POV: Call to Silence (Part Three)

Captain Norvad Piett frowned as he sat in his command chair aboard the Providence. His second-in-command, Commander Jarrett, appeared at his side, a datapad in his hand. Piett didn't look up. "Your report, Commander?" he asked.

The Commander handed the datapad to him and straightened instinctively to give his report. "Sir, our tractor crews haven't found anything. It appears that the station was totally destroyed, and that no one escaped."

"It appears that a barrage of proton torpedoes did most of the damage," Jarrett answered him. "However, we detected blast marks consistent with both starfighter cannons and turbolasers."

Piett nodded. Probably a small Rebel taskforce, perhaps a squadron. Could it have been White Squadron? His eyes narrowed. "Did you detect anything else?"

"Yes, sir. We've found some sublight drive emissions that appear to be only hours old."

Now Piett turned abruptly to face him. "Do we have any idea where they could have escaped to?" he snapped.

"Yes, sir - there's three systems near here," the Commander replied. "It's possible they went there."

It's possible - it's not much, but it's a start, the Captain thought. "Very well, Commander. Alert the High Command of the station's demise, then order the Dagger of Truth and Angel of Fury to investigate the first and third systems. We'll go to the second. If neither of them finds anything, they can regroup with us."

"Very good, sir," Jarrett nodded. He began to issue orders as Piett gripped his command chair's arms and scowled. An entire platform...but why would the Rebels bother to commit an entire squadron to such a task as destroying a research station? There's bigger fish for them to fry. Unless... Piett pursed his lips as his scowl deepened. Unless they know something that I don't. He resisted the urge to contact Grand Admiral Thrawn and request information. Such an action would likely achieve nothing except getting the Grand Admiral annoyed, and Piett understandably wished to avoid that.

"Helm," he said, turning slightly to the Lieutenant at the helm, "prepare to give me flank speed."

Drake allowed himself a smile. It looked like things were getting easier. White Squadron had so far managed to destroy a dozen or so of the TIE Advanced without the loss of a single ship, although several, including his own, were damaged. He checked his damage control report. The laser cannon system would be back on line in fifteen seconds. Good, he thought, I hate long waits.

"Whites, this is White Leader," Shok'wave announced over the comm suddenly. "Our companions are due right about...now." Even as she spoke, several transports appeared towards the edge of the system, several dozen klicks away and to their right, at about a forty five degree angle.

Drake smiled in relief. The transports didn't look like they were going to come anywhere near the fight, a fact that he was glad for. Won't have to worry about them getting in the way, or getting blown up. Some of the TIE Advanced immediately headed towards the new arrivals, but several B-Wings herded them back.

"Lead, this is Four," Iceman reported. "I've got what appear to be several Gunboats emerging from the planet's atmosphere."

"Acknowledged, Four," Shok'wave answered him. "Let's worry about these brights right now. Worry about the Gunboats only when you have to, or if they get dangerous."

Drake, his cannon system newly repaired, repeatedly stabbed the trigger and his twin laser cannons spat fire at an incoming TIE Advanced. The bright, its shields minimal before the attack, quickly began to break apart and then exploded. He risked a glance at his radar and saw the transports steadily heading for the planet. Come on, you lumbering pigs! he willed them. Even a Y-Wing's faster than you guys are - move it!

"At least there doesn't appear to be any Corvettes here," Zeppelin remarked cheerfully over the comm. "If there were, they surely would've been launched by now. Apparently, this place is so secret and far out of the way that the Empire doesn't have any capital ships around."

"That isn't entirely true," Foxfire's voice came tightly over the radio. "Look at the transports!"

Drake's computer shrilled a warning at him as his head snapped around to look at the faint, distant shapes of the transports. In a split second, an Imperial Star Destroyer appeared almost directly above them. His hands had already unconsciously swung his A-Wing on an intercept course as he swore under his breath and redirected all his energy to his engines. A moment later, the Star Destroyer opened up with every weapon it had, and within half a minute, all traces of the transports were gone. On the comm there was nothing but stunned silence.

"Force the TIEs closer to the atmosphere!" Shok'wave ordered. As she spoke, all of White Squadron's fighters turned toward the planet and headed for it at full throttle. The TIE Advanced and Gunboat wings roared behind them.

"This....better...." Shok'wave said over the crackling comm as they got closer to the atmosphere, her voice laced with static. "Commun....disrupted....can't warn....Destroyer."

As if in answer to his question, the Frigate Joan d’Arc, it's hull gleaming proudly, suddenly sailed in from hyperspace and took position close to the planet...on the opposite side to the Star Destroyer, Drake noticed. So that's what Shok'wave meant. A second later a second ship appeared, a Rebel Alliance Corvette. Drake centered the ship in his reticle and hit the button to target it. The computer identified it as the Faithful. Drake smiled. "Hopefully this will even things up a little bit," he murmured.

Shok'wave dodged a stray burst of laser fire as she spoke with the Captain aboard the Joan d’Arc. "Captain, there's an Impstar Deuce here," she informed him without preamble.

"I know," the Captain's voice came back, unmuffled now that Shok'wave had edged out of the atmosphere and the twisting melee between the Whites and the Imperials. She glanced obliquely behind her at the Imperial Star Destroyer in the distance, which was slowly turning to face the planet.

"How do you know that, sir?" she asked him bluntly, sounding a little distracted.

"I've got Sutherland's R2 unit plugged into my tactical and communication systems," the Captain replied. "It not only increased our sensor capability, but, when we came out of hyperspace just outside this system before our final quick jump in, it pulled a data feed from his A-Wing. That happened just a little while before the Imperials showed up. We saw the transports go down, and we managed to contact High Command. I've got new orders for you."

"Eight of your people will go down onto the planet and attempt to destroy that facility by whatever means they can find."

"You heard me," the Captain continued firmly, overlooking the breach of respect. "You did have all your fighters stocked with some small explosive charges, didn't you?"

"Well, yes..." Shok'wave admitted, a little sheepishly. "But I really included those in case anyone got captured....hopefully they could do a little damage if they did."

"Well, the Imperials are bound to have an armory down there," the Captain said reasonably. "I'd imagine the place will be full of stormtroopers, and they like to have a lot of weapons on hand. All you have to do is find them."

As easy as that. "Yes, sir," Shok'wave replied, almost successful in her attempts to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"Commander, this is important. We're here, and if we go, or don't destroy this complex entirely, the Empire will move it or rebuild it, and we'll have gone through this for nothing. Your squadron might be our only hope. Trained for this sort of combat or not, I know they're all good shots and we've been ordered to go. Now, the remaining ships up here had better put as many proton torpedoes into that Star Destroyer as possible before it gets within range. Otherwise, the Joan d’Arc is a sitting duck. Even with the Faithful, I can't hope to destroy it otherwise. Understood?"

"Affirmative, sir. I'll transmit the planetary brief to eight of the pilots now."

"Good. They'd better make it quick. That Star Destroyer might take its time, but it will reach us."

Captain Piett had not allowed himself a smile. Despite the quick destruction of the Rebel transports by the Providence, he sensed that there was something drastically wrong here. He frowned slightly.

"We don't know, sir," Commander Jarrett said as he materialised at Piett's elbow. "We haven't found any cargo debris, though. It's possible they were converted gunships."

It's possible, Piett repeated irritably to himself. "I need facts, Commander," he told his second-in-command curtly. "Not possibilites."

The other's expression remained neutral, but his eyes seemed to darken momentarily. "Yes, sir," he said stonily. Captain Piett nodded.

"Tell me, Commander, why do you think that the Rebels would convert transports to gunships, and then deploy them out here, near the edge of the system? And, more importantly," he continued as his frown deepened, "what are the Rebels doing here at all? What is there of value in this system? It only has one planet, relatively low in natural resources, I believe."

"Then why are they here?" Piett repeated, more to himself than anyone else. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and looked up at Jarrett. "Any idea who those Rebels are?"

"Yes, sir," Commander Jarrett answered, his voice a little higher than usual with excitement. "We've positively identified them as White Squadron." Piett raised an eyebrow, but did not smile as Jarrett did.

"Very good. We'll move to intercept once we've completed our turn. Now, another question, Commander. Where did those TIE Advanced fighters come from?" At this, the Commander shook his head slightly.

"That's unknown, sir. We can't ask them because of the spatial interference caused by the planet's atmosphere. It renders communications and sensors useless." Piett glanced out the window sharply.

"So, it would be easy to hide something on that planet," he stated. Jarrett hesitated a second, then nodded.

"Recall the Angel of Fury and the Dagger of Truth to our position at maximum speed," he ordered.

"Yes, sir, but the Angel of Fury is still in hyperspace....the system she is travelling to is further out than ours and the one the Dagger of Truth is investigating," Jarrett informed him.

"Very well, the Dagger of Truth will have to do then," Piett conceded. He turned once more as Jarrett moved to comply. "Helm, once you've brought us around, accelerate to maximum sublight speed," he said, then took a deep breath. "Communications, contact Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Drake concentrated on the board in front of him as his A-Wing descended through the planet's atmosphere, its hull glowing slightly with the heat. Outside the cockpit, the sky was black apart from the distant stars.

"Okay, Commando Two, level out now," Vyper ordered, his voice clear now that the area of atmospheric disturbance had been cleared. "I'm scanning for the installation...there it is! Plot course for three one zero, zero mark."

"Commando One, follow Three's order," Foxfire added. The mixed group of A- and B-Wings swung around in the darkness.

"Captain, we can't disengage now or those TIEs will warn the ISD about you and the Faithful," Shok'wave said, exasperated. The voice that answered her on the comm was firm.

"Commander, if that Imperial captain is any good at all - and I'm assuming he is, since he's managed to get command of an Imperial-class ship at a time when they're in short supply - if he's any good at all, he'll have realized, or at least suspected, we're here anyway. Now, disengage and begin your torpedo runs. Otherwise, we won't be here much longer. That's an order, Commander."

"Yes, sir." Shok'wave switched frequencies and addressed White Squadron. "Whites, we're making our runs on the ISD now. B-Wings, head straight for the destroyer... A-Wings, keep giving us cover. I expect that once we relax our guard on them, those brights are going to get very nasty."

Various pilots acknowledged the order and the B-Wings suddenly broke from the fight, heading towards the incoming Star Destroyer at top speed. The TIE Advanced attempted to follow, but the A-Wings kept them in a tight, twisting circle.

"Keep them occupied," Moose advised. "Let the Gunboats get away. They won't catch our B-Wings at full speed anyway."

"I'm going for the power station," Ibero informed them on the comm. For this mission he was flying in a B-Wing, given his experience in a Y-Wing in the past. The B-Wing's proton torpedoes would probably be needed to effectively punch through the armored power station's outer walls to its core.

Drake saw the four thrusters glowing off his starboard side rapidly move forward and diminish in size. It had been arranged, after some argument, to destroy the installation's power station, and then land to try and infiltrate the Empire's facility. Some had argued in favor of simply destroying it in an air strike, but others - most notably Psycho, Foxfire, Vyper and Drake himself - had dismissed such an idea.

"What we're really looking for is most likely underground," Vyper had reminded them, "and also, with an air strike, we don't know if we hit all of the target." In the end, Foxfire and Vyper had ended the argument, as, when the decision needed to be made, they were in charge.

There was a brilliant flash and explosion ahead as a pillar of fire leapt into the night sky.

"Well, now they know we're here," Drake muttered to himself. Vyper heard the comment over the comm.

"Hopefully, they'll assume it's an air strike, so they'll be busy getting to anti-ship defences," he said. "Ibero will keep hassling them for a little while. We're landing now - there's a series of clearings in the rainforest just below us."

Less than a minute later the seven craft had all touched down, scattered in their own small clearings. Drake powered down his engines, but left his systems on low power. He'd probably need to get out of here quickly, and if he did, he wasn't going to go from a totally cold start. He checked his blaster in its thigh holster, then took off his flight gloves and helmet and left them on his cockpit board, before opening the hatch behind him and grabbing the small thermal detonators stowed in there. Not enough to blow the entire facility, he knew, but they could help. Popping the cockpit hatch, he let the warm, humid night air wash over him for only a few seconds before he jumped nimbly to the ground and ran towards the next clearing to his left.

There were only two stormtroopers stationed outside the small base entrance, Vyper noticed with a grim smile. "Good, looks like Ibero has them fooled so far," he whispered.

"Even the Imps aren't stupid enough not to realize that it's only one fighter doing all this damage," Drake added. "We'd better drop them both, first shot and simultaneously, or there could be trouble."

Vyper nodded almost imperceptibly, absently patting the FE-MEK45 Imperial Special Forces assault blaster he had already drawn. "Yes, Foxfire and I will be the shooters for this one," he said quietly, as he lifted the blaster in front of him. To his right, Drake looked away quickly as he saw Foxfire's blond hair swishing in the darkness as she did the same.

A second later, Vyper whispered, "Now," and two red laser bolts streaked angrily through the darkness. The two stormtroopers, caught in the neck and head by the blasts, both went down. Vyper waved to the others behind him. "Let's move."

Moose juked his B-Wing slightly and watched the green laser bolt sizzle by as its three companions impacted on his reinforced rear shields. The steady beep of his torpedo acquiring lock continued to sound through his cockpit as he held his ship steady towards the massive form of the Star Destroyer ahead of him. He glanced down at the computer as it finally identified the enemy vessel. "Providence," he murmured to himself. "I'll remember your name."

The computer whined its acquisition of a target lock and Moose pulled the trigger.

"Strike Two, launch now," Moose ordered, and watched as over a dozen torpedoes appeared around him. "Peel off before we get too close and prepare for the next run."

Captain Piett gripped his chair as the ship shuddered under the impact of the torpedoes. "Status," he snapped.

"Shields still over fifty percent, sir," his weapons officer reported. "They're going to need a lot more torpedoes than that to hurt us."

Although a Nebulon-B Frigate would also do, Piett thought grimly. "ETA for the Dagger of Truth?"

Piett glanced at the planet. I need to know what's down there...and that Frigate's captain around the other side is no fool...he's going to wait for me to come to him, while I get damaged by his starfighters along the way. Captain Piett nodded.

"Very well. I'm not waiting any longer to preserve their safety...begin launching the TIE squadrons. Bombers have orders to destroy that Frigate. How many TIE Advanced are left out there?"

"Order them to assist as well, and reinforce our shields with power from the lower decks, including life support. Evacuate those decks."

"Sir, we've just received a transmission from one of our fighters... the Providence is launching TIEs, and the Bombers appear to heading in our direction." The Captain nodded briefly, then rapped out orders rapidly.

"Very well. Inform any A-Wings out there to attempt to destroy the Bombers before they can get past. The B-Wings had better keep concentrating on the Providence. According to these data feeds, her Captain has managed to maintain his speed and reinforce his shields. He's probably shut off power to some of his ship... Position us so that we'll block the Bombers' line of attack towards the Faithful." *

"Sir?" the Lieutenant swiveled slightly in his chair and the Captain continued, a little irritably.

"Yes, Lieutenant, that's what I said. The Faithful can take six torpedoes before it goes down - we can take quite a few more than that. Now, helm, get us in front of that Corvette. If the TIEs get in close, the Faithful can help us out."

"Sir." The bridge crew complied. The Captain glanced down at the squat R2 unit next to him.

"Keep those data feeds from the oblique angle fighters coming in," he said. The 'droid whistled something back that sounded indignant to the captain. The latter did his best to smile down graciously at the little R2's outburst. "You're doing well," he said encouragingly. "It's great to have you aboard." Feeling awkward at working with a 'droid, he quickly turned and strode over to the tactical officer's post.

"Lieutenant, what's the status of the NX-12 intell data?" he asked in a low voice, bending over to glance at the young woman's screen. She didn't look away from the screen as she answered, but inclined her head slightly towards the captain.

"Good. I don't want to lose that information to a cargo bay breach," the Captain nodded grimly. The NX-12 was a complete set of intelligence data that the Joan d’Arc and White Squadron had been gathering during their time on the Outer Rim. It was thought that the data would be used for an Alliance offensive to disrupt Imperial presence severely on the Rim. The data represented a lot of time, effort and resources expended by White Squadron and the Joan d’Arc, and the Captain fully intended to protect it to take it back in one piece.

The inside of the complex was a drab grey, similar to holos that Drake had seen of the interior of Star Destroyers. It was dark, too, the only illumination coming from thin emergency strip lights mounted in the walls.

"Apparently the Empire's got another power source stashed away somewhere," Drake observed in a hoarse whisper.

Vyper's voice came softly beside him. "Of course - you didn't think they'd just have one above ground power station to handle this place, did you? They've probably got a secondary power generator further underground...no doubt they'll have main power back in a few minutes. We'd better go and try to find the armory while we're still hard to spot."

Drake winced as he looked down at his bright orange flight suit. Not exactly what I'd call "hard to spot", in any light, he thought to himself wryly.

"Psycho, you've probably got as good an idea as I have about where their armory is," Vyper continued quietly. "Got any ideas?" The two men conversed with their backs turned and Drake and the others waited nervously until they turned around. Silently Vyper motioned the group forward and they set off down the corridor.

"T-one, watch it! You've got a squint on your tail!" Joker warned. Inside his cockpit, Trojan craned his neck and looked behind him as the TIE Interceptor swung behind him and started firing.

"I see him, Thirteen," Trojan answered her tightly as he violently jerked his A-Wing from side to side. "I see him, but I can't shake him."

"Hold on, I'm coming," Joker assured him. Ahead of him, Trojan could make out the tiny form of an A-Wing which swung around and headed directly for him. It rapidly grew larger, then swerved past him to his left at the last moment. Trojan dived as he heard laser blasts behind him and the TIE Interceptor disappeared from his radar.

"Not a problem, T-one," Joker replied. She redirected more energy to her engines and armed her concussion missiles as she streaked toward a pair of TIE Bombers nearly within torpedo range of the Joan d’Arc. The A-Wing roared to within 20 meters and its concussion missile launch tubes glowed briefly as two missiles launched in rapid succession. The slow Bombers, having no time to swerve, took direct hits from the dumb fired blasts. One exploded; the other's twin hull snapped in half before spinning into space.

Trojan punched the button to select the nearest enemy starfighter, and an image of a TIE Advanced appeared on his screen. I'm not stopping until I've got you, he said to himself, setting his lips in a hard line.

"How long until the Providence is in position?" the Captain impatiently directed the question at Ledner.

The 'droid tooted a reply, and the communications officer turned. "Twenty minutes, sir," he answered.

The Captain nodded. "Very well. Have any of those Bombers got through our defensive screen?"

"Not yet, sir...wait, it looks like two have gotten through...confirmed. They're launching torpedoes." The Captain sighed briefly.

"Dispatch White Fourteen to destroy them," he ordered. A few seconds later the Joan d’Arc trembled slightly under their feet as four proton torpedoes slammed into her hull. "What's the status of the Strike groups?" the Captain asked.

Shok'wave shunted energy from lasers to shields as she held her course directly at the Star Destroyer ahead of her. "Strike One, launch now," she ordered as she triggered her own torpedoes. She watched with satisfaction as the multiple points of blue light appeared in space around her. Her smile changed quickly to a frown of surprise as her on-board computer shrieked a warning at her.

"Lead, we've got an Imperial Frigate coming out of hyperspace!" Without bothering to acknowledge the comment, Shok'wave quickly asked, "Joan d’Arc, we've got an Imperial Frigate coming in here. You seen it yet?"

"Affirmative, White Leader," came the reply. "It's closer than the Providence, so you and Strike Two are going to intercept it first."

"As ordered, Joan d’Arc," Shok'wave acknowledged. "Strikes, engage that Frigate - use all the torpedoes you've got, we'll make two attack runs."

The Frigate wasn't as strong as the Star Destroyer, but it still had guns. Shok'wave hoped to cripple or destroy it, not wanting to leave the Joan d’Arc to face it undamaged. Besides, if that ISD does get too close, the Joan should be able to outrun it, she mused. I hope.

Drake nervously drew his blaster, hefting it in his hand once. He'd used this thing a lot before, he reflected, but not against Imperials.

More's the pity - it was stormtroopers that killed Mum and Dad, not TIE pilots, he thought grimly to himself. But I'm a pilot, not a soldier. I'll do my best to avenge their deaths and prevent new ones - in my own way. He flicked the safety off his blaster and eased into the half-stoop he used when fighting. The group of White Squadron pilots had spread itself out into a long zigzagged single file. Psycho and Vyper were at the front, and orders were passed down the line by hand signal. Ahead of him, Foxfire waved a hand forward, and Drake set off, waving his own hand as he did so.

The group took a series of alternating turns and headed down several corridors, then stopped. Drake craned his head around, trying to look down the corridor to see the reason for the delay. Soon Foxfire edged back to where he was. "We're splitting into two groups," she whispered. "You, Vyper and myself will be one, and Psycho will lead everyone else in the other." Drake nodded and moved to pass the message down the line.

"We've found what looks like a deserted TIE pilot ready room," Vyper informed Foxfire and Drake a minute later. "Pyscho and the others have gone to look for the armory proper...for now, we'll see if we can blend in with the locals." The others nodded their agreement. They slipped quietly to the end of the long corridor where they'd waited, and Vyper listened at the door. "Let's go," he hissed. "But stay sharp." With that, they burst through the door, blasters raised - to find an empty room, with four black Imperial flight suits hanging on the wall.

"They're all up there fighting our people." Vyper nodded, and without any further comment the three climbed into the best fitting suit they could find.

"At least this isn't stormtrooper armor," Drake commented, and grinned tightly. "I don't have the bulk for stormie outfits." Foxfire managed a smile and was about to retort, but Vyper shook his head.

"Don't be too glad," he cautioned. "The Imps will no doubt be cautious of TIE pilots waltzing around the base, believe me. Hopefully Psycho's crowd can bag themselves some stormtrooper suits, though. Let's go, we'll have to leave our flight suits here - it'll feel funny flying in one of these suits again," he finished.

Captain Piett's face muscles remained tight, but the rest of his body appeared unnaturally calm.

"The Dagger of Truth reports that their shields are decreasing... some of our TIE Bombers are getting through their Frigate's defensive screen.... which is actually smaller than it should be, sir." Piett turned to face the young man.

"Sir...it appears that the screen is composed of A-Wings," he said slowly at first, but then picking up speed. "Only there's less A-Wings there than there should be. Some seem to have just vanished. The B-Wings, too."

"No, sir." Piett glowered and resisted the urge to pound his command chair. So, they must be on the planet, he thought angrily. What in the Empire is down there? He nodded.

"Order the Dagger of Truth to approach the Alliance Frigate behind the planet," he said. "Their speed will be such that we arrive in range at the same time." We have them trapped, Captain Piett thought with a small smile of satisfaction. They either run, leaving their people, and whatever it is they're after, down on the planet, or they come out and try to attack us...that would be suicidal. No, they'll wait for us. They might put up a fight, but, even damaged, the Providence and the Dagger of Truth combined will be more than enough for them. Piett's reflection was interrupted by the voice of his comm. officer.

"Sir, I've still had no luck contacting Grand Admiral Thrawn," he reported. "The spatial interference, combined with the damage to our communications relays and the distances involved..." Piett cut him off with a curt hand.

"Inform Colonel Yuta that I want three stormtrooper squads prepped for an investigation of the planet," he ordered. "We'll launch the transports when we're closer to the planet." And then, I'm going to find out what's down there, he finished to himself.

"Captain, the Imperial Frigate is beginning to move," the Executive Officer of the Joan d’Arc reported as Ledner began beeping excitedly. "She's not going very fast, though." The Captain nodded.

"Naturally. They hope to flank us...by attacking us simultaneously with the Star Destroyer and the Frigate, they'll destroy us that much quicker, minimizing the threat to their own ships," he remarked.

"Inform Strike groups of a change in orders. Concentrate all fire on the starboard side of that Star Destroyer," the Captain ordered.

"Strikes, abort the second Frigate run!" Shok'wave ordered. "New orders - we're concentrating everything on the starboard side of the Providence."

Inside his cockpit, Moose shrugged slightly and brought his B-Wing around in a wide, slow arc. The battle was taking its physical toll on him, he knew - and who knew what it must be doing to the others. Well, he thought grimly, one way or another it'll be over soon, anyway. It seems the Captain has something in mind, though. The thought gave him hope as he fired at a Gunboat zipping in front of him. It was only then that he realized why he was so tired...evading Gunboats and trying to attack capital ships was not at all easy. Fighting the weariness and sitting up straight, Moose shunted energy to his shields and pointed his nose directly at the massive Star Destroyer's starboard side.

The turbolift doors eased open, and Foxfire, Vyper and Drake started down the corridor. At the end, four stormtroopers ran past, carrying their rifles at high port.

"Uh-oh," Vyper murmured. "It appears they've discovered our deception. I think we'll find main power restored shortly."

"Let's follow those stormies," Foxfire suggested. "See if they lead us to anything important." Vyper nodded.

"We'll try to circle them from three directions...the corridors around here appear to be in a lattice of connecting sections," he whispered. "Let's go...quickly."

Drake blinked sweat out of his eyes as he crept stealthily forward. Having circled around and come towards the position where the stormtroopers were standing, he was now coming in from the north. He caught a flash of white as he got closer...Steady, he told himself. Almost immediately the stormtrooper glanced sharply in his direction.

The shot took the trooper squarely in the chest, burning through the armor and dropping him in a heap on the floor. At that instant there were several laser blasts, and Drake felt something sting his cheek as the other two visible stormtroopers went down - one had been in the process of reaching for an alarm button. Drake glanced with interest at the wall beside him where a gouge had been ripped by a laser bolt. He felt his cheek, and his glove came away wet with blood. Wait a minute....where's that other stormtroo... A flash of white obscured Drake's vision as an arm grabbed his neck in a vice-like grip, and began to squeeze. Choking and gasping, Drake fumbled with his blaster...

And stopped as, after a sickening thud, the stormtrooper hit the ground behind him. Foxfire stepped up from behind him, brandishing her pink crowbar. She smiled and Drake wheezed and nodded his silent thanks.

Vyper slid the card from the stormtrooper's uniform into the slot and the door snapped open silently. The three pilots grinned.

"Looks like we found the armory," Foxfire noted with satisfaction. Vyper nodded and set to work, grabbing various explosive charges, and motioned for the others to do the same. After they'd finished, Drake holstered his blaster and took a blaster carbine off the rack.

"Ahh, better," he said, still a little breathless from his ordeal with the stormtrooper. Foxfire took one as well, but Vyper shook his head and patted his assault blaster.

Drake reloaded a fresh energy clip into his carbine and leaped into the corridor, crouching and strobing it with blaster fire, as Vyper and Foxfire opened up beside him. Smoke filled the corridor from holes gouged in the walls just as the main lights came back on, almost blinding the White Squadron pilots.

"Go!" yelled Vyper, and they set off at a run, almost colliding with a quartet of stormtroopers around the corner. Drake ducked instinctively, dropping the empty carbine and reaching for his blaster-

"Wait, it's us," Granite's unmistakable Caldanian brogue rumbled from one of the helmets. Vyper grinned.

"We've got a map-" Psycho interrupted him, and despite the seriousness of the situation, everyone laughed a little.

"Sounds like a good combination," Vyper said. "Let's work out where to put these charges so we can get out of here."

"Sir, White Leader reports they've used all their torpedoes," the communications officer informed the Captain, who acknowledged him with a brief nod. "When will they be in range?"

"Very well. Recall the B-Wing strike groups to our position - hopefully the Gunboats will follow them and get closer so we can take care of them before their bigger counterparts arrive."

Suddenly, every White Squadron fighter in the system broke off whatever it was doing and streaked towards the Joan d’Arc.

On the other side of the planet, shielded from communications by spatial interference, Trojan's A-Wing continued to trail the elusive TIE Advanced that continued to roll, juke and turn just out of reach.

Drake snapped off several shots, and heard the clatter of an armored body hitting the floor. Amazing, he thought with a grim smile, that I haven't used all my luck yet. I must be getting dangerously close.

Drake stepped resolutely into the corridor, ran forward, grabbed the dead trooper's ID card, and swiped it through the slot.

Frowning, Drake caught sight of the glowing panel set into an alcove beside the slot. Clumsily, he hauled the trooper into a sitting position, pulled off his glove, and pressed the hand to the slot. The door slid open, and for the first time Drake noticed how oppressively heavy the air in the complex was. He took a breath, and stepped into the room.

Inside, at the center of the room, stood a cylindrical pillar, about a metet long and a foot in diameter. It's surface gleamed, except in the middle where a small transparisteel window was set. From inside came a harsh blue glow. Drake gulped and glanced around.

"The Emperor's Voice," he breathed, his gaze returning to the mesmerizing object of power that lay before him. Shaking himself, Drake's brow furrowed in concentration. Shaking his head to clear it of a sudden drowsiness, he pulled the small shaped charges from his "borrowed" utility belt and began to set them around the small room, adding his own supply of thermal detonators.

Drake hurried out into the corridor, hoping that the others had all set their charges too...and froze. Something's not right here, he said to himself, the back of his neck prickling with an unpleasant sensation. Then, from behind him, came a sound he'd heard in only a dozen or so holos and had never thought to hear in real life.

Drake whirled, his blaster flashing into his hand as he did so - but the weapon flew uselessly from his grip and clattered to the floor beside the dark figure facing him, standing outside the door to the Emperor's Voice chamber. Drake let his hands drop to his sides.

"Who are you?" he demanded of the cloaked figure. The other took a step forward, the violet blade of his lightsaber humming as he moved.

"I am the Emperor's Mouth," he grated. "I guard the Emperor's Voice." Drake, consciously aware of his predicament, decided to try and buy time. Time for what? No matter - just try to live as long as you can, he thought quickly. He sneered.

"On the contrary," he began, his voice arrogant. "You are nothing. It is the Emperor's Voice that guards you."

"Without it, your power is limited," Drake said simply, as if explaining something to a child. "You are certainly no man of power by yourself."

"You are nothing of the sort!" he snapped. "The only Jedi living is Luke Skywalker. The others have all been destroyed. A Jedi must be proclaimed by his peers, or by a Jedi Master. If that had happened to you, the galaxy would know. Also, if you were a Jedi, then you would already have taken actions that would make you well known - that is the nature of the Jedi's role. You are unknown, and, therefore, you are no Jedi." The other growled, and Drake felt the icy hands of fear clawing at his stomach. "You-" he started again, but now the Emperor's Mouth cut him off.

"I am a Jedi," he snarled menacingly. "With my help, the Emperor's Voice has now, finally, started to be heard again. Your pathetic reasoning is irrelevant when set against true power." The cloaked figure stepped forward, stepping towards Drake, and the humming lightsaber came up slightly.

"Soon, your Rebellion will be no more," the Emperor's Mouth said smugly. "After I kill you, I'll disable those charges that you set-"

"Then, display your courage and strike down an unarmed man," he growled sardonically. The other inclined his head a fraction.

"Very well." He stepped forward, raising the lightsaber, and Drake prepared for the death blow.

Then, in an instant, everything happened at once. The Emperor's Mouth raised his arms with blinding speed, the violet blade came humming down through the air-

And swung wildly away as a blaster shot caught him in the arm. The Dark Jedi snarled in pain, and as he turned to face the new threat, Drake was pushed by an invisible hand onto the floor.

Vyper stepped out from around the corner, snapping off several shots. This time, however, the Emperor's Mouth was ready, and he deflected the bolts into the walls, gouging out chunks there. However, Drake noticed with surprise, this time, he wasn't pulling the blaster away. Isn't or can't? Drake frowned. The rate of fire possessed by Vyper's assault blaster was far superior to most...perhaps the Dark Jedi couldn't concentrate long enough to actually take the blaster. Drake quickly searched and looked around him for a way to help Vyper. His eyes travelled along the plain, smooth, walls-

Drake twitched, but he couldn't go after the blaster - it was past the Dark Jedi, on the other side of the T-junction where Vyper stood. Drake glared at the corner, then blinked in surprise as he saw the tip of a crowbar sticking out from behind it.

For a second, nothing happened, as the resonating hum of the lightsaber continued to be punctuated by the sharp, short laser blasts. Suddenly, Foxfire's head appeared around the corner, and she frowned slightly as she took in the situation at a glance. As the lightsaber again deflected a bolt, her foot flicked out from behind the corner, giving a mighty kick that sent the blaster sliding along the floor. Drake dived for it, and got up into a crouch just as the Emperor's Mouth turned his head slightly towards him.

Drake fired three times before the blaster was again thrown from his hand by an invisible force.

The Emperor's Mouth stepped backwards, away from Vyper and Drake, and turned, the violet lightsaber humming and whining as it deftly parried and deflected all three shots, sending them to gouge holes in the walls, and Vyper's shots as well. The latter had hesitated slightly, distracted by Foxfire's intervention, and this, Drake realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, was just what the Emperor's Mouth needed. Even as he deflected the shots, though, the Dark Jedi dimly realized that he was no longer paying attention to the other corner of the corridor's T-junction, and that he had probably just made the last mistake of his life.

Even as Vyper's blaster flew from his hand, there were two quick steps followed by a loud thud, and the black form crumpled to the ground. Foxfire straightened up and put away her crowbar.

"I think we'd better go, you two," she said to Drake and Vyper. "Those charges will be going off at any minute." They nodded, grabbed their blasters, and set off at a run.

Vyper, Foxfire and Drake ran towards the clearings where they'd landed in their fighters. "Thirty seconds to detonation!" Vyper yelled. "Let's get out of here!" There was no need...the Whites were already running for their ships.

The mixed group of eight Rebel starfighters raced just above the treetops that could now dimly be perceived in the new planetary dawn. Foxfire glanced behind her, just in time to see an enormous column of fire shoot skyward where the Emperor's Voice complex had been.

"Captain, the Providence and the Frigate Dagger of Truth are nearly in range." The captain of the Joan d’Arc nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Power up sublight engines...ready for flank speed." The navigator nodded and moved to comply. The Captain shot the tactical officer a quick look, then turned as a beep sounded.

"Sir, the White Commando groups are returning from the planet!" the communications officer reported excitedly. The Captain turned and was about to reply when Ledner suddenly squealed.

"What?" the Captain snapped. The communications officer turned, his face now white and his voice subdued.

"Acknowledged. Navigation, set bearing zero three zero, mark four five," the Captain ordered. "Go!"

Drake's flight group suddenly boiled into the raging dogfight near the Joan d’Arc, and for a moment he fired at a Gunboat before watching proudly as the battered Frigate suddenly surged forward and upward toward the arc of the planet. Guiding his A-Wing to follow, Drake came over the rim of the planet quickly and snarled. Sitting in front of him was the massive Star Destroyer, which was starting to roll onto its side, and the Imperial Frigate.

"Commando groups, this is Two," Foxfire's voice came quickly. "All B-Wings torpedo that Frigate." There were several acknowledgements as several B-Wings headed towards the Frigate. A few seconds later, a volley of torpedoes streaked towards the Imperial ship.

Captain Norvad Piett looked irritably at the glowing blue pinpoints off his starboard bow.

"New ships!" his tactical officer informed him. "Eight ships - A-Wings and B-Wings."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Piett said dryly. "I-" his voice trailed off as a Frigate came racing over the rim of the planet, with a Corvette close behind.

"Here he is, and he has unexpected company," Piett observed thoughtfully. "Increase roll rate," he snapped. "I don't want them taking our starboard side." And he glanced down at the darkened section on the right of his Star Destroyer in the tactical display.

Drake fired his last two concussion missiles at the Gunboat in front of him and peeled off as the slower craft exploded. Pausing for a moment, he glanced at the Joan d’Arc as it leaped forward, ignoring the fire from the Imperial Frigate that mostly shot too far to the aft. Drake smiled thinly. That's it, Joan, go for it! Apparently, the Empire's gunners aren't what they used to be... He chuckled quietly in his cockpit.

White Squadron's mother ship slowed as it came up beside the Providence, with the Corellian Corvette Faithful on the other side. The Imperial Frigate Dagger of Truth could no longer fire at the Rebel ships, as they were blocked by the massive Star Destroyer. The Frigate rocked slightly as the last of White Squadron's torpedoes slammed into its hull, then, slowly, it began to move away, heading for the other side of the planet.

Meanwhile, red and green turbolaser bolts flashed incessantly between the huge Star Destroyer and the much smaller Alliance Frigate. Drake smiled in satisfaction as he saw several explosions on the Star Destroyer's still slightly exposed starboard side. Looks like their shields there are down, he thought. However, the satisfaction was short lived as the Joan d’Arc's battered shields began to collapse, and the number of red turbolaser bolts was far lower than the number of green ones. Drake started as an Assault Gunboat streaked in front of him, and he smiled as he pulled his A-Wing over to follow. I've been watching the big ships long enough...I'm starting to let *Gunboats* surprise me!, he thought to himself.

"I've just detected a shuttle leaving the planet, over on the far side! Whites, we have to destroy that shuttle! It must have the other set of EV data aboard!"

Drake glanced around helplessly as several A-Wings broke off and began to race back toward the planet, heading for the right hand side where the shuttle was just visible. Lucky it didn't come out around the back, or we wouldn't have detected it all, Drake mused. He punched up a threat display on his computer as he targeted the shuttle, and shook his head. It's just too far. They won't make it before the shuttle makes the jump into hyperspace. The mission was all for nothing! He glowered and pounded his hand with a fist.

Trojan's A-Wing shot outward from the planet's outer atmosphere as the TIE Advanced appeared from nowhere, bearing down at him. He was just in time to hear Shok'wave's message, and he glanced off to his left, jumping involuntarily. The shuttle was only a few hundred meters away.

"Acknowledged, Lead," he said tightly, ducking to avoid the TIE Advanced, which soared above him. "T-one has the lamb." Shok'wave couldn't hide her surprise.

"Uhh, I haven't received any orders to that effect, Lead," Trojan replied truthfully. Shok'wave's voice came back, calm.

Trojan nodded and banked toward the shuttle, activating his threat display. The shuttle is going to hyperspace in thirty seconds, and, judging by these energy readings from the sensors, it has something very powerful on board, he thought, dropping behind the shuttle neatly and cutting his throttle to match its speed. He'd already put four shots into its aft shields when a horrible electronic squeal interrupted him. He yanked the stick into his stomach, doing a complete roll as the TIE Advanced shot past, flying too fast and beginning a slow curve back around to finish him off. Trojan glanced down at his now blackened control board, noticing that his laser and concussion missile launcher systems were both out. Great. The shuttle's leaving in less than twenty seconds and I'm... he curled his lip into a mirthless grin as a thought crossed his mind, and he redirected all energy into his shields and streaked back towards the rear of the shuttle, ignoring the TIE Advanced that had now increased the rate of his turn.

"He's pretty heavily damaged, Lead," Vyper's voice answered her. "He's either run out or had his tubes damaged."

"Thanks, Three," Shok'wave replied distractedly. When I wished the Force to be with him, I meant the good side.

Trojan shuddered and braced himself as he sensed the TIE Advanced completing its loop behind him, and settling in for the kill. In that instant, he firewalled the throttle, and the A-Wing leaped forward, straight at the Imperial shuttle.

Trojan waited until the shuttle filled his vision, then pulled the ejection handle for all he was worth. There was the sound of the cockpit popping and his EV suit sealing as he was catapulted into space.

The A-Wing flew straight into the back of the shuttle, its concussion missiles detonating on impact.

The shuttle and A-Wing exploded in a fiery cloud of debris, and Trojan laughed a sigh of relief as the TIE Advanced soared past, heading back towards the main battle. "We got it! We've won!" he shouted into his helmet, then glanced over at the battle near the planet. No, you haven't, he heard himself say in his mind.

Shok'wave shouted down the cheering on the comm. "There's another shuttle - and it's capturing Trojan!" The Whites could only watch in horror as an Imperial shuttle launched from the Dagger of Truth and headed purposefully for the tiny dot that was White Squadron's newest Training Wing pilot.

The captain of the Joan d’Arc grabbed a handrail to support himself as the ship under him reeled.

"Sir, shields are still down, and port side turbolasers have fallen to fifty percent efficiency," the weapons officer reported. The tactical officer caught the Captain's gaze and shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"An Imperial shuttle has captured White T-one," Communications informed him solemnly. The Captain bowed his head briefly, then brought it up, inhaling noisily.

"That's it, then...we're getting out of here. Navigation, begin calculations for hyperspace. See if you can roll us to expose our dorsal or starboard side to that Star Destroyer."

Slowly, the Joan d’Arc began to roll, even as the Corvette Faithful suddenly looped over the top of it and came to rest in front of the Frigate, placing itself between the Joan d’Arc and the Providence. A second later, the Faithful's guns opened up, and were immediately answered by those on the port side of the now inverted Star Destroyer.

"Shields down and hull damaged," Commander Jarrett reported. "Their Corvette is almost destroyed. It's merely bought them some time. Foolish sacrifice." Piett nodded. "What of the B-Wings attacking our starboard side?" he asked.

"The remaining TIEs and Gunboats we have have all been pulled back into a defensive screen," Jarrett reported. "We're still taking damage, but it's mimimal."

"The Dagger of Truth has gone into hyperspace, as ordered, sir," the tactical officer reported.

"Hyperspace calculations completed, Captain," the navigator reported softly. "We should move out a bit from the Star Destroyer to jump, though."

"Sir, the Faithful's hull is beginning to break up," someone else said. The Captain nodded gravely, a lump forming in his throat.

"Yes, sir... " the navigator acknowledged. He began to comply and the Joan d’Arc began to crawl forward even as the communications officer whirled around in his chair.

"Captain, I have a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser arriving out of hyperspace!" he half shouted, and clapped his hands. "They're attacking the Star Destroyer!"

The massive, bulky form of the Calamari Star Crusier Starider blinked into existence just above the slightly larger Star Destroyer Providence. Immediately the new ship began pouring fire into the ship beneath it, as the Imperial ship directed all its available guns to the new threat.

Captain Piett stood and supported himself against his command chair as the deck underneath him shook.

"Shields down, hull sustaining damage...." the reply came, before it was drowned out by the sound of an explosion from one of the bulkheads.

"We've no choice! Direct all life support energy to all functional shields! Navigation, get us out of here!" Piett shouted. The huge ship began to roll and the lights dimmed as all available power went into reinforcing the shields long enough to allow them to compute the jump to hyperspace. We can redirect energy back to the life support systems later, Piett thought to himself. If there is a later, he finished grimly.

Drake noted the increase of the Star Destroyer's shields on its tactical display, but couldn't do anything as he whipped over and finally finished his Gunboat. He quickly glanced behind him to see the Joan d’Arc come limping back around as the Imperial Star Destroyer Providence's main hull suffered a fiery explosion. Suddenly, with red turbolasers still pouring into it, the Star Destroyer rapidly moved forward and vanished into hyperspace.

The mood was very subdued on board the Starider's mess deck. Tired, dirty and dishevelled, the pilots of White Squadron should have been celebrating, but they were instead drinking a kind of wake.

"We're not even in the Bomb Shelter for this," Drake grumbled. Due to the extensive damage to the hangar deck of the Joan d’Arc, there wasn't enough clear deck space for the Whites' ships to land.

"Cheer up," Foxfire urged him. "We just saved the galaxy, remember?" She winked and smiled and Drake could hardly help but do the same.

"That's true, and we must never stop trying to get him back from the Empire," she said solemnly. "But right now, I think, he would have wanted us to celebrate this occasion." Everyone stared back at her; a few smiles creased weary faces, but no one spoke. Suddenly Drake grinned.

"Did you see the way those TIE Advanced tried to outfly us?" he asked incredulously. The mess exploded into dozens of comments, observations and swapped stories of the battle, as squadron pride flared in the heart of every pilot, and everyone went on to release the tension left over from the mission. Shok'wave quietly drew Drake aside.

"Well done, Drake," she told him in a low voice, and grinned. "You've helped establish the right mood here. I felt something in the Force, I think, not long before your groups came back up." Drake nodded as he fingered the dried blood on his cheek.

"Yes," he sighed wearily. "Between us - Foxfire, Vyper and myself that is - we managed to take down a sort of Dark Jedi. Actually, I think he was just a nasty character with some Force ability being beefed up by the Emperor's Voice." Drake shook his head. "Not that that made it any easier, though. Without Vyper and Foxfire there, I'd be dead now."

"I guess so," Drake shrugged in agreement. "I'll tell you more about it later, if you like, but first, I want to know - how come you didn't know he was there? I mean, aren't Jedi supposed to be able to feel the presence of other Force-sensitive people?" To his surprise, Shok'wave laughed a little.

"Oh," she said, "That's easy. Because the Force was so disrupted by the Force amplifer, it made it impossible to detect smaller disturbances in it. Think of it like spotting a little ripple in a stormy sea." Drake nodded silently. Shok'wave seemed to know an awful lot about what went on. A thought occurred to him and he asked,

"Well, when we captured those plans in the first place, High Command was informed where we were, and they obviously sent out the Starider at once, to reach us as soon as possible. Anyway, no doubt some of the crew members here will want some free Blue Stuff later for saving us." Shok'wave made a wry face. "For now, it's enough for me that we've won - we'll worry about going over the battle (and giving them their free Blue Stuff!) later." Shok'wave grinned again and looked up as Foxfire headed over.

"Better," he agreed. "I suppose for that little favor I'll have to buy you a drink." White Squadron's Executive Officer batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Who, me?" she asked, feigning surprise. Then she winked. "Of course you'll have to buy me one," she said, and laughed. Drake and Shok'wave laughed with her, and the young man stood.

Shok'wave was about to answer him when a young Lieutenant dressed in the uniform of Alliance security entered the room and headed over. He saluted, and Shok'wave stood to return the salute.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me," he said. Shok'wave's lips froze into a hard line.

"Your presence is required at Alliance Headquarters," he answered her apologetically, "for the official investigation into Rebel losses in this system. The captain of the Joan d’Arc will be along, too." Shok'wave frowned.

"On whose authority?" she challenged. Again, the young man looked nervously apologetic.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the order comes from the Council itself," he said, glancing at the floor. Shok'wave nodded.

"Avery, you're now in command of White Squadron," she said at last. "I temporarily relieve myself of command. Vyper will be your new XO." She looked at the security officer. "Is anyone else coming along for this little party?"

"Well... we'd like a military escort for the shuttle transporting you," he said. Shok'wave opened her mouth to protest having to ride in a shuttle instead of flying her fighter, but thought better of it and shut it. Drake turned to stare at the security officer icily. Of all the cheek! First they tell us they're taking our CO away for questioning, then they beg us for an escort!

"If it's all the same to you, Commander, I'd much rather take my X-Wing," he said coolly. Shok'wave nodded.

"Very well. Let's tell the rest of the squadron. Looks like this isn't such a great victory, after all. The Emperor's Voice has been silenced, but now, we might have problems a little closer to home." With that, she turned to address her pilots for what might be the last time.

If you would like to have one or more of your own stories featured on the White Squadron webpage, please feel free to send your request or story to Shok'wave and she would be honored to discuss the matter with you further.