Ayse anchored the stand of the field blaster into the snow above the trench as Collim dropped down beside him, steadying the heavy weapon against his knee. To their left another two soldiers were also readying a field blaster. Further to the left the spherical array of a gun tower tracked the distant horizon. The rest of the squad were carrying weapons and boxes of charge packs along the trench, dropping them at set intervals. Collim opened his mouth to talk to Ayse, but a vague, indistinct sound pulled his attention away. Lieutenant Seaholder was gazing out across the snow towards the North Ridge. Collim followed his gaze, seeing a mist that seemed to be rolling slowly towards them. More soldiers began to hear the noise, all of them turning to look towards the Ridge. Collim lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, squinting against the glare. He could see now that it wasn’t mist, more like some sort of snowstorm. Dread settled heavily in his stomach as he began to place the sound.

“Sarge...?” Ayse began slowly. Collim ignored him, straining to see across the snow.

Seaholder had also recognised the sound. Icy tendrils of fear twisted down his spine and into his guts as he watched and waited. It couldn’t be... because if it was, there was no way any of his men would survive this battle.

Finally they appeared, small dots against the backdrop of the cloud of snow. And he still refused to believe it. Behind him he heard Sergeant Enric yelling for the squads to take their place. The sound from the North Ridge was drowned out as the soldiers rushed to take up position, bringing their rifles to bear. Seaholder reached for his electrobinoculars, pulling the dots into focus... and his worst suspicions were confirmed. All Terrain-Armoured Transports!

He dropped the binos, “Echo station Three-TA, we have spotted Imperial walkers.” And the Gods help us all.

The hangar filled with the sound of engines spooling upwards as pilots and gunners ran for their snowspeeders. Above the noise two X-wing fighters lifted, swinging slowly in unison towards the hangar entrance, gliding gracefully across the bustle below. Arms crossed across her chest, Ryinne Larne watched them go, then turned her attention back to hangar. Heart in her mouth she watched, worrying for nothing, as one by one the T-47’s burst into life and none of the crews shouted about any sort of problem. As soon as their speeders lifted, the ground crews turned their attention towards their respective fighters, running across the hangar.

Ryinne followed them as the last T-47 lifted. The Deck Officer intercepted her, “New orders, Flight. Your X-wings are to be taken outside to these co-ordinates, just incase the damned Walkers bring down the roof.” He looked up, scanning the ice roof instinctively, then turned back to her, “ Pilots were informed as they took off.”

Taking the pad he offered her, she smiled. “Thanks, Arin.” She started to walk away, then turned back, “Arin?”

The Deck Officer stopped, looking round, “Yeh?”

“Don’t wait too long.”

He grinned, “That goes double for you!”

She smiled again, then turned, concentrating on the map he had given her as she jogged across the hangar. The first of the lifting equipment was moving in, the tech on the roof of the X-wing slowly guiding the Artoo unit towards the droid’s niche. Below, another tech was disconnecting a coolant pipe.

The Chief was closing a belly hatch, “Any problems?” Ryinne asked.

Yzzi shook her head, “None. Everything going to plan.”

“Good,” Ryinne nodded, “Once you’re locked and loaded get the rest of your crew to their transports. And there’s a change of plan, the X-wings are to be taken to a rendezvous point outside, so dress warm. Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Will do, Flight,” the woman acknowledged, then looked up at the tech, yelling, “Why the hells haven’t you got that droid loaded yet?”

“Attack pattern Delta!” Luke ordered, “Go now!”

Soaring past one of the Imperial walkers, the speeders broke into two pairs, Hobbie slightly to the left of Luke, his wingman dropping in behind him. Below them the Imperial walkers headed towards the ground troops’ trenches, laser fire arching between both sides. Half way round the loop, Hobbie pulled up, letting Luke take the lead walker and setting up his own approach for the second AT-AT.

“Vector set, Hobbie!” his gunner told him, “We’re locked and loaded.”

“Copied, Zsimin. Standby.” He risked a glance to his left, straining to see how close the Imperial fire was getting to the ground troops. In his ear piece he heard Luke announce that he was starting the attack run. Hobbie turned his attention back to his targeted AT-AT, flipping open the firing catch, “Pay back time!”

Aiming to track between the legs of the walker, mirroring Luke Skywalker’s flight path he pressed the trigger. The AT-AT rushed towards him, his laser fire bouncing harmlessly off it’s armoured hull. Hobbie swore, the Imperial machines lumbering on towards the ground troops, oblivious to the Rebel firepower. Sweeping below the walker, Hobbie pulled up and round, following the Delta pattern to set up a secondary attack head to head with the AT-AT. Laser fire from the trenches swept past him, impacting on the surface of the walkers without damage. The AT-AT’s answering fire was not so harmless.

All the way down the approach, Hobbie kept his finger on the firing button, willing the walker ahead to explode... crash... stop... anything. But the damned thing kept going, spitting its own venom in retaliation. For a moment the bulk of the walker blocked the light, then they were passed and heading away. Hobbie pulled the nose up, yanking the speeder round, checking his five o’clock for his wingman who, mercifully, was still with him. “Zsimin,” he demanded, “where’s the Boss?”

“Dunno! I lost him on that last run... Wait... He’s fine! Pulling away from the lead walker now!”

As if on cue Skywalker’s voice crackled over the radio, “Hobbie, you still with me?”

The com unit on the far wall rang gently. Benn Galin winced, shooting a look at Shahr who shrugged. Benn took another forkful of food, then pushed himself away from the table, striding across the room to the unit. He punched the button, “Hello?”

On the view screen Laruna grinned at him, “Benn, you old tart! I’m in town for a few days on business. I was wondering if I could visit with you and that adorable young wife of yours at some point?”

Benn forced a smile. “In town on business” meant that something was wrong, something too serious to risk on an open coms channel, “Sure you can, honey,” he told her, “In fact we’re just about to eat. Want to join us?”

“For Shahralin’s cooking,” she sighed, “I would do almost anything…”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you?”

“Hotel Caradiz! I can be down in the foyer in about… oh… ten minutes.”

“I’m on my way! Just don’t walk off with any strange men before I get there - like last time!”

She blew him a kiss, “I won’t. I promise!” Then she shouted, “See you later Shahr!”

The screen went blank. Benn turned, deep in thought, wondering what in the hells had gone wrong. Shahr was already moving towards the door, “You go get her. I’ll start the pre-checks on Mirabael – just in case.” He nodded, following her out of the door, slowly beginning to get a real bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Rogue Group, use your harpoons and tow cables. Go for the legs, it may be our only chance of stopping them!”

“No shit!” Zsimin quipped at Luke’s order.

“Stow it!” Hobbie snapped back at him, sluing the nose of the speeder round to line up the walker, “Target acquired, Min. It’s all yours!”

“Roger that, targeting now... just keep it coming, Hobbie.” The walker’s head turned towards them, laser fire slicing past them. Hobbie jinked the speeder out of the way as a stream of laser bolts strayed too close. “Steady...” Zsimin murmured from the back, “Steady... steady... Harpoon away!” Hobbie flipped the snowspeeder, intending to circle round the legs of the walker.

“Damn it!”

“What?”

“I missed...”

Hobbie swore, pulling the nose of the snowspeeder up, soaring away from the walker, gaining height. “Reel it back in. We’ll give it another go...”

The speeder flipped up and sideways as a blast slammed into the nose. Sparks rippled momentarily across the instruments. Hobbie yelped, fighting with the controls, trying to keep the T-47 flying straight and level, unable to see clearly for the smoke that began pouring out of the nose and up over the canopy.

“Hobbie?” Zsimin yelled, twisting round to try and see his pilot, “Hobbie? You okay?”

“I’m fine! Can’t see a damned thing. Brace yourself, Min, I’m going to have to take her down.”

The smoke was getting thicker, small tendrils beginning to invade the cabin, the acrid taste clawing at his throat. Resisting the urge to start coughing, Hobbie dropped the speeder until it was flying only inches above the snow then, hoping there was nothing ahead of him, he dumped it onto the ground. It bounced slightly. Zsimin cursed and Hobbie’s stomach flipped. If he had got it wrong they could end up cart-wheeling over the snow.

The speeder hit the snow again, tail first, the nose following. They slid for a few heart-stopping moments, then the T-47 lurched to a sudden stop.

Zsimin was already opening the canopy, throwing the straps back off his shoulders. The smoke continued to pour from the nose, folding round Hobbie, suffocating and deadly. He held his breath, eyes streaming, fumbling with the catch as he tried to unlock the restraints. Someone pushed his hands away. He felt the catch fall away and pushed himself up as Zsimin grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the speeder.

They stumbled away from the burning snowspeeder, dropping onto the snow a few yards away, gasping for breath. Hobbie savoured the lungfuls of sharp, ice-cold air, then grinned at Zsimin, “Thanks!”

“No problem.” They both stood up, trying to get their bearings. Then they started running towards their waiting X-wings.

The X-wings had been lined up outside in the snow, far enough away from the base that they weren't an immediate target, close enough that the pilots didn't have too much difficulty getting to them. Flight Commander Engineering Ryinne Larne moved as fast as she could through the white powder, checking that her ground crews had readied every ship, ensuring that all Artoo units were in full working order, dispatching most of the crews towards the waiting transports as she checked their work. Finally only the Chief Techs were left with her, all the more junior personnel having been safely tucked away onto the ship that was just lifting ponderously from the ground.

Another snowspeeder sailed overhead, looping round, back into the fray. Then a second flashed past trailing smoke. Larne swore, "Hells, we'd only just got them working!" Yevl grinned at her turning back to watch the speeder as it dropped low, wobbling slightly in the turn, approaching the row of fighters.

"Straighten out, damn it!" Larne hissed, willing the pilot to hear her, grimacing as it landed in a spray of snow. The canopy opened, the pilots scrambling out, rushing across towards the X-wings. A couple of her Chiefs raced towards their respective fighters, two others following to help. The pilots, recognising their ground crews, angled in towards them.

Something slammed into the top of the snow dune behind them, showering them with ice, a second laser shot sailing clear and hitting the opposite bank. Larne grabbed the bino's from Yevl, running across the small plateau, scrambling up the side of the dune. Dropping onto her front as she reached the top, Larne dug her elbows into the snow, steadying the glasses, her breath catching in her throat as she watched the scene unfolding below. Two of the Imperial walkers lay in smoking ashes. The ground troops were frantically retreating against the onslaught of the remaining Imperial AT-ATs, the massive machines spitting laser fire as they ploughed onward from the North Ridge, mowing down the Rebel ground forces. As she watched a snowspeeder dared too close. The laser fire slammed it point blank range sending it hurtling away to explode in flames against a small rise. She closed her eyes, fighting down the panic and the tears. Goddess, what had they ever done to deserve this?

Someone touched her leg and she twisted round. Chief Tarras lay slightly below her in the snow. He held out a data pad to her, "Orders, Flight, just arrived from General Rieekan."

He slithered back down the rise as she took the pad, skimming through the contents. That was it then, even Rieekan believed that they weren't going to win this... All X-wings left without pilots were to be flown by their astromech droids to a second rendezvous point. They would be retrieved later. Pushing the scene on the other side of the rise to the back of her mind, she slid down towards the waiting crews.

The explosion shocked through the command centre, the sound deafening. Disorientated, Leia found herself on the floor, covered in debris and chunks of ice. She lay still for a moment, unsure of what had happened. Then someone was lifting part of a console off of her, "Your Highness? Princess, are you all right?" She nodded, beginning to get to her feet, but hands grasped her arms, lifting her. Through the smoke and ice particles she could dimly see the remains of the room. The lights surged back on, defining the chaos: debris everywhere, consoles destroyed or knocked over, part of the roof collapsed. Someone was yelling for a medical team.

Beside her, others were dragging at further pieces of wreckage. General Rieekan lay under a fallen console, a thin trickle of blood seeping from his mouth. Loole, one of the sergeants, shoved at part of a roofing panel as Elhen Anders reached beneath it to grab the inert body of Karth. Leia saw her look up at the Sergeant, then shake her head. Gently, Loole settled the panel back down. Anders looked round, seeing Leia, "Ma'am, Major General Karth is dead."

Leia nodded numbly.

Across the room, debris shifted and moved. Anders and Loole scrambled across and together they pulled Derlin out, lifting him to his feet. He looked round at the carnage, his gaze finally resting on the Princess, "Your Highness..." he began, shakily, knowing that if Anders or Loole let go of him he would end up back on the floor. Pain flared each time he tried to breathe.

"Make sure he's okay!" Leia told Anders then turned to the officer who had materialised at her side. Taking control, she asked, "What do we have left that's working?"

"Not a lot, Your Highness..." Reeis began, wiping away the blood that dripped from a cut on his forehead onto his cheek. The lights flickered, power fluctuating.

"Sensors are back up!" someone yelled.

"Clear what you can of this debris!" Leia ordered. "Get the wounded out to a transport..." She trailed off as she saw Rieekan's eyes flutter open then turned quickly back to Reeis, "I need to know what we've got left!" He nodded moving away as she dropped to her knees at Rieekan's side, taking his hand in her's. He turned his head to look at her, trying to speak. "Lie still, General," she told him, "We'll get you out as soon as we can."

The rumble of another explosion echoed through the hangar. Han and Chewbacca ignored it, intent on the final repairs to the Falcon. From the flight deck Han yelled, "I'm going to try it again, Chewie!" as he punched in a computer sequence. On the roof of the Falcon, Chewbacca watched in glee as his handiwork held. He reached for a hydrospanner… then stopped, listening intently as a young woman screamed for a medical team to go to the Command Centre.

The Wookiee moved, dropping lightly off the side of the Falcon, rushing towards the gangway, bellowing to his partner that it sounded as if the Command Centre had been hit. The Corellian appeared from the flight deck, his face tight with concern, "Command Centre?" He pushed past Chewie, running for the ramp, "That's where Leia is! Get the Falcon ready to go!"

Han rushed across the hangar floor. His heart felt as if it was clogging his throat and he ignored the reason for his behaviour, listening only to the anxious little voice in his head that told him the Leia could be dying. The thought of her broken body lying under tonnes of ice filed him with an unexpected horror. Pushing his way along the corridor in the opposite direction to almost everyone else, he pressed on.

Collim was running. The whine of the AT-ATs was so close behind him that it made his skin crawl. He could feel the Imperial soldiers lining him up in their gun sights. Ayse was running slightly ahead of him, the rest of the troop spread out to the left and the right. A speeder swept passed overhead, guns blazing. And then there was an explosion. Collim knew it was the speeder, the noise not loud or prolonged enough to be the Walker but Ayse turned, trying to watch and run at the same time. Collim pushed on a burst of speed, reaching out for the young idiot, shoving him forward, yelling, “Move, Gods damn you!”

Laser fire from the walker hit the snow just behind them, the concussion wave knocking the whole troop off their feet. Collim pushed himself off the snow almost as soon as he hit it, already scanning the rest of the soldiers, gauging the casualties. He reached Ayse, dragging the boy to his feet, holding him as they both began to run across the snow again. Seaholder was beside them, carrying someone across his shoulders. They sound of the walker was getting closer and, with a burst of frustrated anger, Collim realised that they weren’t going to reach the transport in time.

Ayse stumbled and fell, dragging the older man with him. Another laser blast hit the ground behind them, showering them in a cloud of snow and ice.

Coughing, Collim pushed himself back to his feet, hauling on Ayse’s jacket, ignoring the dark, spreading stain just below the shoulder. He glanced round as Ayse made it to his feet. Then he let him go, rushing across to where Seaholder and the other injured soldier lay motionless on the snow. Makin was still alive, his breathing shallow and irregular but Seaholder was dead, his neck broken. Collim grasped hold of Makin.

Something hit him. A burst of heat and pain lifted him off the ground throwing him sideways through the air. Then he felt himself tumbling, sliding across the snow. Surprised, he opened his eyes, trying to focus on the Imperial walkers across the plain as they took another step across the snow towards him. The sun was still shining, but there was no warmth in it and he was suddenly, terribly cold. The walkers took another ponderous step towards him, then another. Darkness shimmered at the edge of his vision, crossing it like a veil. He closed his eyes, wondering if Ayse would be okay.

Derlin tried not to wince as he moved across to another console, holding himself carefully, trying to protect what Leia suspected would turn out to be broken ribs. Rieekan had finally slipped back into unconsciousness as the medical personnel gently moved him onto the stretcher. "Ma'am?" Reeis' voice pulled Leia's attention away from the General, back to the matter at hand. "Ma'am, we've lost the main power generators. We're running on battery and I've no idea how long that will last. Enemy walkers are advancing from the North Ridge, heading for the Shield Generators. The first line of defence has gone, the ground troops are in retreat and we're taking heavy casualties. Sensors indicate that we may have Imperial troops advancing from the other side, but we can't get solid readings."

Leia swore softly. Most of the non-essential personnel would have evacuated by now, leaving only a skeleton staff. “Get everyone else out! Now! Before we lose the lights. Can we get to the wounded ground troops?"

"I doubt it Ma'am," Derlin said, joining them. "The walkers are taking everything out. The snowspeeders aren't able to destroy them fast enough. We don't have long before their ground troops reach the base."

Leia nodded, thinking fast. "Tell our troops at the Generator to hold as long as possible, then get themselves to safety." Reeis turned away to issue the orders, "How many transports do we have still to get out?" Leia asked Derlin.

"I'll find out, Ma'am."

Sergeant Loole began to gather people as Reeis moved on to another console. The few personnel left in the Command centre started to leave. Leia watched them go, fighting back the fear for their safety, pushing down the anxiety. If she let that get a hold of her she would be useless...

"The first group of speeders have pulled out, transferring to their fighters, Ma'am. We have four transports left, one of those just about to lift," Reeis reported.

"We can't hold out much longer, Your Highness."

Leia considered Derlin's words, chewing at her lip. She looked at the Major, then down at Reeis. "Ma'am," Derlin continued softly, "We can deal with this. I suggest you take the chance to leave now."

She looked at him aghast, "I will not leave here, Major, until I am sure that we have done everything we can!"

"Your Highness,” Reeis put in, “the Major has a point..."

She saw the look on their faces and relented, "Thank you for your concern. But I can't leave, not now." She turned her most dazzling smile on them, "However, as you pointed out, there's no reason for all of us to be here! Major Derlin, Major Tazhak and I can handle this"

Despite the gravity of the situation Derlin couldn't help but smile, admiring her manipulation of the situation using their own words. He turned to Reeis, "Get to your transport, Commander. I'll take over here."

"But... Sir, you're injured!"

"Transport!" Derlin told him, "Now!"

"Commander," Leia said quietly, "get to your transport. That's an order."

Reeis swallowed, then slid out of the seat, relinquishing it to Derlin, "Yes, Ma'am."

He started to walk away, then turned back, "Good luck."

The rain thudded off the roof of the speeder, hammering into the road ahead. Galin moved along easily, watching his speed, not wanting to get picked up by a patrol. Finally he pulled to a halt outside the Hotel Caradiz. A figure ran across the pavement, splashing through the puddles, towards him. The door opened and Laruna dropped into the seat beside him, the door closing automatically behind her. She threw her arms round him, giving him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek, then told him, “Drive away slowly. Take it easy. I think I’m being watched.”

Benn nodded, returning her kiss, unhappy with the whole situation but knowing that she wouldn’t put him or Shahr in danger if she thought she was in real trouble. He pulled out into the stream of traffic, asking quietly, “What’s up?”

“Norrin Pelaas is running with troops. Merrion’s blockaded and they’ve jammed the communications systems, otherwise I would have contacted you sooner. It took me nearly fifteen hours to convince them that I needed to get here and another four to get onto the only ship they were allowing to go. The only reason they let me out was that I persuaded the Governor that one of my dealers here was getting some unusual pieces and that I’d take him back a little something. I talked to Corvien before I talked to you and he’s going to come through for me – thank the force.”

He glanced at her, knowing better than to try pushing her to get to the point, “So what the hells is going on?”

“We’ve got real big problems, that’s what’s going on. I never heard from Seerzhe. They jammed the frequencies before she was supposed to make contact. I waited the forty-eight hours then started doing some checking. There was an incident the night she was supposed to arrive in the city. Some Imperial Commander was murdered, they think by Rebels. They killed one of the conspirators and detained the other. That was when all hell let loose…”

“But that was nearly four days ago!”

“I know! That’s what I mean. And they’re not letting anyone get any news out. The only reason I made it here is because of the Governor. And even then I’m sure I’m being watched. This whole thing has gone way off the track… And the really scary thing is that the Governor told me it was the great Lord Darth Vader who orchestrated the whole thing!” She shook her head in dismay, “If the Rebel they’ve got is Seerzhe then we’re going to have to do some real fast thinking.”

“She doesn’t know who I am,” Galin assured her, “She can’t give them any names.”

“Not us maybe. But what the fates does she know? Damn in, Benn, Vader set this up especially to get hold of someone. That’s a lot of time and a lot of effort. What could Seerzhe know that would be so important? What was she doing in Norrin Pelaas?”

Galin shook his head, “I have no idea, Laruna. But we’ve got to get this information to the Alliance.”
~ # # ~

"Hobbie, I've been hit!" Luke's voice called over the radio.

Wedge Antilles swore as he curved the snowspeeder round in a corkscrew twist, trying to keep one eye on the smoke belching from Luke's dying speeder. Flipping out of the turn he headed back towards the AT-AT, scanning the terrain for his friend's ship, jinking out of the way of the laser fire.

"There he is!" his gunner yelled in his earpiece.

"Where?"

"Right bang in front of that damned AT-AT!"

Wedge looped back, pulling back on the speed, cursing. The Imperial was too close, "Target it, Janson..." But his gunner was way ahead of him. Luke's canopy was open, Wedge could see movement at the side of the speeder. Laser fire sliced past his canopy and Wedge was forced to pour on the speed again, accelerating as he manoeuvred out of the AT-AT's reach. Swinging back round he caught sight of Luke diving away from the speeder as the Imperial Walker's foot crushed down onto the canopy.

Janson had his guns trained on the Walker throughout Wedge's tactic, continuing to fire at the AT-AT all the way round the loop. The Walker persisted, oblivious. Satisfied that Luke was, for the moment, safe, Wedge soared away, aiming for one of the smaller AT-STs that had just appeared, hoping that their shielding wouldn't be just as good. The biped reeled slightly under Janson's ministrations, but continued forward, laser cannon firing at the retreating ground troops. Behind them, the Walker that had crushed Luke's ship blew apart, crashing to the ground.

The speeder sliced past the AT-AT with feet to spare, Wedge hauling it round, lining up for another run. Janson's aim held true, finger never leaving the trigger. And the Walker remained standing. There was a massive explosion off to the left. Wedge risked a glance, seeing the main power generator erupting in flames and debris. Behind him, Janson swore. Wedge flipped the speeder round, heading towards the explosion, "Change of tactics, Janson! We're goin' to dive bomb them!"

"We're what?" Janson shrieked.

Wedge grinned, "Trust me."

"Ah, shit..." Janson groaned, "My mother warned me about people like you!"

"Shut up…." Wedge told him amiably. His body was pressed against the seat as he soared vertically upwards, stalling the machine and dropping down towards the Imperial targets, "…and line them up!"

A flash of blinding white light blasted the main power generator into a million flaming pieces and, instinctively, Larne ducked. She swore, scrambling back down the dune towards the fighters. Another two X-wing canopies were hissing closed, the first pilots already lifting their fighters from the ground. She caught hold of Tarras, "Your jockey's gone, get to the transport!" She turned to Yevl, "Your bird isn't even here! Get to the transport!"

"Flight..." Yevl began.

She cut him off, "The evacuation's been signalled! You heard it as well as I did! And the generator's just gone... Now get to the transport!"

Tarras glanced at Yevl, both Chiefs standing their ground, "With all due respect, Flight," Tarras told her, "we'll stick this one out until you go!"

She glared at them, eyes blazing. There was defiance mixed with the terror on their faces and she relented, knowing that arguing wasn't any good: knowing that their intent was well meant and touched by their concern... The stupid sons of a Bantha brained... "Fine," she snapped finally, flashing them an evil smile, "Both of you are busted back to Junior Grade! Go tell the Chiefs to get the hell out of here!"

Another speeder skidded gracefully to a halt, canopy opening. She recognised the pilot, running along the line of fighters towards Downhigher's X-wing as the pilot and her gunner tumbled out of the speeder. "Deefour!" Ryinne ordered, "Start up!" The droid burbled, beginning to run through the checks. Alissha reached her, scrabbling up the side of the fighter. The Flight pulled herself up after the pilot, "Everything's locked and loaded. Your Artoo's already starting the engines," she told her, strapping her in.

Alissha nodded, reaching for the checklist. Then grasped hold of the Larne's hand as she started back down the side of the fighter, "Don't wait too long, Flight..."

"I won't," Ryinne assured the younger woman with a grin, dropping back down into the snow. She stood, hands on her hips, until Downhigher's canopy locked forward, then she turned away towards the remaining fighters.

Alissha lifted her X-wing from the snow, swinging it round to head towards the transport she had been allocated to cover. At the edge of her vision she saw her wingman's fighter lift and follow her. She keyed the mike, "Rogue Ten, this is Rogue Five, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Skipper. Locked and ready."

"Stick close by, Gil. Don't do anything heroic!" she warned the Rookie.

"Copied, Skipper."

They were gliding over a small rise, the transport lying just ahead of them. Small dots moved across the snow towards it. "Slivix, this is Rogue Five, do you copy?"

"Rogue Five, this is the Slivix. The last of our load is on its way, we should be ready to lift in five."

"Copy that, Slivix. We'll cover for you while you load."

The T-47 pulled out scant feet above the walker, skimming across the top, Janson yelping in fright, "Wedge, watch it! That was too close!"

The pilot started to reply, swinging the speeder round, beginning to pull back up into the air. A laser blast slammed into the side of ship, throwing it out of control. Wedge yelled as the side of the speeder all but disintegrated, sparks racing across the consoles, smoke beginning to pour into the cockpit. "Janson…" he choked, wrestling with the speeder's controls, "Blow the canopy!"

The young man complied, the canopy ripping free, the smoke disappearing into the frigid wind that whipped at their heads. Wedge swore, fighting with the small craft, gradually bringing it back under some semblance of control. As Antilles righted the speeder Janson glanced round at the damage, yelling over the whine of the engine, "Wedge, this thing shouldn't still be flying!"

"I know!" Antilles yelled back, the icy wind stinging at his unprotected lower face. Gently, he turned the speeder towards the area where the X-wings were holding, "I'll try putting her down as close to the fighters as I can!"

"You got a death wish?" Janson screamed, "The Flight'll kill you if you put this thing down too close to her precious birds!"

"Either way we die!" Wedge snapped back, “And personally I’d rather have the Flight do it!”

Imperial troops had entered the base. Solo was dragging the Princess off to her transport. Just a little longer, Derlin thought, just to make sure that everyone has heard the evac signal. A hand dropped lightly onto his shoulder and he turned, looking up at Tazhak, “Let’s get out of here...”

“You go,” he told her turning back.

But she tightened the grip on his shoulder. “Don’t make me knock you out and carry you, Major!” she threatened. Derlin nodded, ripping the headset off, dumping it on the console. Walking as quickly as they could across the room, they stepped into the corridor. Arms clamped round his ribs, Derlin raced along the corridor beside her towards the last transport.

Another blast rocked the complex and knocked them off their feet, the corridor roof collapsing in behind them. Swearing as pain lanced through his chest he lay for a moment, trying to breathe. Then Tazhak was helping him climb unsteadily to his feet and stumble on through the mist of ice. The lights flickered again. Derlin pushed himself harder, not wanting to get caught in the corridor in the dark. They reached a door, Tazhak pushing him through it into the hangar bay, beyond which the transport waited.

Derlin saw the smoking debris first, the sight pulling him to a stop. Beyond the mouth of the hangar, a plume of black smoke spilled out of the wreckage that moments before had been the ship that should have taken both of them to safety. Rubble and bodies spattered the surrounding snow.

"No," Tazhak breathed, the truth of the situation crashing in on her as numbers on a screen became the reality of dead and dying friends.

It wasn't until the stormtroopers standing just ahead of them had turned to face them, rifles held ready in their hands, that the Rebel Officers even realised the Imperial troops were there.

"What, in the name of the Force, does he think he's doing?" Ryinne breathed, watching the snowspeeder wobble ponderously through the air towards them, trailing thick black smoke. Tarras handed her a pair of binos and she grabbed them, focusing on the speeder. The canopy was gone, the starboard side a blackened mess of metal and wiring.

"Who is it?" Tarras asked.

"Antilles! And on that approach vector he's going to take us out if he's not careful!"

"How bad?" Yevl asked, moving in behind her.

"Bad!" She sucked in her breath as the speeder dropped out of the sky, then recovered, "Damn it, Antilles, if the crash doesn't kill you, I will!" She glanced sideways at the two engineers, "Well don't just stand there, get their birds ready!"

Wedge swore, fighting with the controls as the speeder lurched sickeningly towards the ground. Janson clutched the side of his chair, eyes squeezed shut. The speeder started flying again, the ground rushing past below, "Janson! Brace yourself!" Wedge shouted, pulling the nose of the speeder up. The underside slammed into the snow.

Larne held her breath as the speeder was obscured in a spray of snow and ice. Then it appeared again, slithering across the surface towards the base of the dune. Ryinne started running.

Wedge dropped his head, covering it with his arms as the dune raced towards them. The speeder smashed to a stop, the snow above collapsing into the cabin. Dazed, Wedge fought for breath, the weight of the snow pressing down on his neck and back. He heard Janson calling his name, the sound muffled.

Larne reached the crash site, Yevl and Tarras at her back. Anxiously, they began dragging at the snow, trying to get to the two men trapped beneath. Finally, they were pulling the spluttering pilot and his gunner out of the wreckage. Larne waited until she could see that they were both uninjured, then turned on Antilles, "What the hell sort of a stunt were you trying to pull?"

He grinned at her and she swore, turning away, tramping back towards the X-wings. "Both your birds are firing up!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Antilles trudged after her, "Any sign of Commander Skywalker?"

"Not yet..."

"Damn. We saw his speeder go down..." He trailed off, realising that there was no way of finding Luke in the mess they'd just left. Wedge had seen him getting out: he'd find his way back here. Until then... "We're just about the last," Wedge said, taking command, "how many X-wings are left?"

"Ten, counting your two. I've got orders from Rieekan. Any rigs that are left without pilots are to be flown to an alternate rendezvous point by the astromechs."

"Right, then we input the alternate rendezvous co-ordinates into the remaining Artoo units and get them primed to fly out on remote..."