The pain expanded, engulfing him as the drug coursed through his veins, robbing him of breath. Then as quickly as it had overwhelmed him, it faded. He gasped for air, his lungs burning, head lolling, suddenly too heavy for his neck to support.

Daevith smiled, "The name of the ship you were to rendezvous with, Lieutenant-Colonel? Give me the name!"

Wedge felt as if he was floating, moving through a dream. Someone was talking to him.... who.... For a moment he couldn't remember who he was, where he was. Then his dazed mind pushed the answers through the cocktail of narcotics. Was this, he thought detachedly, the mind probe.....

"Antilles! The name of the supply ship you were to meet, what is it?"

The question stabbed through his head. He could feel the answer slipping slowly towards his lips and clamped down on it. The pain began to build again as he fought against betraying the name, his muscles burning, bones aching.

Daevith stepped up close to the Rebel, cajoling softly, "Don't fight it Lieutenant-Colonel. The more you fight it, the greater the pain will become. You've suffered enough already. Your integrity is undoubted... Let go."

Wedge moaned, shaking his head, his breathing coming in short agonised gasps. Daevith tried again, "All that I need is the name of the ship you were to rendezvous with. Give me the name of the supply ship." Again, the Rebel shook his head.

Daevith closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This had to be the most stubborn individual he had ever had to deal with. He stepped away from Antilles, motioning the droid back towards the prisoner. The unit floated towards the Lieutenant-Colonel, hovering inches above him. An arm slowly extended, the syringe filled, once more, with the colourless liquid. Antilles flinched, crying out as the droid plunged the needle into his arm.

The cold liquid burned into his veins. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs, agony slowly unfolding its power, to overwhelm him. He clenched his jaw against the scream that crescendoed in his throat, but the anguish crushed through him. He fought against it, desperately resisting the drug, a small voice in the back of his conscience telling him that if he let go now, nothing could save him... The pain caressed him, pushing at him, drawing him further and further down. His spine arched against the restraints.

"GLAN'ENN...."

Unable to contain the potency of the scream any longer, the word tore itself from him with a jolt that ripped away all that remained of his resolve. The intensity of the failure drained him, shattering the last shreds of purpose. He filled his lungs with another shuddering breath. His heart faltered for a moment, then continued to beat. He collapsed against the restraints, broken, finally, in body and spirit, "Glan'enn," he moaned again, "Spice freighter... bound... bound for... Dantooine."

Daevith smiled, looking proudly at Fremen and Nawe. He walked back across to Antilles, "And where were you to rendezvous?"

".. far side of... the... Beriin system."

"And the name of her Captain?"

"Nazhan. Veriin Nazhan."

"Good, Lieutenant-Colonel," he assured Antilles, "Very good. Now, tell me, the Space Station at Yavin: how was it destroyed?"

A chime sounded on the console and Luke slipped out of the co-pilot's seat, laying a hand briefly on Chewbacca's shoulder. The Wookiee looked round, covering Luke's hand with his own, saying nothing.

Lando and Leia looked up as Luke stepped into the living quarters from the flight deck, Artoo chirruping at him. "It's time," the young man told them quietly, heading for the tiny cell at the rear of the cabin.

Leia stood up, reaching for the binders as Lando slid out from behind the table. Turning away from her he put his hands behind his back and she stepped across, snapping the binders into place around his wrists. Clenching his teeth, following Leia down the cabin towards Luke, he twisted his wrists, letting the metal chaff the skin. Luke also presented his back to her, proffering his wrists.

"Don't do anything stupid," she petitioned, quietly, the binders snapping closed.

He turned, giving her a grin that reminded her of Han and she couldn't help but return the smile. Arms securely fastened behind his back he leant forward, kissing her gently on the cheek. "I'll be careful, I promise."

She stepped away, allowing Lando into the cell before turning the force field on with a remote switch, slipping the remote into a pocket. Giving them one, last look she said, "I'd better get my head gear, then turn Threepio back on." Then she disappeared back down the cabin.

Luke dropped gracefully to the floor, lying down on his side as Lando slid down the wall. Slowing his breathing to deep, even breaths, Luke let himself glide down towards meditation, opening his senses fully to the Force: concentrating at first on himself, Lando, the cell. Then slowly easing out towards Artoo, Threepio, Leia, Chewbacca, feeling the life energy flowing through and around them, each of them adding their own uniqueness to the whole, the Force. And always there, ready to prey, to feed of his fear; his hatred: The Dark Side.

He had already tasted its power. On the Death Star at Endor he had succumbed to its first tentative seduction, used it in a desperate attempt to protect Leia by destroying Vader. Only, he had seen the danger in time, had pulled back... and now his strength came from acknowledging its existence but refusing it, pushing it away.

Reaching out again he stretched his senses further afield, crossing the decreasing distance towards the Death Star. He settled into the meditative state, completely aware of everything happening around him. But to those not trained in Jedi ways, even to medical droids, he would appear deeply unconscious. No threat to anyone.

Leia slipped the helmet on, securing it to the rest of the armour, testing the voice box. "What do you think Artoo?" The droid whistled excitedly at the electronic warble it added, and behind the faceplate, Leia grinned, beginning to settle into character. Reaching behind Threepio she flipped open a tiny cover, pressing his "on" button. The gold droid burst into life.

"Oh, my! What's happening... I.. Good gracious!" he finished, suddenly seeing Leia.

\\What is your designation?\\ she demanded in Ubese.

\\I... I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations....\\ he replied.

\\Can you speak Human Standard?\\ Leia demanded, menacingly.

\\I... yes.. I am programmed....\\ But Leia had already turned, stalking towards to the flight deck. Threepio scanned the cabin quickly, spotting the short, dome-headed figure lurking in the corner. "Artoo? Artoo, what's going on?"

The little droid mewled mournfully, then began clicking and beeping. "The bounty hunter Bouush!" Threepio cried in dismay. He jerked his head round to look at the open flight deck door, "Oh my..." Turning back to Artoo he wailed, "I thought I recognised him. Oh, Artoo, what's to become of us..."

Artoo interrupted with a series of burbled whistles, "Master Luke and General Calriss.... oh no! Artoo, we have to help them! Where are they?" He stood up, only to find that his feet were secured to the floor, leaving him unable to walk. "Artoo! I can't move!" he panicked.

A huge black and silver Wookiee appeared in the door of the flight deck, moving towards him. Threepio, for once, stayed silent. The Wookiee reached down, unlocking the restraints and, taking the protocol droid by the arm, propelled him towards the flight deck.

Bouush turned as they entered, \\Tell them that your master is the bounty hunter Bouush and that he has something to interest them! Tell them to let us inside!\\

\\Yes, yes, of course...\\ Threepio began, stuttering to a stop as he saw that they were running in towards what looked frighteningly like a Death Star. But the Wookiee pushed him forward. Stumbling against the back of the bounty hunter's chair, Threepio finished, \\Of course.... Sir.\\

He leant forward, taking the com-link from Bouush's outstretched hand. "Attention Space Station. My master bids me tell you that he is the Bounty Hunter Bouush! He also bids me tell you that he has something here of great importance to you and graciously asks that he be allowed to bring his ship on board, in order that he may come to some arrangement with you."

A voice, heavy with distaste, crackled over the radio, "Standby, Bounty Hunter."

Leia sat, waiting, feeling sweat trickle slowly down her spine. In the cold reality of the situation, their request seemed so lame. As the seconds dragged by, she began to convince herself that it wasn't going to work. All this way, all this planning, and it wasn't going to work, damn it. Tension slowly eased its way up her neck into her head. From behind the bulk of the space station she saw a flight of TIEs glide into view.

Then the radio burst into life again, "Bounty Hunter, follow the fighters into the docking bay."

"Yes, Sir," Threepio replied without prompting, "Follow the fighters in." He turned to Bouush, \\We are to follow the TIE fighters into a docking bay.\\

The Wookiee pushed past him to sit in the co-pilot's seat.

\\Get out,\\ Bouush told him without turning round.

\\I.. yes. Yes, of course, Sir.\\ He tottered out of the flight deck, moving back along the cabin, following the sound of a force field towards the cell tucked at the back. "Oh, how did we get into this mess, Artoo?" he wailed as he passed the little droid. "Master Luke? General Calrissian?"

"Threepio?"

The droid reached the cell, seeing Lando Calrissian clambering to his feet, hands bound behind his back. His normally pristine attire was grubby and ripped in places. And beside him, on the floor, lay the unconscious body of Luke Skywalker. "Oh, no! Master Luke?"

"Threepio, see if you can turn the force field off!" Lando told him.

Threepio stepped back, flustered, searching the wall area for a switch. "There doesn't appear to be anything here to turn it off , General...."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing..." He looked quickly at the door of the flight deck, then stepped in towards the force field, "General Calrissian, Bouush is taking us on board the Death Star!"

Lando played his part well, giving Threepio a look of undisguised horror, “Death Star....?"

"Yes, Sir! I've just seen it, and we're cruising in towards it! Oh.. I'm sorry, Sir, but there doesn't appear to be anything I can do!"

"That's okay," Lando told him, slumping back against the wall as if defeated and sinking slowly down it to the floor.

Threepio looked at him aghast, "Oh, my," he wailed. "Oh my!"

The Death Star's immense bulk slowly blotted out the stars as Chewbacca guided the ship in, following the TIES. They turned slightly, approaching the station at an angle before turning again, flying the last of the approach at right angles to the surface. "That must be it," Leia commented quietly, pointing to a rectangular point of light, ahead and to the right, the synthetic voice still sounding strange. Chewbacca rumbled a soft assent, remembering the last time he had approached a station like this.

Sooner than she could ever have been prepared for, the TIEs broke off, leaving them to glide inside the open maw of the landing area. Chewbacca brayed something, quietly, pointing out the lone X-wing that sat on the far right hand side of the hanger. Leia nodded, glancing at him. She watched troops rushing into position as Chewbacca brought the ship into a hover, settling it onto the ground with a gentle thud. Leia stood up as he ran through the shut down checks, lifting a rifle from the side of her chair before walking into the cabin. Threepio jerked round guiltily as she appeared and she swung the rifle up to point at him, standing for a moment, watching him. Then she turned, moving into a corridor towards the landing hatch.

\\Protocol Droid!\\ she barked, \\Come here!\\

 The hatch hissed open, then retracted, a ramp gliding quietly from beneath the hatch to the floor. A slender humanoid form stepped out of the ship, moving down the ramp with lithe, easy grace, a rifle held loosely in it's hand. Behind it tottered a gold droid. And behind that, Commodore Gresse noted in disgust, an eight foot, black and silver furred.... thing.

The humanoid surveyed the scene, slowly. Then spoke in a language Gresse couldn't understand. The droid stepped forward, "My master asks who is in charge here?"

The Commodore stayed exactly where he was. "I am."

The humanoid turned its helmeted head to look at him, then spoke again. The droid translated, "My master wishes to converse with your Commanding Officer, and him alone. My master believes that your Commanding Officer will be very interested in what he has to sell."

Gresse gazed at them, arrogantly, "You will discuss the matter with me! I speak for.."

The humanoid cut him off and again the droid translated, "With all due respect to your exalted position, my master says that this is of too great an importance. He will discuss it only with your Commanding Officer, and believes that your Commanding Officer will not take kindly to your delay in informing him of the situation."

Gresse felt his anger beginning to rise at this impudence, "Tell him..." he began, but the humanoid had taken a step towards him. From the unintelligible blurb unleashed upon him, Gresse understood only one word: Skywalker. Rethinking the situation rapidly, his anger swiftly evaporating towards excitement, he listened as the droid told him, "Master Bouush says that the matter involves a Rebel called... Skywalker, wanted for crimes against the Empire."

"You will come with me!" Gresse told the bounty hunter, starting to turn away. But there was another spiel of incomprehensible babble.

"My master, Bouush, has no wish to be led to an interrogation cell. The information is for sale only. And unless you bring your Commanding Officer here, he will..." The droid hesitated for a moment, then continued, his voice quavering slightly, "..self destruct the ship killing everyone within this landing bay.... I strongly suggest that you comply with his wishes, Sir!"

Gresse's anger flared again. Threatening the Commodore was not something many people survived! Then a calm returned as he decided that in this case, discretion was most definitely the best part of valour. He turned to Bouush, “Remain here! I will see if the Grand Moff is available."

The bounty hunter inclined his head, then turned, walking into his ship.

"Sir..." Gresse began.

"I heard, Commodore...." He turned to the Admirals and Junior Staff seated round the table. "What do we know of this Bounty Hunter."

"Bouush has done some work for us in the past, Sir," the Intelligence Officer told him. "His file shows him to be as trustworthy as any mercenary can be... responsible for handing over quite a number of Rebels, most notably Colonel Willard, the man in charge of the Rebel Alliance Ground Forces at the Yavin base during that incident. Disappeared without trace just over a year ago... There was some rumour of him having died with the Hutt on Tatooine, but nothing was ever substantiated."

"Admiral?"

Yommo shrugged, "Normally I would counsel caution, Sir, but in this case I can see no problem in talking to him."

Anjouk, stood, "Then let us see what this mercenary has to offer us, Gentlemen."

Un-noticed by the assembled personnel, an Artoo unit trundled quietly down the ramp of the bounty hunter's ship, rolling across the hanger floor towards a niche in the far hanger wall. Inside the ship, lying on the floor of the cell, Luke wove the Force, wrapping it round the collective Imperial concentration, hiding Artoo from them. Lando watched him anxiously, glancing up at Chewbacca as the Wookiee appeared on the other side of the force field. Calrissian shrugged. Chewie shook his head then moved away.

Artoo rolled to a stop, extending his claw arm, rotating the end slightly before slipping it into the computer socket. Burbling quietly to himself, he soaked in the information. Then, with a low whistle of thanks, he broke the connection, arm retracting back into his body. He turned, slowly trundling back towards the ship, up the ramp and inside.

He rocked on his legs, beeping excitedly. Threepio looked at him in exasperation, "Artoo, what are you talking about? Who's here?" But the Wookiee was already shoving the little unit towards the computer socket in the flight deck.

"Artoo," Leia's synthesised warned softly through the mask. The little unit made a small sound, as if in apology, then plugged the claw arm into the ship's computer. Data flashed rapidly across the screen. When it finally stopped, Artoo pushed a message onto the screen. This station was no different from the one at Yavin. And Wedge was still here, level five, detention block AA-zero-five. Despite herself, Leia shivered, memories of her own experiences in a detention cell flowing, unbidden, to her mind. She swallowed, taking a deep breath trying to calm the terror that rose in her chest. Chewbacca laid a hand on her shoulder and she gripped it tightly. Holding onto him, using the Jedi meditation rituals that Luke had taught her, she fought for control.

Then her brother's mind gently touched her's. Using his strength, letting him guide her, she felt the terror slowly fading. Finally, back in command of her emotion, she loosened her grip on Chewie's hand and gently pushed Luke away, letting him know that she was all right: using the link to tell him about the station, giving him Wedge's location. Luke stayed with her a moment longer, then Chewbacca growled, letting her know that someone was coming and her brother's presence receded.

She stood up, lifting the rifle, patting Artoo's head as she passed him, following Chewie out of the flight deck towards the hatch. Hang on, Wedge, just hang on. We're coming.

Han strode into the conference room, the murmur of voices dying swiftly to silence. He stood at the lectern for a moment, looking round the faces of the assembled B-wing pilots, his gaze finally resting on Medith, tucked into the far corner. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "The mission plan, as you have already been informed, has been split into two distinct parts. The destruction of the Death Star by your colleagues will only swing into action if the initial plan fails. In that event, your assignment is to protect the X-wings and Y-wings during their bombing runs." He activated the holo-image, a large, three dimensional figure of the Death Star appearing. "The bombing run streams in from this direction," flags began appearing along the line of the proposed course, "dropping into the trench at this point. From then on, the wings will be most susceptible to enemy fire. The A-wing flights will go in first, running in from the same direction, skimming low over the outer surface of the Death Star, taking out the surface guns so that the guys in the trench can concentrate on not hitting the sides and each other. Once they've taken out what they can, they'll be dropping in behind any TIEs that get through.”

 "You're job in this scheme is to take out the TIEs before they get out of their launch bays. They're not as fast, but their more manoeuvrable than your ships." The bright bombing run flags faded, other markings appearing. "You've already been split into flights of three pairs. Each flight will be assigned to a particular launch area. Take the TIEs out as they appear from the station. Who's been allocated as First and Second pairs?" Hands rose into the air, "Okay, you guys will remain almost static, picking the TIEs off. Third pairs?" Other hands rose, "You're job is to get the fighters the first pairs miss. But don't follow them too far. The A-wings, as I said before, will take out any that make it to the trench. Track them long enough to make sure that they don't arc back and take you out from behind. If things get real hairy, the Second pair will break the static line and help out, understood?"

Heads bobbed, a murmur of ascent sweeping the pilots. "It's going to be tricky, people. You'll be balancing on a fine point. We need that static line as constant as possible to take out the fighters, but stay still too long and they'll get a weapons lock on you." He paused, letting the information sink in before continuing, "Finally, and most importantly, the code for breaking off the attack and getting the hells out of the area before the station blows. The phrase "All flights. Break! Break! Break!" will be used. When you hear it, break off, run like hell. Once you've regrouped, make the jump to the first rendezvous point."

He paused for a moment, then smiled. "Now that we've got that out of the way, here's what you're really going to be doing. X-wings and Y-wings will be running in close to the surface, doing as much damage and creating as much havoc as possible, establishing a diversion for this ship," the holo-image changed again to show Lando's freighter, "to make a free run for home. Study this picture well, people. Under no circumstances has this ship to be fired upon! I know Governor Madine stressed that at the first briefing, but I'm reiterating it! I believe that he also told you you'd be informed of the cargo..." He took a deep breath, "Lieutenant-Colonel Wedge Antilles, Red Leader, has been a prisoner on the Death Star for just over five days..."

An audible gasp swept across the hall. Han let it die away, then continued, "This ship, Ladies and Gentlemen will be bringing him out."

"On this assignment, your position is almost the same. You have been assigned to a particular launch area to take the TIEs out as they appear from the station. The only difference is that all three pairs will take up the static line. This time the A-wings will be watching your backs and taking any TIEs that get past you. Concentrate on dropping the TIEs, but watch for this ship! Whoever sees it first, tell me and I'll escort it out of the area. Again, when you hear the phrase "All flights. Break! Break! Break!": break off, run like hell, regroup then jump."

Grand Moff Anjouk strode across the hanger deck, followed by an entourage of more junior officers and security personnel. The bounty hunter sauntered down the ramp, rifle held across his body, his arms crossed. A gold protocol droid followed him down to the hanger floor. The huge frame of a Wookiee appeared in the open hatchway, but remained inside the ship.

"I am Grand Moff Anjouk, Commanding Officer of this battle station. Commodore Gresse tells me that you have information to sell," Anjouk said bluntly, coming straight to the point.

Bouush inclined his head, then began talking, the droid translating, "Perhaps, if the price is right."

Anjouk allowed himself a smile, "The Empire will be most grateful for any valid information on the Rebel Skywalker."

"Gratitude will not fix Master Bouush's ship, or fill the Wookiee's belly."

Anjouk smiled again, "I'm sure the substantial amount of money to accompany that gratitude, would."

"With respect, Sir, Master Bouush worries that your definition of substantial may not exactly match his own."

"Tell your master, he will be well rewarded!"

"How much?"

Anjouk was growing tired of this bartering nonsense. "I believe," he said coldly, "that the bounty on Skywalker's head has just been raised by another ten thousand credits! I'm sure that we will be able to come to some sort of arrangement. For valid information!"

"And if my master can deliver Skywalker, Organa, possibly Solo, what agreement can be made?"

"Prove that I will not merely be wasting my time in discussions. Then, and only then, can we talk of re-numeration."

The bounty hunter said nothing for a moment, then turned moving back up the ramp and into the ship. The Wookiee also disappeared. Moments later Bouush returned, herding in front of him a dark-skinned man. Not moving quickly enough for Bouush's liking, the bounty hunter shoved him forward with a foot in the small of his back. The man stumbled, almost regained his footing but ended up crashing to the deck in a heap at Anjouk's feet.

General Lando Calrissian! Anjouk watched, marvelling at his own good fortune, as the man clambered, inelegantly, to his feet. First Antilles.... now Calrissian: fate was certainly favouring him! The Wookiee had appeared, another figure slung across his shoulder. Anjouk watched with growing interest as the huge beast strode down the ramp, sliding the body from his shoulder, letting it drop to the floor beside Calrissian.

What other little bird has this bounty hunter caged for us, the Grand Moff wondered. Bouush stepped across, swinging the rifle down, pointing it at the unconscious man, supplying, \\Luke Skywalker\\

There was a sharp intake of breath from Yommo, standing at Anjouk's side. For a moment no-one moved. Then Anjouk walked forward, flipping the prone form of the Rebel terrorist onto its back with his foot. "Skywalker is sedated, nothing more," the droid translated. "Master Bouush underestimated Skywalker once before... and warns that it almost cost him his life!"

"Noted," Anjouk told him, thrusting down the excitement that bubbled in his guts, his attention on Skywalker. So this was the man Vader had uprooted half the galaxy to find. This was the man the Emperor had allowed himself to be destroyed because of. This was the man who was going to help rid the galaxy of the Rebel Alliance once and for all! "Well, Bounty Hunter, it appears that  owe you rather a substantial amount of money!"

"Master Bouush feels, at this time, that he should point out that he has many enemies, and few friends. Therefore his ship is programmed to self-destruct should anything happen to him. He mentions it only because he hates to think that a blaster, going off purely by accident, would ultimately destroy this hanger and most of the surrounding levels!"

"Tell your master that he is quite safe on this station!" Anjouk told the droid, voice icy. "After all, he has promised to add Organa and Solo to our little collection!" Not waiting for the droid to translate, Anjouk turned his attention to Calrissian. The man stood in quiet dignity, mouth hard, eyes spitting hatred. "Commodore Gresse?" the Grand Moff began, not releasing his gaze from Calrissian's.

"Sir?"

"My complements to Major Daevith. Inform him that when he has finished with Antilles, I wish to see him." The anger faded from Calrissian's eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering as Gresse saluted, turning smartly and marched away. Anjouk schooled his face into a look of surprise, "Haven't you heard, General Calrissian? Lieutenant-Colonel Wedge Antilles has been sampling our hospitality for the last five days. I'm sure he will be delighted to see you."

Calrissian made a move, as if to go for Anjouk, but in one instantaneous wave of sound, ranks of rifles suddenly pointed straight at him, bringing him up short. The Wookiee had also moved, catching the back of the General's shirt and now dragged him back, away from the Imperial Commanding Officer.

"Take them away!" Anjouk ordered, coldly. "Put them beside Antilles!"

Two stormtroopers moved in on either side of the two Rebels, taking hold of Calrissian's arms, dragging Skywalker off the floor. Anjouk turned his attention back to Bouush, "Perhaps you would join me while I make arrangements for your payment to be dealt with.

Bouush said something to the Wookiee, who moved back to the ship, then fell
in at Anjouk's side, the droid close behind.

Luke waited until they were in the elevator, gliding upwards to the detention cells, then moaned softly as if coming round. By the time the elevator slid smoothly to a halt, the two stormtoopers were holding him upright. He let his head loll, as if still under the effects of the sedation. The doors opened, the troopers marching Lando and Luke into the detention area.

The black uniformed officer checked a screen. "Put Skywalker in twelve-seventeen... and Calrissian in twelve-thirteen!"

"Wait!" a voice commanded, "Where is Antilles?"

 Without questioning, the officer checked the screen, "Twelve-zero-nine.”

Luke smiled as the stormtroopers moved forward, directing their prisoners up the steps and along the detention block corridor towards the respective cells. The door to Luke's cell opened, then closed, the stormtroopers marching back down the corridor, sure in the knowledge that they were abandoning him to the tender mercies of the interrogation officers. Standing outside the cell, Luke grinned, watching their retreating backs, the binders unlocking and falling softly to the floor. Then he turned, jogging the few metres to where the other two stormtroopers were shoving Lando into his cell.

For reasons known only to themselves, they stepped inside instead of closing the door. Luke reached out, gathering the Force, and the two men folded spinelessly to the floor. Lando's binders unlocked, falling away. Already ragging off his clothes, he turned. Luke stripped one of the troopers, handing the uniform armour to Calrissian, checking quickly down the corridor as Lando pulled it on.

For some reason the guards in the hall area hadn't realised that only one pair of stormtroopers had left. Luke grinned.  Finally Lando was ready, scooping a blaster rifle from the fallen stormtrooper. Together they stepped out into the corridor, moving quietly back towards cell zero-nine. Luke picked up the discarded binders as he passed, locking them round his wrists. "I don't think Wedge is alone," he whispered to Lando, holding up his bound arms, "just in case they suss before we get inside." The General acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Major Daevith turned as the door opened. A blond man, hands secured in front of him, stepped down into the cell, a stormtrooper following. "Yes?" Daevith demanded, stepping forward.

For a moment Luke said nothing, his attention on the man secured, by metal restraints, against the wall between two other officers. A pain droid hovered at his side. With an effort Luke forced himself to be calm, to push away the feelings of anger and hatred that surged to the surface as he saw the state that Wedge was in. He looked at the officer in charge, saying simply, "I am Luke Skywalker."

Slowly, the Lieutenant-Colonel lifted his head, hearing but not believing. "No-o-o..." Wedge moaned softly as he recognised the newcomer, "No...." He closed his eyes as the room began to spin, willing the image to go away. It wasn't Luke! Goddess.. no.. it couldn't be Luke. Please, let him be dreaming... let this just be another nightmare....

Daevith's annoyance washed towards pleasure. Then surprise as the binders on Skywalker's wrists opened and clattered to the floor. He reached for his blaster. But Skywalker had ducked, twisting round, reaching inside his tunic. As Daevith's blaster cleared its holster, the lightsabre hummed into existence. Luke let his momentum push him round, swinging the Jedi weapon up towards Daevith's neck. The stroke complete, he switched the sword off, watching in calm disinterest as Daevith's body crumpled to the floor, his head rolling to a stop at Lando's feet. Blaster aimed at the other officers, concentration totally on them, Lando kicked it away.

Luke stood, lightsabre held loosely in his hand, "There has been a slight change of plan, gentlemen. You will move away from Antilles into the corner." Wordlessly, the men complied then crumpled, unconscious, to the floor.

Lando slung the rifle over his shoulder, rushing, as Luke did, across to Wedge. The restraints retracted into the wall with a hiss, the two Rebels catching their friend as he collapsed, lowering him gently to the floor.

"Luke..." Wedge began, unsure about what he'd just witnessed, not quite believing that they were here to rescue him, waiting for the real Daevith to walk through the door laughing as the hallucinations faded back to reality. But the hands on his shoulders felt  real, as real as the agony.... He lifted his head, opening his eyes. And Luke was still there. The stormtrooper pulled off the helmet to reveal Lando Calrissian.

"We gotta get you out of here, Wedge. Can you walk?" Luke asked, gently.

Tears slid slowly down Antilles' cheek, "I... I don't know... Yes... I think...."

"Luke," Lando cautioned, tersely, "we can't take him out looking like this!"

Luke acknowledged the truth in Lando's statement. He could alter most people's perception, but there was always the danger of that one who couldn't be influenced... like Jabba. Wedge, in this state, was going to make it even more difficult... There was only one, obvious solution. "Strip one of those guys, Lando. I'll help Wedge."

Luke supported Wedge's back, gently pulling the shirt off his shoulders, easing Antilles's arms out of the sleeves, trying not to disturb the burns, telling him, "Sorry about this, Wedge, but if Lando can pretend to be an Imperial, so can you."

"Shouldn't be... too... difficult," Wedge quipped, listlessly. "All they've gotto do... is... beat you... to a pulp."

Luke shot a grin at Wedge, biting down on his anger, unable to avoid seeing the black/green mass of bruises that covered his friend's back and ribs. Finally, the shirt removed, he helped Wedge to his feet. Wedge bit down on the pain, fingers digging into Luke's arms as he fought through it, stifling a groan. Luke held him upright, Lando slipping the sleeves of the Imperial uniform jacket up his arms and over his shoulders. Wedge moaned softly, once.  They swapped Rebel for Imperial uniform trousers, Calrissian holding Wedge as Luke slipped the boots on for him then fastened the jacket.  Finally, Lando stuck the helmet on Wedge's head, securing the strap under his chin. "How you doing?"

"I've been better."

"Just take it easy, Wedge," Luke told him. "If you're in trouble, tell us. We'll get round it."

Wedge nodded, "Okay." Then slowly they helped him towards the steps. At the end of the corridor, before they stepped down into the hall area, Wedge visibly dragged himself straighter, finding the strength somewhere deep inside himself to pull away from them. Luke gave Lando a slight nod, indicating that they should let Wedge go, then gathered the Force, reaching out to support Wedge, taking some of the weight, helping dull the pain.

The officers in the hall area seemed pre-occupied with something on one of the screens, not looking up, swearing later that two officers and a stormtroopers had gone past. Wedge gritted his teeth, fighting to stay conscious and on his feet for the eternity that they waited for the vacuum elevator. His head was swimming, his body protesting. Luke moved slightly closer, catching hold of his friend's elbow, steadying him. Eventually the door hissed open. Wedge stepped inside, aware that Luke and Lando had followed. The door hissed closed.

And Luke caught Wedge as he passed out.

Leia stood at the observation window, looking out at the stars beyond. The relief that she'd felt when Artoo had given them Antilles' location, belaying the nagging worry that all of them had felt, but never voiced: that Wedge was no longer on the Death Star: was beginning to fade, replaced by uncertainty about how Lando and Luke were doing. Things had been made that much easier when the Grand Moff had ordered them taken to the same cell block as Wedge.... but it was still a long way from the detention block to the hanger. And they had no idea of the state of Wedge's health.

"Breath-taking, isn't it?"

 Bouush turned to Anjouk. "Yes."

"So you do speak standard," the Grand Moff smiled, as if sharing a secret.

Leia cursed silently. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid... concentrate! "Speak...." she began as if finding it hard to pronounce the words, "difficult.... Understand.... perfect."

"Ah, I see. Your money is being dealt with, my men will load it outside your ship." He crossed to his desk, indicating that the bounty hunter should sit. Bouush moved towards the desk, but remained standing. "Tell me, Bouush... our file on you seems rather incomplete... I was wondering what had become of you over the last year or so?"

Behind the mask, Leia smiled, dropping back into her well rehearsed part. \\As I told you,\\ she began, Threepio translating for Anjouk, \\I made the mistake of under-estimating Skywalker. He, however, made the mistake of not killing me. Instead he left me for dead in the back streets of some nondescript city, where I'd tracked him down making enquiries about the Corellian, Solo. By the time I had recovered, news was just breaking about the debacle on Tatooine with Jabba the Hutt. Leia Organa had apparently used my identity  to gain access to the Hutt's palace, to free Solo. Suddenly I found that half the galaxy thought I was dead... and the other half thought I had joined the Rebellion, that Organa had used my identity with my consent. Either way, my customer base was destroyed. It made things personal.\\

"Yes," Anjouk agreed, "I can see how it would."

\\One of the few acquaintances I have left,\\ Bouush continued, \\informed me that Calrissian was in Demerin and that it was widely rumoured Skywalker was also going to turn up .. the rest, as they say, is history.\\

Luke halted the elevator. "Wedge? Wedge, come on, buddy..."

"Luke," Lando warned, "he's bleeding." A small pool of blood was beginning to form beneath Wedge's hand, dripping along his fingers to the floor, a dark patch appearing on the sleeve of the jacket. "The burn must have caught..."

Luke briefly considered trying to staunch the flow, but if there was internal injuries it might kill him. No, not viable... Better just to carry him across the hanger to the ship. It was going to be difficult to distract so many people, but as long as they didn't have to go too far it would probably work... "How far from the elevator to the ship?"

 Lando frowned, trying to remember, "Sixty... maybe a hundred yards..."

Just what he'd estimated. Not that  far, he considered.

Wedge moaned softly, his eyes flickering open. "Shit..." he began, realising that he was lying on the floor. He attempted to get up, but Luke held him, stopping him.

"Wait, Wedge. Lie still for a minute, get some strength back. There's no hurry," he lied. Wedge relaxed against him. Luke glanced up at Lando, "I'll cause a distraction, take their attention away from the area between the lift doors and the ship long enough for us to get inside. And if we need to, we carry you, Wedge."

Wedge murmured, already slipping back into unconsciousness. Luke glanced up at Lando. "Fine by me. Let's do it," Lando said.

Together they lifted Wedge to his feet, holding him round the waist, his arms round their shoulders. Luke reached out, starting the elevator on its journey again, using the strength of the Force to cradle most of Wedge's weight. "When the doors open, we wait until I give the say so, then we run."

"Got it," Lando told him. Bright red splatters of blood dripped down his armour. The lift slid smoothly to a halt. The doors hissed open. There, ahead of them, off to the left, sat Wedge's X-wing, technicians pulling it to pieces. Luke stretched out, visualising the fighter, slowly working at the restraining pin in the front landing gear. With a wrench, it sheared. Cries of panic echoed through the hanger as the X-wing's front gear folded, the fighter smashing onto its nose.

"Now!" They lifted Wedge, racing across the hanger floor towards the ship, Imperial personnel ignoring them, totally absorbed in the X-wing as the nose tore into the hanger floor, the left main gear starting to buckle. Chewbacca appeared in the hatchway of the ship, wandering down the ramp to see what all The excitement was about.

"Chewie," Luke shouted over the commotion, as they approached. The Wookiee turned, saw them, and moved quickly back into the ship. They dashed up the ramp. Inside, Chewbacca met them, swinging Wedge effortlessly into his arms, carrying him through the living area into the cell. Behind him, Lando pressed a remote switch hidden in the roof of the cabin. Part of the cell floor slid away, revealing a large concealed compartment and a multitude of Medi-Paks. Chewbacca knelt, laying Wedge gently onto the pillowed floor of the compartment, Lando already on the other side, describing what he had seen of Wedge's injuries, beginning to cut away the pilot's Imperial uniform.

Luke had activated another switch, reaching into a niche in the flight deck, pulling out a belt of time delayed devices. He strapped them round his waist, then moved to the hatch. Confusion still reigned in the hanger. Beginning to gather the Force, to ensure that no-one saw him he started to move down the ramp, then stopped dead. Dark blood-smudged footprints trailed across the hanger floor, up towards the hatch....

Swearing, he turned back. "Chewie?" He reached the cell, "Chewie?" The Wookiee growled at him, not turning. "Chewie, this is important!" The Wookiee rumbled, thrusting the medi-pak at Lando, climbing to his feet, following Luke back through the cabin to the hatch. "We gotta do something about those," Luke told him.

Chewie looked out, whuffing a sighed comment as he saw the footprints. He mewled, throwing his hands in the air, disappearing back into the cabin. Luke left him to it, checking the hanger quickly. Reaching out to gather the Force he ran lightly down the ramp towards the elevator.

Admiral Yommo walked into Anjouk's office, the expression on his face as he acknowledged the bounty hunter's presence, smugly pleasant, "Sir, we have just received information that two Rebels, believed to be Skywalker and Calrissian were kidnapped by a bounty hunter on Demerin. The Senate is advising all outposts that Bouush may try to make contact and is ordering them to act accordingly."

Anjouk turned, looking up at the bounty hunter, "I think Bouush will agree that we have fulfilled those particular orders." The bounty hunter inclined his head, and Anjouk turned to Yommo, "Have we made any reply?"

"No, Sir. I thought that you may wish to reply personally."

Leia smiled, deciding that now was as good a time as any to free herself of the Grand Moff's presence, \\Your hospitality is appreciated, but I must return to my ship. You must understand that if I am away too long, the Wookiee begins to fret.\\

"Yes," Anjouk agreed, "Yes, of course." He checked the chronometer, "My men should have finished the arrangements for payment. I have ordered them to deliver it to your ship. They will be most willing to help load it, if you are in need of assistance?"

\\My thanks. But the Wookiee will manage\\

Anjouk stood, pressing a button on his desk. Almost instantaneously the door opened, a young man appearing behind Yommo. "Lieutenant," the Grand Moff ordered, "take the gentleman back to his ship."

Bouush turned, inclining his head before following the officer, the droid shuffling after them. Anjouk wrinkled his nose at the stench the bounty hunter had left behind as he sat back down, steepling his fingers, deep in thought. A necessary, if repulsive, evil, he acknowledged. He had never liked the Empire's use of them.... but it had to be admitted that sometimes they were indeed useful: like now.

"Thank you, Admiral," Anjouk told Yommo, "I will advise you when I am ready to inform the Senate." The Admiral saluted, turning smartly, walking out the door.

First Antilles had fallen into their laps, the Grand Moff reflected. Now Calrissian and Skywalker had been delivered, with the promise of Organa and possibly Solo in the not too distant future. With Skywalker in their grasp the Rebel Alliance was finished... but if the bounty hunter was indeed true to his word they could annihilate it! Mon Mothma and her misguided cronies would finally be eradicated as a thorn in the Empire's side.

Anjouk reached for the call button on his desk, deciding it was time to see Skywalker again. His brief meeting with the Rebel Colonel in the hanger, had been a little one sided... And then, of course, there was Calrissian. The Grand Moff wondered if the man realised just how great a mistake he had made in that little show of bravado... The terrorist General must obviously be taught some manners.

But first he would find out what information Antilles had given them: Daevith had reported nothing to him yet. And vengeance would be so much sweeter when he had the information to back up his intimidation. He pressed the switch, "Commodore Gresse, find out why Major Daevith is taking so long. Inform him that I wish to see him immediately."

Luke checked the corridor, pulling back quickly, pressing himself into the wall. A squad of stormtroopers clumped heavily past, heading towards the bridge that housed the control unit for the tractor beam. Luke stepped in behind the last trooper, following them the short distance along the corridor and onto the bridge.

Side-stepping quickly, he disappeared round the ledge, behind the bulk of the control unit. Moving from one console to the next he eased the handles down, listening to the hum from each one dying to silence as he closed the controls. Finished, he continued round the ledge, onto the bridge, jogging silently after the squad of stormtroopers, towards the main reactor area.

The door of Antilles' cell opened, the guard stepping down the first step. Shock pulled him numbly to a halt and he stood for a moment, mouth slightly open, breath starting to come in short, sharp gasps. Swallowing down nausea, he finally remembered why he was there and turned, rushing out of the cell, back down the corridor to the hall area. Face draining of colour, hands trembling he toggled the switch, "Commodore Gresse?"

Gresse heard the strange tone in the man's voice. He slapped the intercom, "Yes?"

"Sir," the disembodied voice panicked, "Antilles is gone! Major Daevith is.... is dead. His... his head..."

Gresse couldn't afford to wait for the man's explanation. "Check Calrissian's cell!" he ordered, stomach turning suddenly to lead. "And Skywalker's!"

There was a moment's delay as the guard scurried to the respective cells, his panic growing as he found the first empty and two unconscious soldiers, one stripped of his armour, in the next. He ran back to the hall area, almost losing his footing on the steps in his haste. "Sir," he choked, "they've gone!"

Gresse closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he was going to break this news to the Grand Moff. "Sound the alarm!" he told the guard. Then stood, straightening his uniform. He reached Anjouk's door as the klaxon began to whoop.

 Anjouk was already on his feet, "What? What is it?"

"Sir, Skywalker, Calrissian and Antilles appear to have escaped."

"Impossible!"

"I... I'm sorry, Sir, but..."

"Find them, Commodore!" Anjouk told him, voice dripping ice. "How far can they get? And bring me the Bounty Hunter!"

In the hangers of the command carrier, pilots raced for their ships. Ackbar surveyed the scene with Han Solo, watching the ground crews pulling away pipes, scrambling up the sides of the fighters after their pilots, strapping them in as they initiated the start checks. The noise level began to build as one by one engines gunned into life, engineers dropping back to the ground, canopies hissing closed.

Finally, beside them, the engines of the Falcon wound slowly upwards towards idle as Solo's new co-pilot brought her to life. Han turned to Ackbar, "I'll have to go, Sir."

"Of course. General... May the Force be with you."

Han gave him a lopsided grin, then turned, striding up the ramp into the Falcon. Ackbar watched the ramp hiss closed, then moved back, leaving the hangers to the crews, making for his bridge.

Han strode along the corridor, turning into the flight deck. Medith glanced back at him, continuing with the checks, "Everything in the green, Sir," she told him reaching the bottom of the final list as he slid into the left hand seat. "This little lady's ready to go."

Han settled his headset onto his head, moving the mouth piece as he said, "Control, Falcon, ready to lift."

"Falcon, you're number one. Clear lift. May the Force be with you, Sir."

Han smiled, reading back, "Number one, clear lift. Thank you Control." He turned to Medith, warning good naturedly, "Don't dent her!"

Medith gave him a sour look, then grinned mischievously, telling him gravely, "I'll do my best not to, Sir."

On the bridge Ackbar watched with the rest of the bridge crew as fighters and bombers glided gracefully from the belly of the flagship, turning and heading for the first jump©off point. He listened intently as General Solo's voice ordered, "All wings report."

One by one the pilots checked in, announcing their readiness. The flights continued away from the flagship for a moment longer, then Solo's voice crackled over the radio, "Lock jump co-ordinates." There was a pause while he gave them time to comply, then he told them, "Jump in five.. four.. three.. two.."

The elevator doors opened. Leia saw the broken X-wing lying awkwardly on its nose and one wing tip, and recognised what had to be Luke's handiwork. Grinning at the obvious havoc it had caused she stepped out, into the hanger. And stopped dead as an alarm klaxon began to howl. Spinning round she dragged the unsuspecting Lieutenant out of the elevator as the door started to close, barking at him.

"Master Bouush wishes to know what is going on?" the gold droid at her side translated for him.

"I... I don't know..."

"Then Master Bouush," the droid informed him pleasantly, "suggests that you find out."

"Em..." the man began, then visibly pulled himself together, "Yes, of course. Tell him to remain here."

Leia turned back to the ship as Threepio relayed the instruction. Chewbacca stood in the hatch. He nodded slowly twice, indicating that Lando and Wedge were on board and that Luke was already out in the depths of the station. She swung her rifle, tapping the muzzle against her face plate, signalling that she had understood. The Lieutenant had returned, "It appears that the prisoners you brought in have escaped. The Grand Moff wishes to see you."

For one awful moment as the droid translated, he though Bouush was going to strike him. Then the bounty hunter snapped something at him and disappeared into the elevator. The Lieutenant looked at the droid.

"Master Bouush asks you to convey to the Grand Moff that his troops are weak-minded fools and that he was warned not to underestimate Skywalker. Your troops are to concentrate on finding Calrissian. Master Bouush will go to the Grand Moff when he has secured Skywalker. Again."

Chewbacca loped back through the living quarters of the ship, towards the cell. Lando was already dropping into the hiding place, lying down next to Wedge. The Wookiee brayed at him.

"Don't worry," Calrissian assured him, "we'll be fine. We've got everything we need. I'll make sure Wedge is okay."

Chewie whuffed something else, then turned, reaching up for the remote switch, making sure that the floor of the cell slid into place above Wedge and Lando before running back to the hatch.

The door chimed, pulling Mon Mothma away from the mission brief that she was reading, yet again, "Come." The door to her office opened, admitting her aide who showed Governor Rieekan into the room. Mothma thanked the young Commander, rising to her feet, moving to meet Rieekan as he walked across the thick carpeting towards her.

"Admiral Ackbar has just reported in, Ma'am. All ships have been launched. They completed the jump into hyperspace a few minutes ago."

Mothma simply stood looking at him, as if she couldn't quite take the news in. She looked away from him for a moment, twisting her hands distractedly. When she looked back her expression was haunted. "Thank you," she told him, her voice no more than a whisper.

"Ma'am?" he began gently.

She saw the concern in his face and reached out, resting a hand on his arm. "I'm fine. Honestly.... But, if you wouldn't mind. I'd like to be alone for a little while."

"Of course," he nodded, turning back towards the door.

She waited until it had closed, then crossed the room to the balcony doors, walking outside. The sun spread its warmth over the city laid out below her. She moved to the railing, placing her hands on the warm metal. Free citizens, unaware of the drama being played out half a galaxy away, went about their unconcerned business. Despite the heat of the late afternoon, she shivered. Closing her eyes, a headache beginning to pound behind her forehead, she tilted her face up to the light, suddenly terribly tired.

Children's laughter floated up to her, children not all that much younger than some of the people who would die today in the cold, vacuum of space... and yet if they didn't die... Tension abruptly took its toll, sweeping away the last vestiges of rationale. A wail of grief, from the core of her very soul, tore its way through her to the surface. Her body failed her and she crumpled onto the stone flags.

Concerned hands reached for her. She opened her eyes, looking into the worried face of Governor Rieekan. Her perspective tilted again, disorienting her and she collapsed against him. He wrapped his arms round her then gently lifted her, cradling her like a child. He carried her inside, dispatching the stunned Commander to bring blankets, setting her down on the couch.

"I'm sorry," she murmured after a moment, her body shaking as she tried to sit up.

Rieekan pressed her shoulders firmly back down onto the couch, "For what, Ma'am."

"Being so stupid..." she said as he walked across to her desk pouring a glass of cold water.

"Never happened, Ma'am," he told her softly as he returned to the sofa, handing her the liquid. He waited until she had taken a sip then pulled a stern face. "How much sleep have you had over the past four days?" he demanded, gently. "Or food, for that matter?"

She shook her head slightly, unable to give him an answer. The Commander had returned, carrying the blankets. Rieekan stood, taking them, telling him, "Any calls that come in...."

But the Commander interrupted, "I'm sorry, Sir, but Mon Mothma is in deep discussion with yourself and cannot, unfortunately, be disturbed. I'll see to it that any messages left are given to her as soon as your meeting is over."

 Rieekan smiled, "Good man. See if you can find something to eat?"

"Straight away, Sir."

The klaxon still whooped its message. Luke stepped out onto the ledge, gazing round the immense semi-circular cavern of the main reactor area. The primary walkway ran round the outside edge, thirty feet above him, the nearest access door onto the walkway sixty degrees to his left. And that was where he would find the controls for an extending bridge across to the main reactor pile. The thud of running feet in the corridor behind him warned of approaching troops. He stepped out of the doorway, along the ledge, staying still and waiting to see if any were going to be stationed at the entrances. The thump of footfalls disappeared along the corridor. Luke waited a moment longer, just to be sure, scanning the area for any hidden traps.

Finally, when he thought it was safe to move, he opened himself to the strength of the Force, using it to steady himself as he ran lightly round the thin ledge towards the bridge controls. Stopping beneath the access door, he leapt, the energy his Jedi training tapped into letting him soar high into the air, catching an easy hold of the underside of the walkway. He dangled for a moment, then swung his legs, gaining momentum before swinging them up, letting go of the structure as he reached the top of the arc, sailing gracefully over the guard rail to land lightly on the grid metal floor plating.

Pausing again he listened for any signs of trouble, before turning, pressing the bridge controls, stepping onto the edge as it slid silently from beneath the walkway. It would have carried him halfway across the gap, but he didn't wait. Instead he moved back, taking a short run, using the power that coursed through him to leap the distance across to the other bridge that moved slowly towards him, running along the still extending link to the reactor.

His target area lay another fifty feet below. Lying down he slid over the edge of the platform until he was hanging by his fingers. The reactor casing tapered away from him, but there was another, small ledge running just above the area he wanted. Swinging his legs again, he let go, impetus throwing him in towards the ledge, drawing once again on the Jedi source to slow his descent as he dropped. His hand snagged the ledge, tugging him to a stop.

Reaching into the pockets of the belt with his other hand, he retrieved the Time-delay devices, placing them on the ledge, setting the timer. Taking the first one, he pressed the remote activation switch, then reached down, securing it to the side of the reactor. Shuffling along the ledge with his fingers he did the same with five others, then pulled himself up. There was just enough room to stand on his toes. Carefully he reached down, lifting the remaining three, securing them to the reactor, equidistant, above him. Easing himself back round to below the platform he dug out a length of rope that had a small grappling hook attached to one end. Sweeping it up, he guided it outwards, dropping it onto the platform above him, then swung out. Pausing to gauge the swing, he pulled himself hand over hand, moving steadily upwards.

He grasped the edge of the platform, drawing himself up. Then retrieved the hook before racing across the bridge, back towards the access door. Half way across he reached out, visualising the controls, using the Force to activate the switch. Silently, the span folded in  behind him.

Where in all hells was he? Time was beginning to get tight!

Leia stopped. Calming herself, slowing her breathing she concentrated, stretching out through the Force and the link that bonded her to her twin, to find him. He was three, maybe four, floors below her, moving back towards the hanger area. Well away from the centre of the station and the explosives he had set. Reassured, she checked her bearings, then moved on to intercept him.

Luke slowed to a stop at an intersection, checking quickly round the corner. A platoon of stormtroopers stood, guarding an elevator entrance. Luke pulled back. Visualising the elevator doors he reached out quickly through the Force, activating the call button. Moments later he heard the door open, listening to the shuffle of feet as they turned. Quickly, he crossed the corridor.

"There he is! You! Halt!"

Luke swore and took off along the corridor, reaching inside his tunic for his lightsabre. Blaster fire ricochetted around him covering him with debris as he ducked, swerving along the corridor as he ran. He skidded to a halt, about to turn down another passageway, rapidly changing his mind as a squad of stormtroopers pounded down it towards him. Twisting away, he continued down the corridor, thumbing the lightsabre on. Focusing his concentration he called out silently to his sister.

Leia. Help

 Three floors above him, Leia hesitated, suddenly getting a strong feeling that something was wrong, that Luke was in trouble. Gathering everything she had learnt of the Force she reached out, sensing his presence again, the anxiety that he radiated. She started to run. Turning into another hallway, trying to find the quickest way to him, she almost collided with a grey uniformed officer. Catching hold of his jacket, she demanded, "Skywalker?"

"He's been seen two decks below...."

 She shoved him ahead of her, "Take me!"

 Blaster fire sizzled past Luke, hitting the wall ahead, sending fiery sparks of liquified metal towards him. Instinctively he pulled his arm up to cover his eyes, dropping to the floor, rolling, coming back to his feet at a run. Leia was close by, her presence growing ever stronger. With any luck she'd be waiting for him round the next bend.... Luke slid to a halt as two stormtroopers stepped out in front of him at the end of the passage, bringing their rifles to bear. He risked a glance behind. The others were closing in and, he realised with a pang of trepidation, there was no-where to go. This was going to be tricky, he thought, wryly. The two stormtroopers fired. Luke fended off the bolts with the lightsabre.

“Luke!" Leia's voice screamed in his head. Then she appeared, behind the two troopers, her rifle already aimed at him. In a sudden flash of understanding, as she shoved first one, then the other man onto the floor with a foot in their back, he lowered the lightsabre slightly. Leia squeezed on the trigger, aiming for Luke's heart. He flashed her a grin, letting her know that he understood. Satisfied that he knew her aim, she fired. He moved slightly to the side as the rifle discharged its load, deflecting the bolt deliberately to hit him high on the shoulder. He allowed the blow push him round, letting the lightsabre fall from his hand at the last moment as he crashed to the floor.

Turning the corner, slightly behind the bounty hunter who had raced ahead as they heard blaster fire, the officer saw Skywalker. His escape was cut off this end by two stormtroopers, another squad pounding towards them from the other end, blocking Skywalker in. Astounded, he watched as the bounty hunter kicked the two stormtroopers to the ground out of the way, aiming his own rifle at the Rebel Colonel. Skywalker had no chance, his weapon no match for the bounty hunter's. Bouush fired at almost point blank range. The Colonel jerked, spinning round as the laser bolt hit him, throwing him to the floor. He landed on his side, momentum pushing him along the floor for a few feet and onto his back. He tried, once, to get up. Then he lay still.

Keeping the rifle trained on the Rebel, the bounty hunter walked over, scooping up the man's fallen weapon, clipping it onto his belt. There was a moment's awed silence, then the officer moved. Blood smeared a stain along the floor where the Rebel had landed. "We'll take him from here," he informed the bounty hunter.

Bouush looked up at him, slowly, "And let him escape, again?" He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. Holding out an armour-gloved hand to the Platoon Commander, he demanded, "Binders?" One of the squad stepped forward, handing over a set. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, the bounty hunter bent down, flipping the Rebel onto his front. Then put a knee in his back, wrenching his arms up, securing them none too gently, behind his back, at the wrists. The Colonel moaned. Standing, the bounty hunter reached down for Skywalker's uninjured arm, dragging him to his feet.

"I will take him to the detention block! Alone! You will tell Anjouk"

The Imperial officer had, at first, opened his mouth to protest. But now the whole idea made perfect sense to him. "You can take Colonel Skywalker to the detention block," he agreed, "alone. I will inform the Grand Moff." He motioned the rest of the stormtroopers out of the way. They all moved back against the wall as the bounty hunter shoved the Rebel forward towards the nearest vacuum elevator.

Gabhaan's X©wing dropped into normal space, taking up position behind Jomanock, checking for the third member of the team directly to his left. The Millennium Falcon soared into view. "All wings check in!" Jomanock ordered.

Gabhaan pressed the transmit switch, "Red Three, standing by."

Jomanock listened as one by one the X-wing pilots acknowledged their presence. Looping the Falcon round, Han watched the Y-wings appearing in formation behind the T-65s. Closely followed by A-wings.

Content that all of his wings were present, Jomanock ordered, "Lock foils in attack position." He leant forward, activating the switch, grinning as he heard the low rumble of His own fighter's foils extending, the slight thump as they locked open. "Switch to strike frequency," he directed, flipping the radio switch. "Falcon, X-wings accounted and ready to go."

"Roger that, Red Two. Standby."

"Falcon," another voice crackled, "Y-wings accounted and ready."

"Roger that, Gold Leader..... On my mark..."

Anjouk strode out of his office onto the Command Deck. Yommo straightened up from the console, turning away from the young Commander towards him, "Sir, enemy ships dropping out of hyperspace at point four-five, running in towards us."

"Type?"

"No larger class vessels as of yet, Sir. All small fighters or bombers, X, Y and A-wing class."

Anjouk frowned. So they were, after all, sending glow-worms against a caamilaed.... He smiled, coldly. They must truly be mad. He turned, "Battle stations!" Then, almost as an after-thought, he ordered, "And launch our fighters."

Luke sank against the wall of the lift as the door closed, Leia ordering it to take them to the landing bay. His shoulder burned viciously, stabbing needles of pain across his chest and down his arm. He closed his eyes, face pale, perspiration beading his forehead. Leia touched him lightly on the other shoulder. He opened his eyes, sensing her concern, assuring her, "I'm fine..."

She nodded, briefly inspecting the wound, then unhooked the lightsaber from her belt, pressing it into his hand. He took it, asking, "How are we doing?"

"Running out of time. But not too bad," she told him, relieved that the fabricate voice filtered out the worry she could hear in her own ears. He nodded, closing his eyes again. The elevator slowed towards a halt and he pushed himself upright, Leia grasping hold of his good arm, positioning herself slightly behind him.

The elevator doors opened. Bouush hurriedly pushed Skywalker across the
hanger towards the ship.

Leia jumped, the breath catching in her throat as an alarm klaxon pierced through the hanger. "Full Alert. Full Alert. All personnel to Battle Stations," a male voice demanded. "This is not a drill. All personnel to Battle Stations."

Chewbacca brayed at them from the hatch of the ship. Leia helped Luke run the last few feet to the ramp. Chewie had already disappeared into the flight deck as they ran inside, Leia slapping at the hatch switch, listening to it hiss shut behind her. She stopped briefly, looking at Luke, who waved her away.

"Master Luke!" Threepio began, voice relieved and cheerful as Artoo beeped at them excitedly. "Oh my, and to think that Bouush was on our side after all..."

Leia sank into the co-pilot's seat, ripping off Bouush's helmet, reaching for the radio.

The fighters swept across the surface of the Death Star, strafing it, dancing round the laser fire the gun emplacements spat at them. A Y-wing, seconds too slow, took the full force of one of the blasts, exploding into the surface. Han winced. On the far side of the station, just above the horizon, an X-wing died in a blaze of flame. The B-wings manoeuvred around the TIE launch bays, A-wings behind. Han watched as the first Imperial fighters died in blasts of fire before they'd even cleared the bays. A single TIE made it, soaring away, A-wing tight on his tail. One B-wing stayed still too long, trying to line up another shot, and disintegrated in a brief explosion of fire as the station's surface batteries locked onto him...

The radio crackled into life. "Jabba, this is Yavin Four. Jabba this is Yavin Four, do you read?"

"Yavin Four, Jabba, go ahead!" Han ordered, relieved to hear Leia's voice, anxiety still wound round his guts. He glanced across at Medith, seeing his own concern mirrored on her face.

"Jabba, mission accomplished. Mission accomplished. We're coming out!"

Relief swept through him and he grinned, "Roger that, Yavin! We're waiting! Falcon to all flights, Cargo running out. All flights, Cargo running out!"

"Sir, we're picking up an unauthorised transmission from inside the station."

 Anjouk strode across to the console, "Where?"

"Deck eleven, section...."

"Sir," another officer broke in, "Commander Larre reports the bounty hunter's ship starting engines without clearance!"

"The transmission was from the same area, Sir."

"That ship is not to leave!" Anjouk ordered. What little games have you been playing, Bouush, he thought, turning to another officer. "Why aren't the Rebels ships being destroyed, Major?"

"They're moving too fast for our defences to get a lock on them, Sir. We're having to randomly target. And our fighters are being destroyed as soon as they launch. We have ninety percent casualties..."

"What is their target?"

"There doesn't appear to be one, Sir. They're simply strafing the surface..."

The Grand Moff turned towards the observation window. What could they possible hope to gain....

"Sir, the tractor controls are off line! We can't hold the bounty hunter's ship!"

Anjouk crossed his arms, mentally noting to have that engineer transferred out of his command, anger building coldly inside him, "Track that ship, Commander and blow it out of my sky!"

Luke propped himself against the door of the flight deck, watching the troops running towards them. The picture tilted, swinging round as Chewbacca lifted the ship from the deck, turning it towards the mouth of the hanger. Small thuds sounded against the hull as they stormtroopers started firing. Chewbacca growled deep in his throat, pouring on power, chuckling slightly as the ship shot forward.

A pair of X-wings sliced past their nose, Leia throwing up her hands instinctively. Chewbacca growled. Three pairs of B-wings headed towards them, followed by a pair of A-wings, dropping in around the ship, ushering them through the melee. Then the Millennium Falcon soared in, cutting round the back to settle beside them.

Luke opened his mind, gathering the Force. Visualising the timing mechanisms on the explosives crowded round the central reactor core, he reached out. The pain from his shoulder smashed against his concentration. He fought through it, the power of the Force flowing from his mind, expanding within him, drowning everything as he took command. He lifted his hand, closing it into a fist.

One by one the detonators sprang to life, timers winding slowly down.

"Leia!" he warned, the word a strangled gasp as he let go of his control over the Force, the pain crashing in again. Sheer will power kept him standing upright as Leia glanced at him. "The explosives are active..."

 She turned back, keying the mike, "Han, get everyone out of here!"

"Copied!" he told her. "All flights. Break! Break! Break! Regroup and retreat! All flights regroup and retreat!"

"Sir, the Rebel ships are breaking off!"

"What?"

"They're breaking off the attack, Sir, falling back."

"Do you have a lock on the Bounty Hunter?"

"We did for a brief moment, Sir, but there's too many others round it now!"

"Damn it to all hells, target all of them, man!" Anjouk spat, rounding on him, eyes blazing. "Commence primary ignition! This station is capable of destroying whole planets! Take them all out now that they're regrouping to one position, damn you!"

"Yes... yes, Sir."

Luke turned, moving unsteadily out of the flight deck, using the wall as a support. Threepio jumped to his feet as he saw him, "Master Luke? Oh, Master Luke...."

"Threepio," Luke asked, voice grating pain, "help me." The droid shuffled hurriedly towards him and Luke draped an arm around him, steadying himself against him as they moved back through the cabin towards the cell area. Stretching out once more, he manipulated the Force, activating the doors for the concealed compartment. Lando was already on his feet as Luke reached the cell. He rushed across, "What the hells happened?"

"Long story," Luke said, attempting a smile, making the mistake of moving away from Threepio. He stumbled, his shoulder slamming against the wall, sending a crescendo of pain across his chest, down his arm. Lando caught him, easing him gently to the floor as the gold protocol droid looked on in dismay. Propping him against the wall Lando moved back towards the compartment for some medi-paks. "How's Wedge?" Luke asked, weakly.

"Better than he was, but not good."

Luke leant his head back against the wall, Lando dropping to his knees beside him.

"Primary ignition complete, Sir. We will be ready to fire in twenty seconds..."

The station shuddered. Anjouk turned, indignant uneasiness moving swiftly towards a savage fear that twisted at the base of his spine. Alarm bells shrieked, red lights beginning to flash across the ranks of consoles. "Sir..." the terror in the man's voice was unmistakable, "Massive explosive failure...."

The deck trembled violently, pitching Anjouk and his staff to the floor. A deep, dreadful rumble that Anjouk felt, rather than heard, expanded towards him. The scream of metal tearing itself apart filled his ears with a wall of sound that crushed him to the floor. Flames erupted from the consoles. "How?...." he thought. There was a brief, impossible, impression of stars above him. Then the Death Star convulsed, shattering into an explosion of violent, searing light.

"All wings, brace for impact!" Han yelled into the mike.

 Leia turned, shouting back into the ship, "Brace yourselves!"

The paroxysm raced outwards, overtaking the Rebel ships, tossing them forwards in a wave of noise and heat. The Falcon bucked, Medith almost landing on the floor. In the bounty ship the blast knocked Threepio off his feet, throwing Lando against the wall, Luke toppling over onto the floor. Wedge moaned softly at the movement. Fighters and bombers slammed forward, juddering. Light debris rapped against hulls, then swept past them.

"Damage reports?" Han demanded as the surge continued away from them.

"Gold eight, I'm losing an engine, Sir. Debris in the starboard intake."

"Red three, same here, Sir," Gabhaan told him tightly, cursing his luck.

"Red two-one, Sir, think my Artoo's had it."

"Blue one-five.... I'm losing it here, Sir. I think I'm gonna have to bang out!"

Han heard the sizzle of sparks behind the transmission. "Blue one-five, if you need to eject, I'll bring you on board."

"Standby...."

"Blue one-five," another voice said, "You've lost half your tail plane!"

"One-five, get out," Han ordered, "I'll pick you up."

"Roger that, Sir! Banging out now!"

"Can the rest of you guys make it?" Han asked as Medith manoeuvred the Falcon.

"If someone gives me the co-ordinates at each jump, no problem," Red Two-one
answered.

"I've got enough power to punch into hyperspace," Gabhaan told him.

"I can make the jump," Gold Eight echoed.

"Fine. Chewie, everything okay over there?"

"We're fine, General," Leia answered. In other ships jaws dropped open, eyes widening in surprise as pilots recognised her voice.

"Red Two?" Han asked.

"Sir," Jomanock answered, recovering quickly from realising that the Princess had to have been one of the "agents"... Well I'll be damned.....

"Stay with Gabhaan and the others. Make sure they get back."

"Yes, Sir."

The Falcon had eased to halt above Blue One-five. "Then I suggest you all get
out of here now, in case we get company."

Luke sighed, the pain killer kicking in, the dressing Lando was applying soothing the hurt. "Leia shot you?" Lando asked again, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Ingenious, actually," Luke said, turning his head towards his sister as she walked through the door. "Either she took me down, or a squad of stormtroopers did. Her aim I prefer!"

 Leia smiled, dropping to the floor beside him, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, "Honestly."

"We've just jumped into hyperspace. How's Wedge?"

"Not good," Lando admitted, "I'll be a lot happier when he's in a medi-unit."

Leia rose, moving across to look down at Wedge. The bruising stood out darkly against the pale pallor of his skin. Bright, white dressings covered his lower arms and part of his chest, just below the collar bone. "Burns?" she asked, quietly.

"Standard Imperial interrogation technique...." Luke said, bitterly.

Leia sat on the floor, reaching out to brush the hair away from Wedge's forehead, seeing for the first time the needle marks below his inner elbows. "They used the mind probe," she told the two others, softly, "At least, I think they did." Instinctively she rubbed her own arm, just where the needle marks had been...

She heard movement behind her. Luke touched her on the shoulder and she looked round, giving him a sad smile, kissing him lightly on the cheek, "You do not badly at rescuing people from Imperial detention cells."

He grinned, the old Luke returning now that the pain of his injury had receded, "You ended up rescuing me, if I remember rightly!"

Her smile this time, as she blushed, was genuine, "Mmm," she admitted. "The walking carpet episode. I remember."

 Lando quietly left the cell, moving back to the flight deck.

"I really couldn't stand Han then... strange how things turn out." She frowned, shaking her head in wonder, "And of all the people to turn up, you three did. And Ben... I've often thought about how differently things would have turned out if the Tantive hadn't been attacked when it was..."

Someone was talking at the edge of his consciousness. Wedge's eyes fluttered open. The pain was gone, he felt as if he was floating. There was movement beside him, someone calling his name. He turned his head. Luke smiled at him, the smile not quite wiping away the concern in his eyes, "How you doing?"

Something wasn't right, he felt strange, as if he wasn't really there. The drugs, his mind told him. "Fine," he murmured.

Luke grinned, "We'll have you back home as soon as we can," he promised.

There was someone standing behind Luke. At first Wedge had thought it was the Princess, but then he'd realised that Leia was sitting beside Luke. And now that he looked more closely at the other woman, he saw that the long dark hair fell in waves across her shoulders, rather than the curtain of silk that hung round Leia. JavraH...? But it couldn't be! She was dead, he'd seen her killed, could still feel the waxy touch of her skin against his fingers.... She smiled at him, her orange flight suit pristine, the white over-vest almost glowing... and yet there was a smudge of soot across her cheek. Slowly she lifted her hand, reaching out towards him, palm upwards.

And suddenly everything made complete sense. He was going home, he realised, but it wasn't Luke who would take him.

There was something he needed to do first. He turned his attention back to the young Jedi, "Luke..." Luke slipped his good arm beneath Wedge's shoulders, lifting him slightly, cradling his head in the crook of his elbow: bending close to hear Wedge's murmured words. "JavraH... they tortured... her.... to make me... talk..."

Luke stared at Wedge in horror, hearing the small moan from Leia. They had all thought JavraH dead when her X-wing exploded. It had never occurred to them that she had survived. This only made the reality of what Wedge had endured all the more harrowing. Wedge was saying something again and Luke bent close, "Wedge, I didn't hear you."

"...killed her... she deserves to... be... remembered...."

Wedge looked past Luke at the slight figure of JavraH. She was still smiling, but she closed her eyes in acknowledgement of what he had done. He returned the smile. Tight agony ripped at his arm, slowly creeping up towards his shoulder and he gasped. Then relaxed into it, comforted by the sensation. He couldn't remember what it was like not to be in pain and the lack of it had been.... disquieting. JavraH was still watching him, the expression on her face calmly reassuring. He looked back at Luke, remembering everything they had been through with crystal clarity - from their first meeting in the war rooms of the Massassi base on Yavin, to the emotional celebration on Endor when Luke had arrived alive and well after the destruction of the Death Star: marvelling at how he had managed to find friendship like this. And he realised that he didn't want to leave: wanted just a little more time. But his body was failing him, darkness already beginning to tinge the edge of his vision. And he was so tired... he just wanted to rest. He had done everything that he could. And if the darkness claimed him he would never be able to betray his friends again...

 A flare of pain crushed briefly across his chest. He closed his eyes, finally at peace, knowing that they would arrive too late, this time, to question him: letting himself slip gently into JavraH's delicate embrace.

Luke heard the slight intake of breath: felt the infinitesimal tremble in the Force. Wedge collapsed slowly against him. Luke frowned, at first not realising what had happened. Then refusing to accept it. "No," he breathed, "No... Wedge, please... No!" Not after all that he had gone through... he couldn't die. He wouldn't die. Don't do this to me.... please... no...

His throat had clogged. He couldn't move. He held Wedge in his arms, staring at his friend's face, unable to do anything but hold him. There was a small moan from Leia and she reached out to brush Wedge's cheek with the back of her fingers. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks. She crawled away, sitting against the wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped round herself.

Acceptance finally pushed its way into Luke's numb mind. He hugged Wedge tightly, hands pulled into fists, allowing the tears to cloud his vision. "Wedge..." he murmured, softly, "Wedge..." There was movement at his side and he looked up at Lando. He opened his mouth to tell Calrissian that Wedge had left them, but the constriction in his throat choked him and the only sound that came was a sob.

Lando looked across at Leia, at the tears streaming down her face. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Stunned, Lando turned, walking slowly back to the flight deck. He stumbled against the chair, falling into it. Chewbacca looked at him, frowning. "Chewie," he began, not knowing how to tell the Wookiee, finally blurting out, "Wedge has..."

Chewbacca had thrown himself out of the chair before Lando could finish, rushing through the cabin towards the cell. Stopping abruptly at the door. Leia sat at the back, head on her knees, her shoulders shaking, sobbing quietly. Luke sat in the open compartment, Wedge clutched in his arms, knuckles white. Chewbacca stepped into the cell, moving towards Luke. He knelt across from him, gently prising his arms away from Wedge, slipping an arm behind the dead pilot's shoulders and below his knees, lifting him away from Luke. He stood up carefully, then turned, tenderly carrying Wedge's body through to the cabin, laying him on the small cot. The young pilot's face was peaceful, a slight smile on his lips. Chewbacca stood looking at him for a moment, then pulled a blanket from the overhead locker, covering Wedge's body: as was the human custom. Threepio stood in silence. Artoo mewled pitifully and Threepio rested a hand gently on the little droid's dome. Chewbacca moved back to the cell. But Luke and Leia were in each other's arms, mourning together. He turned, leaving them to their grief, moving back to the flight deck. Emotion tightened in his chest, but he would not mourn the loss now. He would celebrate Wedge Antilles' memory later.

The hanger echoed with cheering, shouted greetings and laughter as canopies opened and pilots and ground crew celebrated. Han grinned as he walked down the ramp of the Falcon, Medith and Blue One-five close at his heels. A pilot rushed across throwing her arms round One-five, catching hold of Medith, spinning them round, embracing them before disappearing. Medith laughed, looking across at One-five, who grasped her hand, tugging her into the fray. A young ground technician grabbed Han, planting her lips against his cheek, before being dragged away by another pilot. Solo shook his head, watching the revelry as he strode across to Leia's ship. The hatch was open, Chewbacca standing at the top of the ramp.

Han's grin widened and he began to run. But as he neared, Chewie saw him, loping down the ramp towards him and the shadow across the Wookiee's face told him that something was dreadfully wrong... Leia, he thought, his heart constricting. He raced the few feet to the Wookiee. "What happened, is Leia okay? Is it Luke?"

Chewbacca rumbled at him to shut up, taking his arm, guiding him quickly into the ship. Lando leant against the bulkhead, staring blindly at the floor. Han turned, opening his arms as Leia, her face stained with tears, stood up, rushing across to him, burying her face against his chest. Relief washed through him like agony as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. But if it wasn't Leia...

Luke was sitting on the edge of the cot, head bowed, Threepio and Artoo standing silently beside him. His tunic was ripped, a pressure bandage bright against his shoulder. And behind him, covered with a blanket... Han looked at Chewie, "Wedge?" The Wookiee nodded.

"We got him out," Lando said, his voice heavy with bitterness and disbelief. "He walked off that damned thing under his own power.... then, on the way back..." He trailed off, slamming the wall with his fist. Then pushed himself upright, disappearing past Han and Leia into the flight deck.

"His heart gave out," Luke explained, quietly.

Someone was walking through the hatch. Han looked round, to see Ackbar and two of his aides stepping onto the ship, medical droids following with a gurney. The Admiral took in the scene, feeling the grief that hung heavily in the air, seeing the blanket-covered body behind Skywalker and the droids. Then asked simply, "How do you wish to do this?"

Leia turned to him, confused, "What..?"

"The hanger out there is crowded with men and women celebrating this victory. They do not yet know what it has cost."

 Leia turned to Han, panicking slightly. But Luke had risen, pulling the blanket away from Wedge's face. He looked down at him for a moment, hearing Leia's soft moan. But he had no tears left. He bent, lifting Wedge effortlessly in his arms, cradling his friend's body against his chest, like a child. He turned, walking down the cabin, stopping in front of the Admiral. Ackbar gave him one, simple nod of understanding, then moved towards the hatch. Luke followed.

The cheer from the assembled personnel echoed deafeningly round the hanger as Ackbar appeared. Then died towards stillness as he said nothing, silently walking down the ramp. Behind him Colonel Skywalker stepped out of the ship, obviously wounded, his face blank with grief: Lieutenant-Colonel Antilles, draped in a blanket, lying in his arms. Everyone had known Red Leader was being held on the Death Star. Everyone knew that he had been the cargo that was to be brought back to safety. The whisper started at the front, rushing quickly to the back.

"No..." Gabhaan moaned softly, closing his eyes. Jomanock reached out to grasp his elbow, steadying him, fighting down his own anger and sorrow: and guilt. Medith reached for One-five's hand, feeling the answering pressure of his fingers.

The Princess Leia emerged behind Skywalker, General Solo holding her close, her distress obvious even through her silent, graceful composure. The crowd parted, leaving a corridor for them to walk freely to the exit, everyone pulling their backs straight, standing rigidly to attention in respect.

Ackbar walked forward, Skywalker following. Leia tightened her arm round Han's waist, feeling his answering grip on her shoulder as they walked down the ramp and across the hanger behind Luke. Chewbacca remained at the top of the ramp. He tilted his head back, filling his lungs with air. Then roared his anguish.

Medith turned, burying her face against One-Five's chest. Instinctively he put an arm round her, holding her. Gabhaan found the strength to remain on his feet, swallowing down the tears, the Wookiee's lamentation piercing his soul. He turned to Jomanock. The Commander's face was stark white against the orange of his flight suit. Gabhaan grabbed his arm, telling him hoarsely, "I need a drink."

Jomanock nodded slowly, letting Gabhaan lead him through the crowd.