Wedge had left the observation room lights off, taking solace in the darkness. He leant against the bulkhead, gazing out at the stars and the rest of the fleet, his mood sombre and despondent. They had escaped Echo base by the skin of their teeth and a head-count at the rendezvous had shown the horrifying toll for that escape. He knew that nearly half of the remaining X-wings were missing or out of action and fates knew how many Y-wings were in the same mess. Luke was missing; the Millennium Falcon was missing. Rumours were spreading quickly that none of the ground soldiers had made it off the surface and that they had lost almost a quarter of the technical staff.

His memories slid back to the sarcastic Sergeant with the caustic wit who had helped him the day he collapsed on the corridors of Echo Base. He suddenly realised that he couldn’t remember the man’s name. In his mind he saw the Sergeant smiling at him, eyebrow raised in sardonic agreement, “If you’re quite finished with the histrionics, perhaps we ought to get you back to the med bay.” Of the others in the corridor that day, Zev was missing and Hobbie was seriously injured. Only he and Janson were unharmed. Absently he rubbed his shoulder, immediately regretting it as the pressure irritated the still healing wound. He winced as the pain began to throb again.

Flight Larne hadn’t made it either. He’d asked, but no transports had left Hoth after Hobbie and him. Wedge closed his eyes, resting his head on the cold, transparent metal. So many dead. So many missing. He wished briefly that Karrik were here… Then changed his mind. For Karrik to be here meant that she would have had to be on Hoth. And she may not have made it through the assault. No, he decided, she was safer where she was… wherever that was.

A shuttle swept past, heading back towards its ship. Others followed and Wedge knew that the Captains’ meeting with Ackbar must be over. At least now they would find out what was happening. Whatever it was it was major: all the Captains had been summoned. Rumour had it that Mon Mothma herself was onboard.

The com system on the wall by the door burst into life, the screen glowing in the darkness, “Lieutenant Commander Antilles?”

Wedge lifted his head, wondering briefly how they’d known he was here. Then realised that this was a ship-wide call. He walked across, tapping one of the buttons, “Antilles here.”

The man smiled apologetically, “You’re needed in briefing room one, Sir.”

“I’m on my way.”

The corridors were more crowded than usual. The Mon Cal cruiser had taken personnel from the other ships, trying to relieve the overcrowding, making life not too unbearable on the more tightly packed vessels. Every now and then he would pass someone from Supply who had the unenviable task of trying to work out who was where. They were scribbling furiously, moving from person to person. Finally he reached the briefing bays, checking the numbers on the rooms as he walked along the corridor. He needn’t have worried, the Lieutenant who had called him was waiting by the door. He ushered him inside.

Of the four people in the room, he recognised only Commander Anders, now promoted to Major, he saw. She nodded to him, flashing him a quick smile of reassurance. She walked to him, shaking his hand, “Good to see you made it, Wedge.”

“And you, Ma’am.”

She squeezed his hand quickly, then let go telling him quietly, “I’ll introduce you.” She turned, indicating each person, “General Taearinn, Colonel Wa’ykke, Major Strom. General, Gentleman, Wedge Antilles.”

The General nodded at him, indicating that he should join them, sitting down on one of chairs grouped round a low table near an observation port. Anders guided Wedge across, sitting down beside him. General Taearinn was looking at him, her obsidian eyes intense in her pale azure face. Her race was gifted with empathic abilities and she couldn’t fail to see the grief, the concern and the despondency that wove through this young man’s aura. He was wounded. He hid it well, but she could feel the wisping essence of the ache in his shoulder. What concerned her most was how near to exhaustion he was. He looked strong and eminently capable, but if they pushed this young man too hard right now, he might just break. Gently, she began, “You are aware, I believe, that the Millennium Falcon has not been seen since it left Hoth’s atmosphere?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Captain Solo has proven himself to be both able and devious. He has served us well in the past, despite his occasional grumblings. Normally we would not be concerned about the Falcon’s safety. However, coupled with Commander Skywalker’s disappearance, you can understand that we are somewhat… perturbed by this situation.”

“We need to form a picture of exactly what happened,” Taearinn continued, “We need to know when Commander Skywalker left Hoth. Are you sure that he followed you off the surface?”

Wedge shifted uncomfortably on the seat, “He left before I did, General.” He saw the surprise on their faces and quickly explained, “The Commander’s speeder went down some distance from where the X-wings were being readied. When my speeder was hit I was able to guide it down to the X-wing site, so I ended up being there before him. Not knowing whether Commander Skywalker was alive or not and knowing how badly things were going for our people, I assumed command. By the time Commander Skywalker made it to the X-wings, everything was pretty much complete. We only had a few final adjustments to make. It was clear to me that we wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer and considering the Empire’s attitude towards the Commander, I persuaded him to get to safety and let me finish things.”

“You persuaded him?”

Wedge smiled, sadly, “Actually it was Flight Larne who talked to him. I believe she threatened to knock him out and dump him in his fighter if he refused my request.”

“So you were the last to leave?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“How long after the Falcon did Commander Skywalker leave?” This was from Strom.

Wedge shook his head, “I have no idea, Sir. I didn’t see the Falcon going.”

“Did the Commander leave alone?”

“Yes, Sir. There was no one available for escort. My wingman had already gone, and Luke... Commander Skywalker’s wingman didn’t make it through the ground defence. The only other two pilots were required for escort duty on the freighters. They left just after Luke.” He pre-empted Strom’s next question, “I already talked to them, Sir. Their freighter was destroyed on the ground. They took some shots at the AT-ATs, then went for space. They were too far behind him to see anything. And Janson didn’t…” Wedge broke off, cursing silently.

The General saw the dismay wash across his face, read the emotion in his aura. It intrigued her, but she decided that the question would be best left until after the others had gone. Antilles obviously wanted to hide something. Instead she finished for him, “Janson wouldn’t have seen anything either?”

She read the relief as he replied, “No, Ma’am.”

She sat back, glancing round at the others. “Unfortunately that leaves us right back where we started.”

“We should inform Mon Mothma,” Wa’ykke said softly.

“Indeed, Colonel. If you and Major Strom discuss the situation with Major Anders and the rest of the Intelligence Staff, I will join you as soon as I have completed our other business.” They stood, nodding in salute before walking across the room towards the door. Taearinn turned back to Wedge, “Now young man…” she began. The door closed. “What’s all this about Janson?” she finished.

“Janson is my wingman.”

She was looking at him intently and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to talk his way out of the slip. Wearily, he explained, “Once his freighter had made the jump to lightspeed he came back to see if I needed help. He saved our lives and eight X-wings. He took out an AT-AT that had lined us up…”

“Us?”

“Hobbie, Flight Larne, Chief Yevl and myself, Ma’am.”

“I see. And why has that caused you so much discomfort?” she pressed, gently.

Wedge sighed, “All escorting fighters were supposed to jump with their freighters. By coming back he was breaking orders.”

“I assume he would have had a good reason to disobey orders?” she suggested.

Wedge looked at her, surprised by her reaction. “He thought we might need some help.”

“Which you obviously did. Is anyone else aware of this?”

“I don’t think so Ma’am.”

She nodded, touching a button on the low table, “Lieutenant, locate…” She stopped, looking at Wedge in question.

“Lieutenant Janson Waede,” Wedge supplied, unhappily.

“I got that, Ma’am,” a disembodied voice replied.

Taearinn smiled at the look on Wedge’s face, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to eat him. Now,” she continued, changing the subject, “tell me, what is the situation with the X-wings.”

Wedge shook his head, “Not good.” He paused, starting from the very beginning, before they’re even reached Hoth and Echo Base, wanting to make sure that he gave the Colonel the correct details, “We were ambushed between Devariis and Hoth. My T-65 was destroyed along with ten others and one was too badly damaged to repair. General Rieekan amalgamated the rest into a single flight of twenty.” He closed his eyes, concentrating, “One was destroyed on Hoth which leaves the six that were programmed to fly to an interim rendezvous. Alissha’s only just got her here. Luke’s missing as is Gil, Sammil and Perr…” He trailed off, not wanting to voice the pitiful number that was left, “Counting the six for the rendezvous we can make a flight of fourteen.” He opened his eyes, looking at her, “But we’ve only got nine pilots.”

Taearinn sat back. Fourteen fighters – seven pairs. That was viable for a Flight. Usually the minimum was eight, but seven was viable if they could find pilots. After a moment she turned her attention back to Antilles, “I have a decision to make and I think you can help me with it.”

“Ma’am?”

“Do I split up what remains of Rogue Squadron and amalgamate them into other squadrons and flights? Or can you make a Flight of only seven pairs feasible?” Wedge opened his mouth, closed it again then swallowed. Taearinn smiled at him, “I’m offering you Command of a depleted Flight, if you’re willing to accept it.”

“Ma’am… I…” Rogue was Luke’s squadron! He couldn’t take it… Then the professional, battle-wise fighter pilot in him kicked in. Luke wasn’t here. Luke was missing. The squadron – or the Flight as it now was – wouldn’t survive without leadership. They needed someone in Command. And he could always step aside if Luke made it back…

“It’s certainly not going to be easy” the General was continuing, “If you can’t pull your weight the Admiral may still decide to disband the Flight. But I’d rather not split you up and I’m willing to give you the chance.” She searched his face and his emotions, deciding that she had made the right choice. “Will you accept Command of Rogue Flight?” she pressed.

Antilles nodded slowly, “Yes… Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Commander.” She smiled, “Do you have any preference as to your Second?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Janson Waede…”

The answer hadn’t surprised her. A chime sounded from the console on the table, saving her from having to reply. She leant forward, pressing it, “Yes?”

“General, Lieutenant Waede is here.”

“Right on cue. Thank you, Lieutenant. Send him in.”

The door opened and Janson stepped into the room. Taearinn stood up, walking over to him, hands behind her back. She walked round him, scrutinising him, saying nothing. Then she asked, “Are you in the habit of disobeying orders, Lieutenant?”

Already nervous about being summoned to see the General, the abruptness of the question threw him. “No, Ma’am,” he floundered.

“Then kindly explain to me why you disobeyed orders by going back down to the surface of Hoth when you should have been at the rendezvous with the freighter to whom you were escort?”

Janson swallowed, glancing across at Wedge who was studiously intent on watching the floor. “Ma’am… I…” he began. Then started again, “My escort jumped and as I was about to jump I saw that one of the squadron was in trouble, Ma’am. She had lost her wingman, was obviously in trouble and a TIE had a lead on her. I gave her covering fire until she jumped. But then I realised that Lieutenant Commander Antilles was still on the surface, probably without back up… I couldn’t leave without making sure that he was all right, Ma’am.”

“And was he all right?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Really? That’s not what I was told. I was informed that you destroyed an AT-AT about to fire on him, thereby saving not only his life and the lives of the ground crew, but also rescuing eight fighters that would have been destroyed.”

Janson swallowed, looking extremely uncomfortable, “Yes, Ma’am.”

She turned on her heel, looking at Antilles, “Do you really want a pilot who disobeys orders as your Second, Commander?”

Wedge looked up, then rose to his feet, “Yes, General. I’d trust him with my life.”

“Seems to me you already have, Commander!” she told him, hiding a smile and turning back to Janson, glowering at the young man. He had fought well, risked his life to save others on not one but two occasions and she instinctively knew that he had been prepared to accept punishment for both acts. She wasn’t inclined to cheapen his bravery. “Seems I have to promote you, rather than discipline you, Lieutenant Commander.” She looked across at Antilles, allowing the scowl to fade to a gentle grin, “We need people with initiative. Sometimes I think it’s the only way we’re going to win this damned war.” Turning once more to Janson, she snapped, “Just don’t make a habit of breaking orders, Waede.”

“Yes, Ma’am…” Janson attempted, completely thrown by the General’s response, “I mean no, Ma’am.”

Taearinn shook her head at the young pilot’s obvious discomfort, telling Wedge, “Commander Antilles, get him out of here before I change my mind. Your orders will be posted with the others.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

She nodded in acknowledgement, walking over to her desk as Wedge grabbed hold of Janson and hustled him out of the room. Janson tried to say something but the General’s aide was talking to a small, silver-haired woman with Captain’s stripes. The aide turned as Wedge appeared, the Captain rising to her feet, cutting off anything Janson was about to say as she asked, “Rogue Three? Wedge Antilles?”

“Yes, Ma’am…” Wedge answered, letting go of Janson’s uniform.

“At last,” she smiled, moving towards him. She shook his hand, introducing herself, “Maggs Loi-Tieb, Captain of the Slivix. I hear that you’ve just been promoted, Antilles. Congratulations.”

He returned her smile, telling her, “Thanks. I’m now Commander of Rogue Flight, for my sins.” He let go of her hand, indicating Janson, “This is my Second, Janson Waede.”

Janson shook her hand, then turned to Wedge, “If you have no objection, Commander, I’ll go find the others.”

Wedge let him go and he disappeared quickly out of the door. Wedge turned back to Loi-Tieb, “Thank you for your help earlier…” He trailed off, seeing the sudden sadness in her eyes. And deep down he knew that Hobbie was dead. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “Hobbie didn’t make it.”

Loi-Tieb shook her head, “We did what we could, but there wasn’t a lot we could do. He’d lost so much blood, the wound had done so much damage.” He had closed his eyes and she touched his arm, “The medic assured me that he wasn’t in pain, that he just slipped away. He wasn’t alone. She was with him, talking to him all the way.” She paused, then finished, “I’m sorry.”

Wedge nodded, saying nothing for a moment, not trusting himself to speak. Finally he looked up at her, “Thank you… for everything.” She squeezed his arm then turned, walking through the door and into the corridor.

Wedge simply stood. Yet another death. Yet another kid gone…

“Commander?” Wedge looked round at the Lieutenant who asked, “Is there anything…” He stopped as Wedge shook his head and started to walk towards the door.

But then Antilles turned back, “Tell the General that Rogue Flight is down to eight pilots. Let her know that we still have fourteen fighters.”

“Yes, Sir,” the Lieutenant acknowledged, watching Antilles as he walked into the corridor, the door closing behind him.

Personnel moved rapidly out of the way as Vader strode through the corridors of the ship towards his sanctum, wrapped in his anger, cloak billowing behind him. Shadowed by the Imperial fleet, hounded by TIE bombers, the Millennium Falcon had successfully hidden in the asteroid field. Granted it had given him time to complete the interrogations of those taken at Hoth, but it had also forced him to do business with the Bounty Hunters - to balance Imperial inadequacies. Then, for a brief moment, it had seemed as if all that had been unnecessary - only to have Solo once again evaded capture.

Needa had paid for his mistake, but it had done nothing to salve Vader’s mood. Piett was convinced that the ship had jumped to lightspeed. The Dark Lord was not so sure. No ship the size of the Falcon could have a cloaking device. But Han Solo was becoming adept at throwing surprises at the Imperial forces.

The Falcon’s continued evasion galled him. Yet it was his last encounter with Palpatine that concerned and intrigued him most. The Emperor now knew about Luke. But Vader had been astonished to read the small undercurrent of tension in the Emperor’s presence. It had been quickly hidden, but it had been there. Palpatine, he had realised, feared Luke! Or perhaps it was fear of what would happen should the Son join the Father. Together, Vader knew, they would be an invincibly powerful force. It was one of the reasons he had been searching for his son.

Getting hold of the boy was now more important than ever. It was imperative that he got to him before Palpatine. Which brought him back to the continued annoyance of the Millennium Falcon. Luke had escaped Hoth. But thanks to the recent interrogations, Vader now had a complete picture of just how significant Organa, Solo and the Wookiee were to the boy. The assumptions he had made after Tennan’s questioning had simply been reinforced - capture the Falcon and Luke would be his.

His most promising course of action was now the Bounty Hunters – in particular the one called Fett. The Hunter had been assured that Solo would be handed over to him once Vader was finished and the cold pleasure the Dark Lord had sensed intrigued him. There appeared to be a personal score to settle between Fett and Solo and that could only work to his advantage.

The only hindrance from now on would be Palpatine, who would be watching Vader’s progress closely. But knowledge of the Emperor’s fear was a power that Vader knew he could turn to his advantage. Time was running out. But all Vader had to do was wait. You will join me, My Son! You will stand at my side! And together we will rule the Empire! It is your destiny...

The cell door sliced open. Fear surged and Yevl looked up at the officer framed in the open doorway. "All right, Rebel" the man told him, stepping back, "Move out!" Yevl pushed himself to his feet, walking up the few steps into the corridor. Some of the others were there, forming a line, hands on their heads. Glancing along the faces, he complied with the Imperial Officer's orders, lifting his hands to his head, stepping onto the front of the line. The stormtroopers marched them forward to the next cell.

The Officer had disappeared inside this one, calling for one of the stormtroopers who left his place, joining the officer inside. They appeared moments later, supporting someone. For a moment, Yevl denied the shock of recognition, then the two men turned towards him and he couldn't reject the woman's face. Despite himself, Yevl took a step forward. But there was no need, they were already thrusting the dishevelled form into his arms.

"You," the Officer told him, "Help her."

Karrik Tennan stumbled, almost losing her footing. Strong arms caught her, steadying her. She flinched away, but the arms held her, supporting her. A voice she knew that she should recognise spoke softly, "Whoa, Tennan… Steady."

Yevl looped her arm round his shoulder, putting his other arm round her waist, holding her close, helping her to move along the corridor. She lifted her head, looking up at him and he glanced down at her, smiling reassuringly. She knew that face, remembered him from somewhere... The image of a fighter swam into her mind, pulling with it a name.... "Wedge?"

Yevl opened his mouth, starting to tell her that he wasn't Antilles... Then he saw the small flicker of hope in her eyes. In a sudden wave of startling understanding he pulled her more closely to him, telling her simply, "It's okay, Karrik. It'll be okay."

Wedge... Karrik dredged her memories for the name, trying to work out why his presence here meant so much to her. But the significance vanished from her reach as soon as she tried to grasp hold of it. And yet... there was something.. something important she had to tell him... something...

"Vader!" She clutched at him, "Vader's here! Wedge..."

Yevl closed his eyes briefly, tightening his hold on her waist, "Shhh," he comforted, trying to calm her rising panic, "I'm here. Everything's going to be fine."

"But.... Vader..."

"We know. It's fine, Karrik. Trust me." It seemed to appease her and she relaxed against him, moving more easily as he guided her, following the stormtroopers through the corridors of the ship. Finally they stopped, double doors opening, the officer motioning them through into the empty hangar area. Yevl helped Karrik inside, manoeuvring to watch the rest of the entourage walking in - noticing that the Flight wasn’t there.

Tennan collapsed slowly against him. Reeis saw her crumple and stepped across, supporting her as Yevl shifted his grip, letting Karrik’s arm slide from his shoulder. With Reeis' help he sank slowly to the ground, holding Karrik in his arms, cradling her against his chest, like a child. For a moment he and Reeis exchanged looks. Movement from Karrik drew their attention back to her. She was lifting her hand to caress Yevl's cheek, a puzzled frown on her face. Then she smiled, as if suddenly remembering something. Her fingers touched his hair, "Wedge..."

"Shh," Yevl admonished, gently, "Save your strength."

“Wedge....” He was here with her. She was so cold, so confused, but she could feel the heat of his body through her blouse, the warmth of his arms around her. And it was wonderful. Nothing else mattered.... Did it? No... There was something.... something... Vader! Had she warned him about Vader? Vaguely she remembered telling him something about the Dark Lord. Wedge had been walking along a corridor somewhere with her... And she could feel the thrum of a ship below her. And Wedge was there, with his arms around her. The anxiety died away. Somehow he had come for her, they had found out where she was and he had come for her. Briefly she wondered if Commander Skywalker was with him. Someone had been asking about Skywalker... and about the Princess. Something about that was important...

She began to tell him, but she couldn’t seem to form the words.... And she couldn’t remember who had been asking. She’d tell him later, when she could remember. For the moment she was content just to lie here against him. She wasn’t cold any more. She was warm. And comfortable. And Wedge was here...

Tennan’s body relaxed slowly into Yevl’s arms. Her eyes were open, focussed a million miles away. Suspicion slowly pricked at him. He looked up at Reeis who moved, trying to find a pulse against Karrik’s neck. Intent on Tennan, neither of them was aware of the hangar doors opening again, the line of stormtroopers stepping forward.

The first volley of blaster fire hit Reeis in the back, dropping his body forward across Karrik's. The second caught Yevl in the chest, knocking him backward onto the hangar floor.

A third volley cut across the hangar, ensuring that no one was left alive. Then the firing stopped, the stormtroopers retreating, doors cutting off the bodies inside. The officer punched at the buttons on the control panel, the light cycling from blue, through gold, to white: warning that the force field was down, the hangar open to the depths of space.