that he'd started, he found it was too difficult to stop... easier just to go along... But his throat closed up, leaving him choking for breath.

Daevith motioned for Fremen to remove the blaster and crossed to the door, picking up a container of water. He moved back to Antilles, opening it, supporting the Lieutenant-Colonel's head as he placed the carton against his lips. The man was fevered. Shaking and shivering so much that it was difficult for him to drink: obviously more seriously injured than Daevith had realised.... Perhaps the beating he'd taken that first day...

Now that he had finally managed to get Antilles to talk, Daevith considered the possibility that he had taken this just a little too far, been a little too overzealous. The wounds on Antilles arms, now that he looked more closely, did look infected. And Anjouk would not be best pleased if this Rebel died.

Wedge sipped greedily at the liquid, feeling it ease his throat. Finally it was taken away. "What is "milk run", Lieutenant-Colonel?"

"Training mission.."

 Daevith frowned, "You were on a training mission?"

"Rendezvous.... supply ship."

Slightly confused by Antilles' answers, the Major tried to clarify, "The rendezvous doubled as a training mission?"

"Yes." The Rebel lifted his eyes, fastening his gaze on Daevith's, saying with difficulty, "The girl.... you killed....JhavraH.... was.... sixtee...." The word strangled into a sudden moan of pain, his body collapsing a little further onto the restraints.

"Take him down!" Daevith ordered. Fremen slapped at a panel, the binders retracting into the wall. Daevith and Nawe caught Antilles as he crumpled, lowering him, almost gently, to the floor.

 He was still conscious, barely. "Why was the Millennium Falcon involved?"

"Only.. ship available...." His voice was weak, no more than a whisper. Daevith fed him a little more water.

"What were you picking up?"

"Food.... replacement parts..."

"Munitions?"

"No..."

"Where were you to rendezvous?"

Wedge shook his head slightly, refusing to answer. No, no more. He had given them enough, given them too much.... any more and it would destroy him. Please, just let the darkness take him..... why wouldn't it take him, let him sleep for a little while...

"Where were you to rendezvous with the supply ship, Lieutenant-Colonel?"

 The Rebel shook his head again. "No..." he breathed.

Daevith was astounded. He had thought the hardest part was over, that he had finally broken this man. Now he realised that Antilles had merely been playing with him! And in a strange sort of way he found a growing admiration for the Rebel... Three days of punishment he had taken, and still he resisted! But the trickle of information he had given would hopefully secure him for Daevith. Surely Anjouk wouldn't hand him over to someone else now? No, this man was his, had to be his! He, and only he, would have the credit for breaking him. Sighing in consternation, he demanded, "For the last time, Lieutenant-Colonel Antilles, and then we shall have to resume the persuasion, where were you to rendezvous with the supply ship?"

Fear surged. It was going to start again. Self preservation screamed at him anew, tell them. Just tell them... No, he tried to convince himself, wait. Wait until it starts, then tell them. Stall for just a little longer, just a little more time.

"Very well, Lieutenant©Colonel. We'll play it your way, once again." The officers grabbed him under the arms, hauling him to his feet.

Wedge tried to breath, the kaleidoscope of light beginning to whirr inside his head again. He felt as if he had an iron band wound round his head, growing tighter and tighter, making him dizzy and sick. He hadn't the energy, had little in his belly to throw up, but his body still tried.

 Major Daevith watched the convulsions in dismay, snapping orders at the men. They dragged Antilles to the cot, laying him down on his side. "Fremen, get a medical droid! You," Daevith barked, turning to Nawe, "stay with him until the droid's finished, then report to me. I must relate our success to the Grand Moff."

 Turning, he marched out of the cell.

Han skimmed over the details yet again, not happy at the thought of being left behind, "Why Lando? Why not me?"

"Because Lando isn't just as big a prize as you, and both you and Luke being offered up together might make them suspicious... see it as too much of a good thing. Because you and Luke would most probably turn up in the Falcon, and we don't have time to get the Falcon to Demerin. Because its easier finding only one double, rather than two. Because Lando's known in Demerin... do you really want me to go on?" Leia finished, gently, knowing how desperately Han wanted to be in on this.

"So, why Demerin?" he tried.

Leia suppressed a sigh. "The Vhargan system," she began to explain, pressing a pad on the console inset to the table, a hologram of several star systems springing into three dimensional clarity, "is here, close enough to the core of Imperial held space for them to be reasonably interested in what goes on. News of two Rebels disappearing is going to arrive with the right people quickly, especially if we spread rumours about them being taken by Bouush. And it's the sort of place that the Imperial intelligence will believe Rebels could be lurking, making a kidnapping story even more viable. More importantly though, it's close enough to the Amber Fleet for Lando to get there quickly. He knows people there. He has, quote "unfinished business there" unquote."

"What if the Imperials don't buy Bouush as the bounty hunter? They could have heard about what happened at Jabba's palace," Han worried.

"No-one else was there when Bouush tried to jump Wedge and I," Luke told him. "No-one knows that the real Bouush is dead, that's why we used him at Tatooine. And even if they do know about the palace, it gives Leia something else to back up the story, because the real Bouush won't be happy at some-one impersonating him like that."

"Yet another reason for me... Bouush," she corrected, "to be after Skywalker. Makes it more personal."

"I don't know..."

Chewbacca spoke softly. The trio of humans looked at him, a slow grin spreading itself across Luke's face. "Great idea, Chewie! I mean, who's going to argue with a bounty hunter who has a Wookiee as a body guard?"

Leia shook her head, "Chewbacca, thanks for the offer, but someone might recognise you..."

The Wookiee cut her off, braying quietly. Han looked at him aghast, "Black and silver?"

Luke leant forward, "Chewie, you'd really dye your fur for this?" Chewbacca nodded, slowly.

"Well, I'd sure feel a lot happier if the Big Guy went along for the ride!" Han told them, both he and Luke looking at Leia.

To the Corellian's great relief, she smiled, "I think you'll look wonderful in black."

Luke stood up, "Then, I suggest that we try to see Mothma now. The longer we wait..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice his fears, pushing away the image of Wedge on the floor of the cell.

Leia was already on her feet, "I'll talk with her. Wait here."

Daevith waited anxiously outside the Grand Moff's office running the details through in his head yet again, sorting through the story. Finally the door slid open, Anjouk's voice inviting, "Come in, Major." Daevith walked into the room, hesitating only momentarily as he saw the rest of the station's Ranking staff arranged round the circular table. Anjouk was explaining, "Major Daevith has been interrogating our Rebel friend." He turned to Daevith, "So, Major, what news of Lieutenant-Colonel Antilles?"

"He has finally started to be reasonable, Sir. I obtained the first information minutes ago and came straight here to inform you."

 Anjouk smiled, "Then inform us, Major."

"It appears, Sir, that Antilles and the Millenium Falcon were on a routine pick up detail that, in this case, doubled as a training mission. Their orders were perfectly simple: rendezvous with a supply ship carrying food and replacement parts, then return to the base. The Millennium Falcon was there essentially because she was the only freighter free for duty at that time."

"What ship was supplying them?" Admiral Yommo asked.

"I don't have that information at this time, Admiral, nor do I have the location of the Rebel Base. Lieutenant-Colonel Antilles collapsed before I could press him further. I left him with a medical droid. Once he has had sufficient time to recover I will begin questioning him again."

"I want the name of that ship, Major!" Anjouk told him. "It must be made an example of!"

"Yes, Sir."

"And don't waste your time on the location of his home base. That will have been evacuated by now. Concentrate on getting the details of the destruction of the station at Yavin. The Rebels know about this station, they will attempt to destroy it. We still have time, Major, our listening posts have picked up no dramatic increase in Rebel movement. But you have had three days and I want that information as quickly as you can get it. Then we can formulate a plan of action to ensure that when they do attack, they will be defenceless"

"You will have the details, Sir." Daevith assured him. Then asked, "If I may be allowed to...?"

Anjouk waved his hand, "Go, Major. You are dismissed."

Mothma had readily agreed to hear them and now listened in silence as Leia and Luke outlined the mission plan verbally. Then sat in silence, reading over the outline. Finally she sat back, setting it down, "It's certainly simple enough in its lay out, and I learnt many years ago, that the simplest plans have the best chance of working... however..." She looked pointedly at Luke, the sincerity in her voice robbing the words of any unintended insult, "This plan relies very heavily on you, Colonel. Please believe me, I imply no slander on your abilities, but it is a major consideration, if this is to succeed."

"I realise that, Ma'am."

She nodded. "But would you agree, Colonel, that if you were somehow incapacitated, the chances of the mission being successfully completed are... minimal."

 Luke took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "Yes, Ma'am."

She nodded, hearing the resignation in his voice, knowing that if Leia had had anything to do with this plan then they would probably have gone over every single scenario a dozen times. She attempted a smile, "I can see that a possibility you have considered, Colonel. I apologise if I am re-treading ground already beaten to dust."

"We all understand that you have to be sure," Leia told her, softly.

Mothma looked at her, then at Luke and Han, "But can you understand that, in all conscience, I cannot sanction this..."

Leia tried desperately to hide her frustration. It had been a possibility, it had always been a possibility, she told herself. But now that she heard Mothma saying the words, the kindness she also heard infuriated her. And she hated herself for being angry at this woman...

 But Mothma was continuing, "... at least, not as it now stands."

 Leia's hopes rose again.

"If things were to go wrong, then worst case scenario, I would be handing three of my higher ranking personnel to the Empire, on a platter. The damage that would do to the Rebel Alliance is unimaginable." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "We have already, potentially, been compromised with the loss of Lieutenant-Colonel Antilles..." She trailed off her expression melancholy, then seemed to brighten, "However," she told them, standing up and walking round her desk to them, "please give me time to consider all the possibilities." She turned to Leia, "You said that you have already begun the initial groundwork?"

"Yes... I..."

"Then, for the moment, continue with it. I assure you, that if there is any way, any way at all, that I can satisfy my misgivings, then I will give this outline serious consideration." Leia reached out, placing a hand on her arm. Mothma looked at her giving her a sad, haunted smile, placing her hand over Leia's, "I greatly fear, your Highness, that these are the most desperate circumstances we will ever face."

Leia tightened her grip, saying nothing, knowing that there was nothing she could possibly say. The full weight of the Rebellion rested on the shoulders of this gently spoken, fiercely protective woman who had mourned every death at Yavin, every death on Hoth, Bramha, Delft, Endor.... They had all known that the killing wasn't going to stop with Endor, but they had at least hoped it was almost over. Yet now she was faced with another, seemingly insurmountable issue, that threatened, once again, to destroy hundreds of lives.

Mothma released her grip on Leia, pulling gently away. "Please, gentlemen, Your Highness, go, let me think on this."

Luke and Han saluted, turning towards the door. Leia kissed Mothma lightly on the cheek, then followed. Mothma waited until the door closed, then turned back towards her desk, mind already running, once again, over the plan they had concocted.

Daevith leant casually against the wall of the cell, watching the medi-unit work with Antilles. The Rebel officer was still unconscious, his breathing shallow and ragged, fever pulling faint, mumbled incoherency from his lips. The droid had spread Bacta gel over the burns on his inner forearms and now began to apply it to the seared flesh below his collarbone. Antilles made a small sound, breath catching in his throat as the thick fluid touched the raw wound. Finished, the unit produced a hypodermic, sliding the needle into Antilles' arm above the burn, squeezing a colourless liquid into the vein. The irregular breathing eased infinitesimally. Discarding the empty hypodermic, it retrieved a rehydration patch, pressing it firmly against the Lieutenant-Colonel's neck before picking up another device, pushing it down onto the Rebel's chest, directly above his heart. After a moment it lifted the device away.

 Duties finally complete, it turned. "Well?" Daevith demanded.

"The subject's fluid and glucose levels are extremely low. A rehydration pack has been applied to counteract this. The condition has also resulted in the weakening of his heart, for which adrenalin has been administered. There has been some internal bruising which will require time to settle. The wounds have become infected, causing fever. Antibiotics and painkillers have been administered."

 Daevith frowned, "When will he be ready for questioning."

"The subject's condition will have improved significantly within eight hours. Interrogation before that time would be unwise."

The Major swore silently, pushing himself off the wall. Eight hours. Eight damned hours! Still, it would be unthinkable if Antilles died before he had detailed how the station had been destroyed at Yavin. Failure to retrieve that information would most certainly be disciplined... He walked across to the Rebel's unconscious form as the droid hobbled its way out of the cell, looking down at the flushed, fevered face. "Eight hours, Lieutenant-Colonel," he warned the Rebel softly, "you have eight hours. And then I intend to break you and bleed you dry! You will not play me for the fool again! Anjouk will have that information."