Star Wars: Old Wounds (13)

Wedge's eyes were shut. He couldn't escape the destruction around him, but nor could he bare to witness it. He found himself remarkably calm as the cavern continued to crumble around him, resolute to the last. Yet, as he continued to wait, the deafening roar began to subside. Briefly, he wondered if his sense of hearing was merely fading before the rest of his consciousness, but he still felt no pain. Cautiously, he opened one eye, then both.

The cavern had indeed collapsed, but somehow he was unharmed. He stared in disbelief at the rubble piled high around him. As he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed Dak, and R3, huddled to his left. Dak's arm was still outstretched, his face contorted with exertion. As Wedge looked on, in both awe and confusion, Dak began to lower his arm, staggering as he released his mental grasp. Wedge rushed to support his friend.

"What. Was. That?! Did you just use the... the Force?"

"Guess my secret's out." Dak replied, breathlessly. "Sorry... give a minute.... to catch my breath... haven't done.... something like that.... for years..."

"You're a Jedi!" the young pilot exclaimed.

"Was. I was a Jedi. A long time ago..."

Wedge stared in disbelief. He had be born during the Clone Wars, but he'd grown up under the Empire. He knew little of the ways of the Jedi, save for stories told by his parents. To him, they had always seemed like legends, fables of better times. There was no way such powerful heroes could have existed. If they had, they would not have fallen before the Emperor's rise. To Wedge, the Force was only a superstition, a tale for children. But here was proof that it was true, all of it. A sudden anger filled him.

"You are a Jedi!" he repeated, loudly. "All this time, you've had this power and kept it hidden? The Alliance is fighting, dying, for the scraps we need just to keep us fighting against the might of the Empire. We can only dare to dream of taking on the Emperor, or Vader." Wedge was yelling now.  "And all this time, you could have been leading the fight, inspiring populations to rebel. You have the power to confront Vader himself!" 

"Its not that simple..." Dak protested, weakly.

"Isn't it?" spat Wedge. "You could have been a symbol of hope. An inspiration to the masses. Instead you hide, as a smuggler, helping out here and there, whenever it suits you. Just to ease your conscience. What's the use in winning the occasional battle, when you have the ability to influence the Galaxy at large?"

"Who do you think the Jedi were, Wedge?" Dak said, softly. "Even before the fall of the Republic, there were planets on which we were considered charlatans. On many others we were despised, because we'd failed to intervene in a local dispute, or our actions indirectly caused some other harm. That only became more stark during the Clone Wars. We were so focussed on the war, we lept from battlefield to battlefield, leaving a trail of broken worlds in our wake. It was for the good of the Galaxy, we told ourselves. The Senate will coordinate relief efforts. We were blind fools."

"But there must have been worlds on which you were heroes? People whose lives you'd saved." Wedge's temper had cooled, but only slightly. "There are a lot of people, especially in the Alliance, who would look up to you."

"No, they would admire the idea of me. They hold the concept of a Jedi as some mythical paragon, but we were never that. I was certainly not.

"So you're flawed. We all are. But you could still inspire hope in others. You might not believe in yourself, but so many others would."

"So they can run off and get slaughtered?" Dak replied, raising his own voice. He stood up, unsteadily, and glowered at Wedge. "After all, it worked out so well during the Clone Wars. I led thousands of good men to their deaths. Men who believed in my command. I fought by their side, we helped each other, but even on our best days we still had losses. That's the nature of war." Dak's grief, which had been locked away for so long, began to spill out. "And for what? Who won that war? Not the Jedi, not the Republic, not the Seperatists. Only Palpatine and his emergent Empire. He played the whole galaxy, and got away with it. And, unwittingly, I helped it happen. The Jedi failed everyone."

"So get back out there. Take the fight to Palpatine. You have a power most of us can't even comprehend!" Wedge urged. 

"I already tried that!" Dak yelled, his eyes beginning to well up. He paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. Long buried memories unearthed themselves in his mind. "Even after the Purge, I kept fighting. Too stubborn to die, I suppose." Dak sighed. "I led a group of resistance fighters. Truth be told, it was too soon. We never stood a chance. The Galaxy wanted stability after the Clone Wars, and the Empire was there to provide it. But we fought on nonetheless. Nowhere was safe. We moved our base constantly, yet every time we did, we were located again almost immediately. I was still a Jedi then, I naively thought I could be a symbol, like you did."

"What went wrong?" Wedge asked, softly.

"Everything. I wasn't a symbol, I was a target. Every town we visited, every port we landed in, every battle we fought, someone recognised me. Or at least, they recognised the lightsaber. Everywhere we went, we were hounded by Imperial Purgetroopers, then the Inquisitors. Until Xantu. Our base was positioned on a rocky outcrop above a lavaflow. Dangerous, but remote, and offered natural barriers on three sides. Despite that, we were still set upon, by the Grand Inquisitor himself. I'd had enough of running, I ordered the rest of my team to evacuate, I needed to face him. Alone. Our duel was intense, he fought with a ruthless, refined, ferocity I was unable to match. Slowly, he gained the upper hand. I was disarmed, and fell to my knees, defeated. Yet, he did not kill me. He laughed, said I had been broken, and then he gave a gift so I would never forget that moment. He reached out with the Force, crushing the bones of my right arm, practically grinding them to dust."

"I'm sorry." Wedge said, gently. He looked at his own arm, still healing within a bactacast. Some wounds may heal, he thought, but the scars always remain.

"And the thing is, he was right. I was broken. Being Jedi Master Arven Vorlack hadn't helped the galaxy. I was no leader. I couldn't face having anyone else die under my command, to give the order that would doom a soldier who believed in me. So I became the lowly smuggler Dak Dogba. I tried to leave my past behind, but as the years went by, and the scale of the Empire's tyranny grew, I couldn't remain idle. It was Lara who pushed me to enlist in the Alliance. At least behind the controls of a starfughter, I can still do some good."

"I certainly know how that feels." agreed Wedge. "Look, I'm sorry for blowing up at you. I mean, you did just save my life."

"Which was only in danger because I dragged us down here without thinking it true. And I'm sorry too Wedge. I'm sorry I can't be the hero you want me to be. I'm just not a Jedi, and maybe that's for the best. After all, the Order was blind to Palpatine's corruption of the Republic. We had become too close-minded and dogmatic, even before the war. The Jedi failed, it's time for the rest of us to take our place and fight back." Dak sounded determined, and he felt a fire within him that had lain dormant for far too long. He smiled to himself, having forgotten what hope felt like.

"So, Mr. Smuggler. Do you think you could help move a few more rocks and clear an exit for us?" Wedge asked, cheerily.

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, kid." Dak replied, as he reached out once again. He'd kept his mind focussed inwards for so long, his senses were almost overwhelmed as he opened himself up again. For fifteen years, he'd surrounded himself with his own fears, doubts, and anger. Too long trapped inside his own thoughts. To feel the Galaxy again, was breathtaking. He was struck by the amount of life he could sense. Not just the miners above, but all sorts of burrowing creatures, insects, even scattered vegetation stubbornly growing in the barren landscape above. He felt the miner's exhaustion, and some sorrow, but also relief and joy. A thousand emotions, flooding in at once. Slowly, Dak filtered his thoughts, until he was focussed only on the rocks around him. He visualized the tunnel they had once formed, and urged the rubble to reform its old shape. 

"Stick close to me, you two. I can only hold up a small section at a time, so if you lag behind you'll be crushed." he warned, as a small section of the collapsed tunnel shifted, creating a slight opening. "Let's take this slow."

***

It took some time, but eventually they returned the turbolift shaft. The lift itself had been damaged in the blast, torn open with jagged metal shards twisted in every direction. 

"Guess we're not getting out that way." said Wedge, needlessly. "Hey Dak, you alright?" As they reached the open column of the lift shaft, Dak was able to let go of the earth around him. Devoid of his exertion, he slumped forward, feeling the exhaustion of his efforts. 

"I'll be fine. Just need a break. You try lifting several tons of rubble. With only your mind." he replied, testily.

"Don't exaggerate. It was cumulative, you didn't do it all at once." Wedge teased. "Now, all we need to find some way out."

"There's always a ladder, for emergency repairs, running up the shaft. But that's way too far for us to climb safely." Dak said, as he leaned on R3. The droid gave him a reassuring whistle, then beeped more energetically.

"Good idea, buddy." Dak replied warmly, before calling to Wedge: "He says the cables seem to be intact. If we disconnect it from what's left of the lift's roof, and release the counterweight, it should bring us all the way to the top."

"At enormous velocity. Smashing into the top of the shaft."

"Not if the emergency brake kicks in."

"Nice. Your use of the word 'if' is particularly reassuring." Wedge sighed to himself. It was still the best option. 

Wedge and R3 got to work dismantling what remained of the lift. The base of the shaft was partially filled with rubble, so it was easy for them to reach the roof. They found a flat panel of durasteel connected to a winch, and the elevator cable, with ease. As R3 used his arc welder to cut out a section centred around the winch and wide enough for them to stand on, Wedge continued the conversation.

"So, why Dak? Where did the name come from?"

"From a very old friend." Dak replied, wistfully. "We were locked up together on an old Trade Federation cruiser. Tried to break out, reach his ship. It didn't go to plan."

"Nothing ever does." replied Wedge. "He died?"

"Sacrificed himself so I could escape with his ship, and some highly valuable intel. He gave his life for the Republic. Afterwards, to honour his memory, I used his identity occasionally during the war whenever I needed to keep a low profile. Some places a Jedi draws too much attention."

"Sounds like he was a good man. If he was still around, I'm sure he'd have joined the Rebellion."

"Without hesitation."

"Then, he'd be proud of you too. Fighting for freedom in his name. You might not think of yourself a good Jedi, but you're a great Dak Dogba."

Dak chuckled to himself, then looked at Wedge and gave a curt nod of appreciation. He wanted to say more, to thank the young pilot for making him remember what he fought for, but his feelings were still too raw. He couldn't find the words he needed. "Come on, can't lay about chatting all day. We have a Grand Admiral to take down."

They made their way to the cut out platform, were R3 was waiting for them.

"Hold on tight to the cable." Dak warned. "This is not going to be comfortable. And you do not want to fall."

"Let's just get it over with."

"Ready R3?"

With a shrill whistle, R3 sent a signal through the control system, releasing the lift's counterweight. The platform jerked upwards, accelerating rapidly. The three passengers clinged desperately to the cable as the platform began to wobble and vibrate. The structure was unbalanced and unstable, shaking like some bucking beast. Wedge, despite his terror, was exhilarated by the experience. He was born to fly, it was the only time he ever felt in control, so he was used to high-speed, dangerous environments. Dak had his eyes closed, deep in a meditative calm. R3 however, shrieked with terror, despite his magnetized legs providing him with the steadiest grip of them all. 

As the remains of the lift neared the top of the shaft, emergency brakes activated, arresting the platform of its acceleration and speed, bringing it to a sudden halt. 

"Weve arrived." Dak announced, opening his eyes. "End of the line."

In fact, the lift had stopped just shy of the doors leading to the Imperial facility, but the three could easily climb the remaining few feet to emerge back into the oppressive corridors of Malefic's base. 

"No patrols, we're clear." Wedge said, as he hauled himself out of the doorway.

"Its only a matter of time." Dak replied, as he too emerged. R3 followed behind, helping himself up vis his rocket jets. 

"So, where to?" 

"We go with your first plan. Get to the shuttle, get out of here. We have enough detail about the TIE Indomitable project to get Raddus to send the fleet after Malefic."

"And hope the Admiral doesn't move his Destroyer in the meantime."

"He won't leave Andriss undefended. The cortosis mine is too precious to him." 

"And if he summons reinforcements?"

"We deal with that when it happens. What else can we do? The two of us can't take down a Destroyer by ourselves."

"Remember when this was a simple supply run?"

***

The trio made their way quickly through the corridors. They encountered a few patrolling Stormtrooper, but it was easier enough to avoid them. Obviously, Malefic had thought the Rebels destroyed, so the threat level in the base was lowered. They made short work to the nearest exit, and surveyed their way forward.

Ahead of them, some fifty metres away, was the landing pad, still containing a cortosis clad shuttle, and two TIE Indomitable fighters. A pair of Imperial sharptroopers manned sentry points above the base walls, and there were about a dozen other Stormtroopers scattered around the open area. Various containers and fuel pods were scattered around the landing pad, which provided them with a modicum of cover. 

"Well, this looks easy." Wedge hissed.

"Its worse than you think. Look at the shuttle." Dak whispered in reply. Wedge turned in the direction Dak indicated and frowned. Standing at the boarding ramp was Ageis Malefic, flanked by two cortosis wearing troopers. 

"He's leaving?" Wedge asked.

"He assumes we're dead. The threat has been dealt with. Hes probably on his way back to micromanage his factory."

"We need that shuttle."

"But we'll never make it there in time. While avoiding the snipers, the troopers, or his bronze buddies over there." Dak sighed. Nothing was working out like it was supposed to.

"There's always the TIE fighters." Wedge said. "We could take those."

"Probably won't get us very far." Dak warned. "You know most TIEs lack hyperdrives."

"Of course." Wedge replied. "Maybe his Indomitable fighters include hyperdrives. Maybe they don't. But we can't let Malefic escape here. Either way, if we're in the air, we can take out his shuttle. That'll be a big enough blow to his precious project."

"Even if it means our lives?"

"I'm done running. It's time to take the fight to him."

R3 whistled urgently, indicating that Malefic had boarded his shuttle. Dak's heart sank. There was something else a TIE lacked: room for an astromech. Sensing his master's plight, R3 gave a reassuring beep.

"No buddy, I can't leave you behind." Dak protested. R3 gave an insistent whistle, and before Dak could answered, the droid reversed slightly, then went forward again. He continued to bump Dak, repeatedly, pushing his master away, towards his objective.

"It's now or never." Wedge insisted, gently.

"I'll be back R3. This isn't goodbye buddy. I'm coming back. Just stay safe!" Dak shouted, as he turned to follow Wedge. R3 warbled softly to himself as he watched them run. He might have been left behind, but he could still help his friends.

The pilots ran swiftly, catching the scattered Stormtroopers off-guard. By the time they managed to ready their weapons and fire, Dak and Wedge had already neared the fighters. 

"Its no good!" Wedge said over the staccato shrieks of Imperial blaster fire. "Can't make a break for the ladders, those snipers have us pinned down."

"Just be ready." Dak called back, as he watched R3 in the distance, trundling towards a fuel pod. The astromech passed the pod, deliberately leaking a trail of oil behind him. Once he reached a safe distance, he ignited the trail with his welding arm, and gave an electronic chuckle. The pod ignited, sending a shockwave across the landing pad. Several troopers near the blast were punched upwards by the concussive force. R3 cried out and wheeled himself behind cover , surprising himself by the severity if the explosion. 

"Now!" Dak yelled. The pilots dove for the ladders and clambered into their TIE fighters while the Imperial forces were distracted. Dak primed his fighter for take-off, flipping toggles and switches semi-frantically as he tried to recall the layout of Imperial controls. "Open fuel lines, ignition, weapons toggle..." he muttered. "Integrated life support, that's a bonus." The basic TIE models all relied on external life support systems fitted directly to a pilot's uniform. Given their lack of shields, this allowed a pilot to eject and survive in the vacuum of space long enough to be retrieved after a battle, a scenario the TIE Indomitable was designed to avoid.

"Dak, do you copy?" called Wedge, syncing up his comms array. "Ugh, these things handle like a drunken Bantha."

"I hear you Wedge. I thought TIEs were supposed to be nimble?"

"They are. It's how the Empire justifies the lack of shields. Stripped down for maximum efficiency, or so the propaganda says. But these things, the cortosis armour really weighs it down"

"Good thing they're designed to take a few hits then. Come on, let's get out of here. We have a shuttle to catch."

The twin fighters rose from the landing pad, unaffected by the remaining troopers below firing up at them. With a howling whine from the ion engines, the pair soared off in pursuit of Malefic. From his hidden position on the base below, R3 watched as the TIEs faded away into the distance, leaving him alone.

Star Wars: Old Wounds (12)

"Ok  so we're stuck in a closet, with two sleeping Stormtroopers." said Wedge, and he inspected one of the recovered blasters. "Tell we again why we're not going to steal a shuttle and leave immediately." 

"Because, R3 downloaded some schematics for Malefic's big project. Come, look." Dak waved a hand towards the astromech's holographic projector, which currently displayed a slowly rotating image of a TIE fighter. 

"So this is the TIE Indomitable. The thing that managed to shoot us down." Wedge said, as he examined the display.

"Shot you down." Dak corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"The TIE shot you down. I only crashed trying to save your life. For the record."

Wedge bristled with anger, but only to hide his embarrassment. 

"Fine. Whatever. But now we have the plans. How do we blow it up?"

"It's not gonna be that easy." Dak sighed. "I was afraid of this... the secret behind Indomitable, is cortosis."

"Never heard of it. I assume that's what they're mining here though? What's so bad about this 'cortosis'?"

"Its a very rare ore, only found on a handful of worlds in the entire galaxy. As far as I know only one other planet ever produced it in notable quantities."

"You've seen this stuff before? When?"

"I have. During the Clone Wars."

"Wait, hold on. Why was a smuggler like you fighting in the Clone Wars? You've never struck me as the ideological type."

"I didn't fight. Not exactly. But my services were available to the highest bidder."

So what, you helped transport this stuff to some arms dealer?" 

"Wedge, you wound me with such baseless accusations." Dak began to feign protest, but he dropped his act as he saw the steely edge in Wedge's eye. "Ok, keep this quiet, it kinda hurts my reputation. I ran a few unofficial trading routes, bringing vital supplies, food and medicine, to communities on the front lines. At cost price, sometimes cheaper to be honest."

"How does being charitable harm your reputation?" 

"Because 'nice' smugglers dont get far in this galaxy. Anyway, that's besides the point. I'd gotten into some trouble with some Republic authorities,  long story, so I ended up having to supply transport for a  Jedi and his clone squad. The whole thing was technically off the record, so they needed an unregistered ship."

"You're saying the Republic, and the Jedi, hired you for an unsanctioned mission." 

"Is that so hard to believe? Would I lie to you?"

"Yes. To both questions." Wedge folded his arms sternly, but gave the older pilot a quick grin.

"Doubt me if you like." Dak shrugged, also grinning. "Anyway, some Seperatist general had found a seam of cortosis, on a planet called Chrifsal. By the time we landed our little infiltration squad, they'd already set up a droid foundry. Each day saw another few hundred cortosis weaved battle droids joining their ranks. Both the skeletal BD-1 model and the more advanced assault class. They'd even started producing armoured tank prototypes."

"So they were like these TIEs? Immune to energy blasts?" 

"It was worse than that. Cortosis doesn't just absorb energy, it can channel and reflect it. Shooting at these droids just charged their energy cells. And it works on all energy weapons. Including lightsabers."

"It stops a lightsaber?!" 

"Contact with cortosis shorts the blade's energy matrix. Renders it useless for a few minutes, at least."

"So none of you had any useable weaponry. How did you manage to stop them?"

"I didn't do much of anything. The Jedi saved the day. He and his clones figured out the one weakness of cortosis ore. Its unique properties make its structure quite brittle. Concussive blasts, thermal detonators, and even Force attacks were all quite effective. But it still wasn't enough to take on an entire army. In the end, we set detonators below the foundry. The explosive force ravaged the mines below, cracking the ground open for miles as the cortosis lost its integrity. The whole base was consumed by a geological catastrophe. It wasn't one of the Republic's finest hours. But, the secret of cortosis was lost with that facility."

"Until now." Wedge surmised. "Wether Malefic somehow found those old Seperatist plans, or happened to discover cortosis' properties by himself, is irrelevant. We're on the brink of a similar technology today. I can see why you wanted us to stay. Does R3 know how far reaching the Admiral's reach spreads?"

"Scanning through the data now." Dak replied  focussed on the droid's output. "Several sites listed as potential factories, none have been selected yet. Some schematics for cortosis coated capital ships, thankfully those are provisional. Seems theres only one factory on record, listed as 'The Site', with no identifying markers." 

"Malefic did say, the heart of his operation is below this base. An underground factory perhaps?"

"Logistically, it would be awkward, but it keeps his work private, and he doesn't need to risk pirates intercepting his shipments. All in all, quite likely."

"Then its settled." Wedge said resolutely. "Malefic's toys cannot be allowed to spread across the galaxy. We have a chance to take out his operations, now, while his efforts are focussed in one place."

"Are you sure? We could wait for backup. R3 did send out our transmission." Dak asked, calmly. 

"You can't back out now old man, it was your idea. Besides, you know as well as I do that our backup will be minimal, even if Raddus does authorise it. And if by some miracle Raddus scrambles everything, they won't stand a chance against that Destroyer. This is our only opportunity."

"I know it is. But I want you to be sure before you commit. But whatever happens next, this colony is finished. Last time I faced this, we destroyed half a continent. Best case scenario, collateral damage is minimised, but the Empire abandons the mine as unprofitable. Either way, we're destroying the miners livelihoods." 

Wedge stopped to consider Dak's point. Fighting the Empire always left collateral, he'd made his peace with that. Every vessel, every base destroyed, was partially crewed by civilain staff. People who worked for the Empire yes, but many who had no alternative, some needing credits, others security for their family. Occasionally, he even managed to sleep without seeing their faces in his nightmares. 

But this was different. At least those who choice to work for the Empire had made a choice, however forced it was. But destroying an entire economy... could it be justified? Sloane was right, the Rebellion couldn't guarantee Andriss' security post Imperial rule. But then again, if he did not act, how many other worlds would suffer a similar fate. Was Andriss worth those other worlds? 

"This is why I stick to piloting. It's far less ethically challenging." Wedge said, finally. 

"You asked me once, why an old man stuck to piloting a Y-Wing. That's the reason." 

"So are we going to do this?"

"We don't really have a choice."

***

By the time the trio exited the supply closet, the Imperials had widened their search to the wider facility boundaries, leaving the base interior on a skeleton crew. They made quick progress towards the nearest turbolift, easily avoiding the scant patrols along the corridors. 

"Well, that looks promising." said Dak, as he observed the control panel. The lowest label's button was inactive.

"Private sub-floor." concurred Wedge. "R3, can you access it?"

The droid gave a quirky whistle, and activated the lift. They travelled in nervous silence, wondering what would await them below. Eventually, the lift began to slow, until it finally stopped with a resounding thunk.

"End of the line." Wedge murmured.

"Brace yourself. Anything could be waiting out there." Dak replied, as the doors slid open to reveal a small, carved out, chamber. The chamber was small, and apart from a number of crates, otherwise featureless. A narrow tunnel to the right of the lift extended deeper underground. 

"What have we here?" Dak asked, as he strode over to open the nearest crate. Wedge followed behind, watching over the other pilot's shoulder.

"Detonation packs? Must have been left over from the miners early expeditions. Mining cortosis with explosives sounds like a bad idea."

"But helpful for us." Dak added. "Come on, let's go further in. We'll come back for these once we know where the factory is."

With that, the proceeded down the gloomy tunnel. It was periodically lit by glow lamps, evenly spaced along the runner's length, but the dim light mostly accentuated the shadows between them. The darkness stretched and contorted between them, their own twisted silhouettes looming over them. Once again, Wedge wished he was safely confined within the cockpit of his X-Wing. 

After a time, the tunnel widened into a cavern, roughly dome shaped, with an approximate radius of five metres. The string of lights continued around its circumference and, by the tunnel's end, a wired comm station hung on the wall. Portable commlinks didn't have strong enough emitters to penetrate the dense rock around them, so all communications throughout the mine system has to be wired back to a central terminal above ground. Apart from these utilities, the cavern was empty. 

"No..." Dak whispered. 

"This can't be a dead end!" Wedge exclaimed. 

"Yet, it is. But that doesn't make any sense."

Both men jumped as a shrill ringing tone came from the comm station mounted on the wall. Warily, Dak walked towards it and carefully lifted the receiver. 

"Congratulations Rebels, you're even more foolish than I'd anticipated." boomed the smug voice of Grand Admiral Aegis Malefic. 

"Oh, karabast." Dak swore, softly.

"When I was notified the turbo lifts had travelled to the locked floor, I couldn't believe it. What exactly were you hoping to find down there?"

"Your TIE factory." Dak replied, devoid of the energy to fight. Argis laughed heartily.

"Why? Oh... Oh! Is this because I said the beating heart of my project lay beneath the base? That was a metaphor, you fools. The cortosis ore is the heart of my operation. The factories are above us, safely installed on my personal Star Destroyer. That cave you're in was abandoned due to structural instability."

Dak and Wedge shot each other disapproving looks, each silently blaming the other for their mistake. As Aegis continued, the pilots continued their wordless bickering.

"Sordy to disappoint you both, but you've lost your window to escape, not that it would have worked either way. Unfortunately, despite your continued failures, you have proven that you know too much about my plans. Any information you could give me is outweighed by the danger you represent. This is goodbye, Rebels. I guess you've blown your chances for the last time."

The line went dead. After a moments hesitation, Dak replaced the receiver and looked sorrowfully at Wedge. 

"So we were wrong, we can still force our way out." Wedge reasoned. "At worst we go down fighting." but he trailed off as he realised what Malefic had meant. Dak gave him a slow nod, as the ground shook beneath them. 

"The detonators! He'll bring the whole place down!" Wedge cried out in alarm.

"Just this tunnel, but yeah. Complete cave-in, with us crushed inside." Dak yelled in reply. 

"This is the last time I listen to one of your plans!" 

"Then you're in luck kid!" 

The roof above them was trembling now, as clouds of dust and debris rained down upon them. The rumbling grew stronger as the roar of a rippling, reflected explosion tore through the narrow cave. A burst of rock and flame shot from the tunnel opening, as the entire cavern crumbled into itself. 

"Wedge!" Dak cried, reaching out an extended arm towards his friend, but they were too far apart, and there was no way out. With thunderous percussion, the cave finished its total collapse.

Star Wars: Old Wounds (11)

It was unusual for an Admiral of the Imperial fleet to maintain an office away from their command ship. It was even more unusual that said office would be tucked away on a backwater mining world. Admiral Aegis Malefic prided himself on his ability to stand apart from the rank and file of the galaxy, however. His genius was, in his eyes, unparalleled. Project Indomitable was his latest creation, a TIE superior to any Rebel fighter, potentially even capable of taking on a cruiser without damage. A project he hoped would finally earn him the Emperor's favour, and a position among the elite on Coruscant. The secrecy of his research was the reason for he kept a semi-permanent presence on the base. Any of his underlings competent enough to manage the operation risked stealing Malefic's efforts as their own, and so he had to fill the role himself. 

The decor of the office matched that of its owner: impeccably kept, vaguely austere and draped only in materials worthy of his perceived station. His desk was large and imposing, made from real timber, not common sudowood, imported at great expense. Several paintings of wildly differing styles hung lavishly upon the walls. An Umbarran abstract painted in ultraviolet pigments, a six hundred year old portrait of a Naboo royal, a DuFhle Brothers original and more, all clashed with each other, their only connecting factor was their rarity. These were not the objects of an obsessive collector or the proud displays of an aficionado, but mere symbols of  elite status to a man like Aegis. 

Dak and Wedge were forced into the office by a pair of stormtroopers. With a sharp stabbing kick to the back of his knee, Dak was forced downwards into a subservient kneeling position, followed by Wedge. Their arms were bound behind their backs with sturdy, if tarnished, cuffs. Only afterwards did Admiral Malefic stride into the office, casting a sneering downward glance at the Rebels bound at his feet. He slowly moved past them and half leaned, half sat, on his desk, facing the pair.

"So, about those commendations..." Dak began, though was quickly silenced with the butt of a Stormtrooper's blaster.

"Humor is the weapon of fools and cowards." Aegis said, with a smirk.

"Pity. I've always wanted a commendation." sighed Wedge.

"Enough!" Malefic replied, sternly. "I have had quite enough of your antics. Obviously you won't leave here alive, but perhaps if you cooperate, the manner of your execution will be swift."

"You've never tried to sell a third-hand landspeeder on some Outer Rim mudball, have you?" Wedge asked earnestly, to which Malefic responded with bemused silence. "Because your bartering is terrible." As Dak failed to suppress a snort of derision, both pilots were again struck by their guards.

"Your attempts at comedy do not change your situation." Malefic crouched down and sharply turned Wedge's chin. "Besides, I only need one of you alive." With a slight raise of his hand, one of the Stormtroopers placed his rifle against the back of Wedge's head. Malefic flashed him a satisfied grin as he stood back. "Now, why are you here?"

"Because we crashed! We needed a way off this dust bowl." Dak said, urgency creeping into his voice. Malefic savoured his next breath.

"See how quickly the facade falls away? You concern for your friend is almost touching, truly." He stepped towards Dak. "But I meant, why are you on Andriss? Why attack my supply lines? How much do you know about Indomitable?"

"What?! I have no idea what an Indomitable is. We only chose Andriss because it was convenient. It's one of a thousand tiny outposts in this sector."

"I spoke too soon, it seems. You expect we to believe you're here by pure chance? "

"Pretty much, though you could say it was the will of the Force." interjected Wedge sardonically. "After all, we did stumble on your little TIE project".

"Oh, so that's what Indomitable means!" Dak exclaimed, with mock surprise.

"There is nothing 'little' about my masterwork. Indomitable will spell the end for your group of insurgents!" Malefic had risen to the taunt. "Beneath this facility lies the beating heart of Project Indomitable, and you expect me to believe you found it by accident? No, I don't think so. There must be a leak, a mole in the organisation, something! You will tell me everything you know, the work is too near completion to fail now!" The admiral paused, realising he'd lost control. He cleared his throat while taking a moment to compose himself. He brushed a stray lock of hair back into place with his off-hand, before continuing. "I will ask for the final time..."

He was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a nervous and out of breath officer. The officer stared aghast at the Rebel prisoners, as he realised what he had intruded upon. Malefic glared silently at the officer, his angled features would say enough. "Sorry for the interruption Grand Admiral, but we've detected an unsanctioned outgoing transmission. From the Imperial network."

"Contents?" Malefic queried.

"Unknown sir. The message was encrypted. And it can't be traced. The sender pinged it through an array of hyperspace buoys."

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. The Rebels were not acting alone after all. His mind raced, already computing the possibilities. A third Rebel? Some Y-Wings did have a co-pilot, but analysis of the fighter wreckage seemed to rule that out. A Rebel sympathiser among the miners? Unlikely to be able to access the Imperial comm centre, much less have security codes. A droid perhaps? Certainly possible. Most of the droids servicing the base were sourced locally, and lacked the regulation black and grey paintwork. It would be too easy for a saboteur to slip in. Nor could he rule out an Imperial turncoat. 

"Lockdown the base." he ordered. "No person or droid is allowed in or out of the mining complex. Check every ID code and operating number. If anyone is here who shouldn't be, I want them found. Troopers, take these two to the detention centre. I need to ruminate on these matters." 

***

R3-T3 trundled nervously through the seemingly endlessly winding Imperial corridors. He logged his ocular components as requiring repairs; This facility definitely didn't appear to be as big from the outside. The astromech liked to self diagnose in stressful situations, it distracted his processor from his current predicament. As he rounded the next corner, his vocorder gave an involuntary melancholy warbler. At the far end of the hallway, two stormtroopers were marching with purpose toward the droid.  No, he corrected, not towards him. They didn't even seem to be aware of R3's presence, instead they were escorting two prisoners. His photosensor widened in alarm, it was Masters Dogba and Antilles! Not that R3 was surprised by their capture. He'd never liked this plan. If he had lungs, the little astromech would have sighed. Once again, he had to rescue his Master. 

R3 veered away from his current path, to a point directly in from of the lead trooper.

"Move it, rust bucket." said the trooper, not breaking his stride. R3 beeped frantically. Behind the Stormtrooper, Dak gave his droid a sly wink, and waited for the opportune moment.

"I don't have time for this..." the trooper muttered. He raised a fist to halt his partner and their prisoners. "What are you trying to say droid?"

Despite have the processing power to perform thousands of complex calculations a second, R3 struggled to think on his feet. He considered over two hundred potential lies, but none passed his probabilistic algorithms with any certainty. He had no choice but to pick one, and hope the Stormtrooper was too preoccupied to think it through. He continued his insistent utterances.

"What's the holdup? These two need to be in lockup, or the Admiral will be furious." called the rear trooper.

"Its this droid. He says there's some unrest outside. Some of the miners are causing a scene, and we should go intervene before it kicks off." said the first trooper.

"Tell him to find someone else. We're busy." 

"I dunno, he sounds pretty concerned. Might be serious."

"Leave it. I'm not drawing the ire of the Admiral just because you're itching for a fight. If you want to blow off steam, head to the firing range after your shift." 

Between the bickering troopers, Dak turned to face Wedge and grinned. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he revealed his binders had become unfastened. "Old smuggling trick." he whispered. With a quick nod, both jumped into action. Dak sidestepped, allowing the still bound Wedge to tackle the leading trooper from behind. The trooper's white helmet cracked off of R3's verdant dome, while Dak swung a wide punch at the other. Within seconds, it was over. Both troopers were out cold, and the pilots were free. 

Dak leaned down towards his droid, patting it's dome fondly. "Thanks buddy. I owe you one." R3 gave a harsh burst of static. "Fine, I owe you two."

"We don't have long. We should go and steal the shuttle before we're discovered." said Wedge, interrupting.

"Wait. R3 needs to show us something. Come on, help me drag these two into that storage room. Then, we can take stock of where we stand."

Star Wars: Old Wounds (10)

"Greetings, my fellow denizens of the glorious Empire!" exclaimed Moff Wurmley, with feigned delight. Dak thought him an odious stub of a man, as wide as he was tall, a bulbous parcel of flesh and sweat, held together only by a constricting uniform and the unwavering sense of superiority of a man who spends his life failing upwards. 

"Now, as you are probably all aware, we have once again been the victim of a cowardly attack by Rebel insurgents." Wurmley muttered through his speech, rushing as if he was afraid he'd forget what he was saying if he spoke for too long. The gathered crowd began to jeer, some loudly wondering if further 'voluntary donations' would be asked for, others angry that the Rebels were not yet taken care of. 

"Now, I sense you're angry." stammered the Moff. "So am I. But we have struck a blow to our enemies..." He did not address the crowd directly, but aimed his speech above them, unwilling to make eye contact any of them. The crowd grew increasingly restless. 

"It has come to my, um, attention that there may be... Rebels... among you..." he uttered, flustered. The crowd continued to shout, while Dak and Wedge shared a worried glance.

"Enough!" cried a sudden, bold voice from behind the gathered crowd. The miners turned to see who had called out, and quickly, their murmuring died down. A figure had emerged from the shuttle on the landing platform. He stood tall, dressed in the pristine white tunic of a Grand Admiral. A half-cape billowed in the wind behind him, lined with red fabric, its edged embroidered in silver filigree. His jet black boots, perfectly polished, clacked neatly across the stony ground. His  chiseled features formed a striking image, with a lightly creased brow indicating his age. Combined with a well-trimed beard and greying temples, he appeared more dignified than merely old. He was flanking on either side by Stormtroopers, each clad in unusual, bronze hued armour.

"It appears that our Grand Admiral, Aegis Malefic, has decided to grace us with his presence." Wurmley announced, obsequiously. 

"That will be all, Atticus. I'll take it from here." replied the Admiral, as he took the Moff's place, pointedly refusing to shake the other man's outstretched hand.

"You are all busy people, so I shall be brief." The miners remained silent, seemingly stunned by Malefic's presence.

"Now, as you are painfully aware, Rebels have been attacking this base's supply routes for a number of weeks, despite the...best...efforts of Andriss' ruler here. As a result, I have personally intervened to ensure your protection, and to prevent further disruption to you all, and to your important work. We have already fended off the latest Rebel assault, though I'm sure you've heard the rumours by now. Two pilots were shot down last night. We believe them to have perished, but we cannot rule out their survival until we find their bodies."

"See?" Dak whispered in Wedge's ear. "Nothing to worry about, they think we're dead." Wedge didn't reply.

"However, if any of you have any information on these Rebels, I urge you to come forward. If any of you have helped these Rebels, know we will find out. You face a choice, to aid the Empire, and be a hero, or give refuge to our enemies and face the consequences. After all, none of you, I'm sure, would like to become the reason for further rationing efforts. The sooner these Rebels are dealt with, the sooner your full privileges can be restored." 

Malefic began to stroll through the crowd, casually glancing at the ID numbers stitched onto chests of the miner's jumpsuits. 

"The Empire rewards compliance. The Empire rewards loyalty. That is why I wish to honour the achievements of two of your number... ahh..!" he said, pointing with a flourish at Dak and Wedge. 

"Still think this was a good plan?" hissed Wedge. Dak didn't reply.

"These two loyal workers recently brought to our attention evidence of Rebel sympathisers organizing among the workforce." continued the Admiral. Dak glanced downwards at his armband, finally recognising its design. The mark of an Imperial informant. A quisling's band. He cursed his own sorry luck.

"Thanks to your bravery and dedication, the dissident cell was summarily dealt with, and is no longer a concern." He smiled at the pair, teeth gleaming like those of an apex predator. "I have personally arranged my visit to bestow upon you a great honour. You are to accompany these Stormtroopers to my office to recieve a commendation. The rest of you..." Malefic announced, turning to face the gathered mob, may go about your day, safe in the knowledge that the Rebel threat is very nearly extinguished!"

"Maybe this is a good thing." Dak whispered. 

"Do you honestly believe that?" replied Wedge, tersely.

"Unfortunately not. Let's hope R3 is having an easier time."

***

R3 trundled through the narrow corridors of the administritive building, twisting his dome from side to side nervously. He realised he was warbling anxiously to himself, and forced himself to stop. Instead, the droid began to whistle, almost nonchalantly, as he continued his search for the communications station. One of his internal sensors indicated a drop in pressure of his hydraulic fluid. His shoulder joint was beginning to drip again, which didn't help his disposition.

Despite his fears, the astromech has already made great progress. After he left his master, he joined a group of droids queueing to replace the previous shift. Sandwiched between a dark coloured protocol droid and a limping gonk unit, he made his way through the security checkpoint. The pair of stormtroopers on guard were inattentive, deep in arguement over rival swoop bike manufacturers. Once he was inside, he wasn't given a second glance, just another droid out of the dozens going about their daily routines inside the walls of of the base.

As the nervous droid rounded yet another corner, he trilled with delight upon arriving at a communication terminal, tucked discreetly into an alcove. Retracting his central stabilising leg, he waddled into position and inserted his data probe into the access port. He cast one last furtive glance by spinning his dome, before transferring his message. Every second it took to transmit seemed like a hour to his processing unit, increasing the odds of his discovery, until finally he recieved confirmation of his signal. Yet, despite his success, R3 did not feel relief, or even a simulation of the emotion. Instead, he uttered a series of concerned beeps, as he scanned a stream of internal messages passing through the terminal, concerning two fugitives.

***

Aboard the freighter "Centurion", Lara Sarvak was crouched by an access panel, simultaneously attempting to replace a sub-alternator on the hyper drive control matrix, and fend off the incessant advances of Wes Janson. 

"Sure you don't need any assistance?" asked the pilot, through a smirk. "You know, I'm very good with my hands. Ask anyone."

"I did actually." replied Lara, without turning away from her repairs. "They all told me the same thing: Watch out for Wes. He's a bit of a creep."

"Hey.." he replied, seemingly hurt, though it only took him a second to bounce back. "It's just one of the many comparisons between me and a rash. I'm also irritating, unsightly and very persistent."

Lara laughed, and turned to face him, flashing a slight smile. "Not to mention your rash decisions..." she started, before giving up on her own joke, mentally kicking herself.

"Maybe leave the one liners to me. You stick to the withering comments." he laughed. Lara wondered,  not for the first time, if he was even capable of taking anything seriously. "It's like Wedge always says..."

Then she saw it, a flicker of concern in the pilot's eyes, quickly brushed over. Wes needed to be irreverent, she realised. He had to be loud, always talking, to drown out the silence. Every pilot in the Rebellion had the same fears: the fear of their own deaths, obviously, but also the deaths of their comrades. Every mission was someone's last, after all. The Empire kept their pilots faceless, homogenized, replaceable. Pilots were discouraged from fraternising, but in the Rebellion, squadrons were family. They shared everything, they were each other's support, both in the air and outside the cockpit. Every mission they faced was against impossible odds, against a foe with superior numbers and firepower. Mortality rates were astronomical, so the friendships between pilots were often intensely deep and very brief. Everyone had their own way of dealing with their ghosts, and bluster was how Wes coped with his.

"I'm sure Wedge is fine. That they're both fine." Lara said, softly. 

"Course they will. They have to. I need to ridicule Wedge about being shot down by a TIE. Oh, he'll never hear the end of this one!" Wes replied, coolly. Lara saw a softening of his eyes, and she smiled in response. 

With a sudden shrill alert, their attention was drawn to the ship's main console. Lara sprinted towards it, hopping deftly over piles of spare parts and open gratings, while Wes followed behind somewhat less gracefully. 

"It's a transmission from Andriss." Lara called behind her, as she sank into her flight chair. "From R3, using Dak's personal code."

"Don't describe it, play the damn thing!" replied Wes, settling in the seat beside Lara. She flicked a switch on the console, and a small fuzzy hologram appeared before them, of two figures dressed in Rebel flight suits.

"This message will be brief." Dak's hologram explained. "Wedge and I survived our 'landing' on Andriss, but we are without transportation. The Empire is using this planet to test a new type of TIE fighter, one impervious to conventional blaster fire. The material from which they're made appears to absorb and reflect energy at an astounding rate. We believe this material is mined from this facility. This new technology must be destroyed now, before these advanced fighters are issued across the galaxy. We intend to infiltrate the compound, liberate an Imperial shuttle, and make our escape, with whatever information we can extract. However, escape will be impossible while Andriss remains under Imperial blockade. We will require support from the fleet to cause a distraction, if we are to escape, with information on this new threat. We will be unable to receive communications, and so trust that backup will arrive.  If not, we are willing to die for our efforts. Our position here is untenable, so we cannot wait. There is no time to formulate an alternative plan. If you receive this message, we are already inside the facility, so time is short. We will stall for as long as possible before attempting to escape, but I doubt we can remain undetected for long. If help doesn't arrive, if we die in the attempt, they may this message stand as an early warning for these new TIEs."

The message cut off with a hiss of static. 

"At least they're alive." Wes shrugged. "That's good news. A potential fleet of indestructible TIEs, not so much." He remembered the damage inflicted by a handful of those fighters over Andriss, and dreaded to think about what a whole fleet could do. Let alone capital ships armored in the same material.

"What are we going to do?!" exclaimed Lara, as she slammed the console in frustration. "Admiral Raddus will never sanction a rescue mission with these odss. And even if he did, we don't have anywhere near the firepower to confront a Destroyer." 

"Dont be so defeatist. I can be very persuasive. A little bit of Janson charm will be enough to win over old fishface. You'll see." Wes replied with a wink, as Lara buried her face in her hands, letting out a silent roar of frustration. 

Star Wars: Old Wounds (9)

"That went well." Wedge sighed, as they trudged away from Sloane's residence, with R3 trundling behind them.

"Shut up." Dak replied, without turning back to face Wedge.

"This is why I leave diplomacy to the senators. I'm a pilot: Give me a target, I blow it up. Simple."

"Its rarely so black and white. I've never had time for absolutes." said Dak as he pivoted to lay a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Take the TIE pilots we fly against, most of them are young, fresh out of the Imperial Academies, just looking for an opportunity to leave their homes."

"I was one of them." Wedge admitted. "Until I found a better cause."

"Exactly. The Empire is built on malice, corrupt to its core, yet often its most loyal subjects are ordinary, decent people. That's the worst part. The galaxy is too busy tearing itself apart to realise who its true enemy is."

"So how do we fight that? How can you make someone act against their own self interest, and do the right thing?"

"You don't. You can't. Everyone has to make that decision for themselves." Dak sighed. "I used to think that setting a good example was enough. But look at the Jedi, supposedly paragons of virtue, heroes to be emulated, but in the end as corrupt and fallible as anyone else."

"So what keeps you going? In the face of all that, if people can't be helped, why bother?" 

"Honestly, I don't know anymore. Stubbornness, if anything. I still fight because I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. And maybe, if enough of us choose to stand up, one day we might actually make a difference." 

With that, the two men continued to hike in contemplative silence. Upon reaching the brow of a nearby outcrop, they found themselves overlooking the Imperial mining facility nestled in a valley below. A small gravel path snaked from their vantage point, down towards a small open area in front of a set of imposing durasteel gates. The base was surrounded by a thick duracrete wall, at least 10-feet tall on three sides. The rear of the enclosure backed up onto a shear cliff face, the base of which was dotted with crudely carved entrances to various mineshafts. The region within the barricades was dived in two by a modest chain link fence. On one side stood a prefabricated building consisting of modular offices, the same architecture as any Imperial base found on countless worlds. Next to the admisistrative building there was a landing pad on which sat an Imperial shuttle, and two modified TIE fighters with an unusual bronze colouration. The other side of the fence was clearly designated for the miners, with scattered mess tents, tool storage and workshops, along with a number of lumbering load lifters obeying their scheduled tasks. A much sturdier road snaked along the valley floor, linking the facility to a small town in which the miners resided. 

"So, what's the plan?" asked Wedge, as they surveyed the camp below them.

"Why must I have a plan? I've been in charge ever since you fell out of the sky. And you out rank me. Technically."

"Fine, fine." muttered Wedge, as he looked through a pair of cracked macrobinoculars. "We could try and commandeer the shuttle, make a break for it?"

"Risky, with the Destroyer blocking the colony. It's a toss up between a tractor beam or straight up vaporisation by ventral cannon. Neither would be ideal."

"Then we get into the facility, patch R3 into the comms system and call for assistance."

"One problem, assuming we survive long enough for help to arrive. There's nowhere near enough firepower in our fleet to take on a destroyer, even if we could convince them to get here." explained Dak.

"We don't need to take it out. Not really."

"How do you figure that? Are you going to ask the Moff really nicely to let us pass?"

"We only need a few ships, enough to cause a distraction. While the Imps turn to deal with them, we take the shuttle and slip away."

"Wedge, when we get back home, you're getting your head examined. I think the crash affected you worse than I thought."

"Do you have a better plan?" Wedge replied, a slight grin creeping across his face.

"On second thought, I love this plan. I'm excited to be a part of it!"

*****

The pilots continued down a gravel trail, descending from their vantage point into the valley below. There was a rough path through the loose shale which they followed, sticking to the shadows where possible as night slowly became dawn. Along the main thoroughfare below them, the first miners were already travelling from the town, to take their places during the next shift change. 

As Dak and Wedge reached the valley floor, they took cover behind a parked load-lifter, and studied the gathered crowd of miners. A couple dozen men had already gathered, split into several groups who were conversing and laughing before their shifts began. However, a solitary pair took Dak's interest, as they were distinctly isolated from the rest. 

"Those two don't seem popular." Dak whispered, drawing Wedge's attention to them with a pointed nod.

"Look at their armbands. Supervisors? Management? Might explain why nobody wants to chat with them?" 

"Possibly. But it is an opportunity. Be ready for my signal." 

"Wait!" Wedge hissed in reply, but it was too late. Dak had already begun to slink towards an adjacent load-lifter, and towards the two isolated miners. As he crept forward, he scooped up a handful of small pebbles from the ground. When he reached his position, a few metres away from the two men with only a load-lifter between them, he tossed the first stone towards their feet. One of the men looked up briefly at the noise before returning to his conversation. The second rock bounced off his boot. 

Dak watched the man through a gap in the load-lifter's frame. He saw anger flare across his face, tinged with a brief flash of resignation in his eyes, as if this was not an unusual occurrence. He tapped his partner on the shoulder and walked in the direction from which Dak has tossed the rocks, muttering quietly about how "they're at it again."

The pair adopted a wide, intimidating stance as they approached the load-lifter. As they crossed around its front, Dak snuck around the opposite side and kept going, looping behind them. The pair stood side by side, looking ahead as Dak maneuvered behind them. With a quick hand signal towards Wedge, he swung a fist into the side of the first man's head. The man fell to the ground, and the other spun around, catching Dak by the throat before he could react. "You'll pay for that, Rebel scum..." he snarled, just before Wedge jabbed his ribs from behind. The man wheezed and doubled over in pain. Dak charged him, driving him to the floor. In the span of a few moments, both miners were unconscious. Wedge looked around nervously, expecting others to have heard the struggle, but nobody came. 

"If you're done gazing around, help me strip these guys." grunted Dak, as he undid the first set of overalls.

"Excuse me?" Wedge exclaimed.

"Keep it down! And give me a hand, unless you'd prefer to infiltrate that base in your very orange flightsuit."

"Next time, tell me your plan first. You could have gotten us killed." hissed Wedge angrily. "I thought you were tired of making plans anyway."

"I was. I am. But you were taking too long." replied Dak with a shrug. "Now come on, the shift is changing soon and we still need to hide these two."

*****

A short time later, the two unconscious miners lay bound and gagged in the back of a load-lifter. Dak and Wedge, in their new uniforms, joined the growing throng of people in front of the facilities gates. 

"Stop fidgeting." Dak whispered. "You look ridiculous." 

"Of course I do. You just had to pick someone two sizes larger than me..."

"Its not like I had a choice." Dak replied defensively. "Just act casual, and we'll get through this."

"I hope R3 is having an easier time." 

"He'll be fine. He always is." 

Dak had sent the astromech droid to join the Imperial droid pool. It would have been too risky to bring him with them as the miners changed shifts, so R3 had to find his own way in by a secondary security gate designated for the mining droids. Dak had, overs the years, fitted the stubby green droid with an array of advanced and somewhat illegal infiltration modules and deception subroutines for such occasions. However, he had a tendency to tremble uncontrollably or leak oil while 'undercover', due to a persistent software glitch Dak had been unable to pinpoint. Something in his motherboard made the poor droid a nervous wreck. Dak smiled to himself as he wondered who would stand out more, Wedge or R3. 

The droid had been given a recorded message from the pair, explaining their plight and requesting assistance. His orders were to get into the base's communications array and send an encrypted transmission to Lara, while the pilots tried to liberate a transport. 

Dak and Wedge ceased chatting as a siren blared out from speakers atop the gate. As the noise ceased, the gates slid open with a mechanical screech, and the night shift workers began to trudge outside, accompanied a squad of Stormtroopers who took positions around the entrance. Some miners stopped briefly to chat with the new shift waiting outside, but most kept waking, either out of tiredness or fear of the Stormtroopers watching them. The pilots waited until a few others began to head inside, then followed in their footsteps. As the strode past the Stormtroopers, Wedge found himself staring directly ahead, desperate to avoid eye contact with any of the bulky white helmets surrounding him. He missed being in a cockpit, and the feeling of control he had while flying. Down here, he felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But he kept walking regardless.

They followed the group into the main courtyard, until a group of Imperial officers halted them. Wedge's eyes widened with fear, but sensing his friend's panic, Dak silently urged calm. 

"What's this all about?" called one of the miners, as he approached an officer. "We got a shift to get started. We've got your precious quotas to fulfil." A couple of others cheered on their fellow with boisterous shouts, but were quickly silenced when a group of troopers raised their blasters threateningly. The accosted officer help up a hand, and the troopers relaxed. Slightly. "Come now, no need for unpleasantness. You local ruler and generous benefactor, Moff Atticus Wurmly merely wishes to address you all on the topic of Rebel attempts to disrupt this mighty facility, and the vital work you do here. Don't worry, it shall be brief."

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Wedge sighed.

Star Wars: Old Wounds (8)

Dak's eyes fluttered open, struggling against the oppressive brightness of his surroundings. While his vision acclimatized, he tried to move, with limited success. His limbs were heavy and stiff, each muscle groaning under the strain, but, he noted with slight relief, nothing seemed to be broken. He staggered to his feet, unsteady, weary, but without any particularly grievous pain. He found himself standing over a makeshift bed fashioned from old sheets and blankets, in what seemed to be a shed littered with dust, industrial tools and other detritus. On the opposite side of the room, he noticed a second figure also on a pile of cloth, Wedge! Dak rushed to his friend's side, checking his condition. Miraculously, Wedge was alive, and in reasonably good health, considering the crash they'd both endured. The worst of his injuries seemed to be a broken arm, which was bandaged in a bacta-cast. Dak stared for a few long moments as the healing liquid bubbled trough the network of narrow tubes encasing Wedge's left forearm, trying to recall how they'd ended up there.

He remembered nudging Wedge's X-Wing, trying to guide it with a tractor beam, and their eventual impact upon Andriss's surface. He and his droid, R3, emerged relatively unscathed, and he remembered racing towards the crater where Wedge had come down. Then, it got hazy. The acrid smell of leaking fuel, smoldering wreckage, ripping open the semi-shattered cockpit canopy, dragging Wedge out, a fireball, a cloaked figure emerging from the shadows, then darkness.

Dak creased his brow anxiously. He didn't like mysteries, or relying on the supposed kindness of strangers. He'd remained alive in the smuggling business because he kept his distance, looked out for himself. The idea that someone had just taken in two injured pilots was suspicious to a man like Dak. But he was also pragmatic enough to be grateful, nonetheless.

"We'll get out of this, Wedge." he said to his unconscious friend. "Just hang in there, okay buddy?"

A short time later, Wedge began to stir.

"What happened last night?" he said, voice cracking.

"You tried to drink Wes under the table." Dak replied, with forced mirth. "Of course, after the Eridian gin, it gets a bit fuzzy."

"My arm?" Wedge muttered, observing his cast for the first time.

"Okay, real talk. You were shot down by Imperials. Wes got out okay but I lost my ship trying to keep you from becoming a tiny streak of carbon burned into this lousy rock."

"No. Not possible. I don't get get shot down."

"Well, that's what happened, unless you want to claim it was falling with style?" said Dak. "The Empire's got some shiny new TIEs, impervious to conventional weapons fire. If we can't find out how they work and figure out a way of shutting down production soon, then we may as well kiss this rebellion goodbye."

"I think you've got bigger problems in your immediate future." boomed a deep gravelly voice from the shed's doorway. "Alone, injured, and trapped on an Imperial mining colony. Which by the way, currently has a Star Destroyer blockading the planet."

Wedge forced himself upwards using his elbows, to confront this new arrival, but the strain he applied to his injured arm caused him to slump downwards again. Dak swivelled around, eyes narrowing with caution as he observed the intruding figure. He was a tall, stocky man probably in his late forties, though the heavy lines scored across his face added a decade to his appearance. His eyes were old and harsh, sunk into a craggy face littered with wrinkles and scars. Rough, uneven stubble framed his weary face, extending up to meet his similarly cropped, fading hair. His hands were large, strong, and covered with thick calluses.

"You're the one who found us in the wreckage." Dak stated, with belated recognition. "I suppose a thank you is in order." His tone was neutral, bordering on friendly, yet he remained wary of this seemingly helpful ally.

"Sloane Fell, mining sub-subsupervisor, night shift. Just be glad I found you before any of the patrols." The man answered cheerily.

"And you just took us in, out of the kindness of your heart?" Dak asked, pointedly. "I'm sure the Imperials would reward anyone with information on two rebellious fugitives. Rare to find a person who values morality above credits." As he continued to probe their rescuer, Dak couldn't help but feel the lack of weight tugging at his waist, due to an empty holster.

"Being straight with ya, I value my freedom above either." replied the man as he met Dak's glare with one of his own. "Best way to avoid trouble is to avoid attention. Bringing down the wrath of that sniviling Moff sounds like attention to me."

"Yet you took us in. You could have just left us in the wreckage." added Wedge, with some effort.

"In which case I may as well have just shot you both. Death sentence either way." He sighed, before continuing: "Look, I happened to walking along the ridge when I saw you come down. I was close enough to help, so I did. I couldn't live with just doing nothing and letting you die, so I got you to my cabin before the Imps came knocking. I can't house you for more than a few days, without drawing suspicion, but that should be long enough for you both to heal up and arrange safe passage."

Dak was still unsure if he could trust the man, despite how sincere he appeared to be, so he tested the water again. "If the Empire is going to come looking for us though, perhaps we should be armed? Could you return my blaster, by any chance?"

Sloane shook his head in reply, but upon noticing Dak's deepening scowl, he added "Must have been lost in the crash, you weren't carrying anything when I found you.... but feel free to borrow one of those mining lasers. Limited charge, but should pack enough of a punch on the highest settings, if that'll make you feel better."

"And my droid? Where have you hidden R3?"

"Not hidden. He took off towards the condenser relay about half a klick that way." Slone said, pointing westward. "He's a loyal little machine. Refused to leave your side for hours, until my protocol droid convinced him to help with a recalibration. Your droid is as loyal as mine is... relentless."

In spite of his own suspicions, Dak laughed. While still unsure if they could fully trust Slone, he certainly made it difficult not to. Not that he and Wedge really had a choice anyway, there wasn't much of an alternative. After a little more convincing, they decided there was nothing to do but rest, wait until nightfall, then come up with a plan. Attempting anything else during daylight hours would be too easy to draw the attention of a passing patrol.

***

As the last remnants of the light faded away from outside the windows of the modest domicile, the three men had reconvened for a light meal. Slone's protocol droid was clearing away the remnants of supper. Designated A-1FN, or 'Al', its ancient casing was a mix of scavenged spare parts, with rust being the only unifying theme to its colour scheme. R3 followed along behind Al, warbling a series of unwanted suggestions, attempting to improve his fellow droid's efficiency, despite Al's continued protestations.

"So, what do you know about Andriss?" Sloane asked, while mopping up the few remaining crumbs from his plate.

"Not much, mining colony, moderate resources, fairly unimportant." Dak replied with a shrug.

"I think what my friend means to say is that..." started Wedge, before Solane shushed him.

"Spare me the platitudes, it's true." admitted Slone. "This colony was founded about 200 years ago, when some probes from the Mining Guild suggested it showed mild interest. Nobody's dug out anything other than mediocre quality ore since."

"If you'll excuse the question, why is it still here then? Surely there are more profitable planets you could have moved to?" Wedge asked, pleasantly.

"Stubbornness, plain and simple. We were born here, as were our fathers, and their fathers. We belong here, not that the powers that be ever saw it that way."

"What do you mean?" Dak asked.

"Andriss has never had a voice in the Senate. We're too small to be considered an official colony world. Same with the Guild. Our production isn't valuable enough to give us any say. No control over the regulations that bind us, or the rules which govern us." Sloane ranted, his face reddening with indignation. "But still we've clung on, dug in, and kept on working."

"Why not channel those frustrations against those who cause them? The Empire won't give you a say, why not help us?" urged Wedge. "The Alliance wants to help planets like yours."

Sloane scoffed, and clapped his hands suddenly. "It was the same under the Republic as the Empire, kid. Your Alliance won't be any different."

"But..." Wedge started, but was cut off.

"Don't even bother. You talk a good game, full of hope and wishes, but what about cold, hard, honest facts? If Andriss signed up to your little Rebellion, how would you ensure we continue to get contracts? What kind of tariffs will we face? If the Empire comes back looking for the resources you've denied them, will you defend us? I doubt you have the firepower to repel even a single Star Destroyer."

Wedge couldn't help but feel frustration of his own. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but we want to help anyone subjugated by the Empire."

"Wedge." Dak said, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder. He gave a quick look, urging caution against a pointless argument.

"Help? Don't make me laugh. Let me tell you what your help has done for us, shall I? You've been raiding transports coming to resupply the base, three or four times now. What do you think happens after each one? Sloane jeered. Wedge was silent, fearing he already knew the answer.

"They take food from us. Increase rationing, horde everything for themselves. If you liberate machinery, we're forced to dig regardless, with broken tools. Backbreaking labour, for little reward. Your attempts to disrupt their supply lines only affect us, not the Imperials."

"What would you have us do?" asked Wedge in response. "Stand by, not interfere, let the Empire expand until nowhere is safe, or free? If the gain any more control, there will be no resistance. No options, except subservience."

"Call this resisting? You say you want to help, but what you do only hurts the people like me. Citizens, trying to make a living. All the while the Empire continues without challenge. You haven't a hope of stopping them directly, so you raid their supply lines, winning little victories here and there, patting yourselves on the back while nothing changes. If you want to help, take out the Emperor, and leave us innocents out of it. All you're managing to do is bloody the Empire's nose, while innocent civilians pay the price." Sloane said, seething.

"Enough!" bellowed Dak, loud enough to silence the room. "Our actions have consequences, of course they do, but get some perspective man! Now, I'm sorry our efforts have inconvenienced you, truly I am, but look at the Empire. It bleeds worlds dry, enslaves entire populations, suppresses facts and instills fear into billions if not trillions. It is evil, and must be fought. Doing anything else is merely condoning their actions. Call us the enemy if you wish, if it helps you sleep at night. I'm stained by the blood of innocent lives, but don't pretend your hands are clean. Every crime of the Empire is one in which its citizens are complicit."

"But nobody can do it alone. We don't have the resources to face the Imps head on. Only by standing together, in defiance, can the Galaxy hope to free itself." continued Wedge.

"It's all too easy to sit on the sidelines, as long as you're able to ignore the harm the Empire causes. Surely taking a stand, resisting its evil, is worth some mild personal suffering? Compared against the plight of political prisoners, of the slave labour camps, the xenophobia, all rampant under Imperial rule?"

"I will not be berated, in my own home, by a pair of fanatical terrorists!" Sloane roared, his head now tinged apoplectically purple. The Rebel's words had cut him surprisingly deep, and even he was taken aback by the vitriol in his voice. "Get out now, leave me alone, and I might not alert the Stormtroopers!"

***

Star Wars: Old Wounds (7)

The crumpled remains of Wedge's X-Wing tumbled through the upper atmosphere of Andriss, blazing like a meteor. Thankfully, the damage had mostly affected the wings, engines and nosecone, leaving the cockpit relatively untouched. Dak stabbed at the communication panel of his fighter, in a futile attempt to reach his wingman. His droid warbled hurriedly in his ear.

"Thanks R3." he replied, breathing a small sigh of relief. R3 had managed to connect to the X-Wing's telemetry, and found that while Wedge was unconscious, his flight suit was reporting a steady pulse. Not that it would matter for long if they couldn't get the broken shell of a starfighter under control.

"Buddy, any chance you can remotely access his engines?" Dak asked while consulting the altimeter. R3 gave a negative chirp in response.

"How about repulsorlifts?" Another negative bleep. Dak cursed under his breath.

"Okay, think. Think." he said, urging himself.

"Ready the tractor beam, R3." It was a long shot, and Dak knew it. Tractor beams were almost utterly useless when fitted on small, one-man craft, useful only for deflecting slow-moving space debris too big to bounce off a deflector shield. Missiles moved too fast for the generators to get a lock-on, and also only works on objects significantly smaller than the operating craft. A tractor beam operates on a principle of equal and opposite reaction, thus, attempting to use it on anything larger than a droid would only pull a fighter towards its target. But it was the only thing Dak could think to try. With careful speed modulation, he intended to repeatedly grab and release Wedge, hoping to act as a brake by slowly leeching the falling fighter's velocity.

With a calming sigh, he activated the beam, to no effect. He had missed! Dak grunted, then tried again, also failing. Wedge was simply falling to rapidly to latch onto. R3 echoed a mournful melody.

"Less of that buddy." said Dak, determined. "Trust me."

With that, Dak increased his throttle and soared forwards until he was directly beneath the X-Wing. R3 began to screech in alarm, but Dak shushed the droid, saying, "Relax, I've got this." He almost believed himself. Almost. Then he began to fly upwards. With a sudden deafening thud and a wail of colliding metal, he made contact with Wedge's fighter. As long as he maintained his speed and trajectory, they we both fine, but one slip, one errant twitch could send either spiralling out of control. Dak tried not to think about that eventuality.

He risked a brief glance upwards, towards the jagged stump of the X-Wing's nose. Mentally, he followed the shape of the ship back, working out how the two ships were connected. Thanks to the particular shape of the Y-Wing, it's parallel engine cores acted like rails, holding the other ship by its wing structure, while the bulk of it nestled in the hollow area behind Dak's cockpit. The Y-Wing was a sturdy hunk of a ship, dating back to the early Clone Wars, where it had been the backbone of many successful campaigns. Here, it was serving the same purpose, in a far more literal sense. With the practised deftness of an ace pilot, Dak began to decrease his throttle, while banking the front of his craft slightly. He winced at the shuddering, shifting mound of mangled metal above him, as he slowly robbed it of its momentum. With each movement, the weight distribution upon the Y-Wing fluctuated, requiring Dak to constantly react just to maintain control. It was like trying to juggle while skiing down an icy peak, during an avalanche, an event which Dak had surprising experience of.

Slowly, both ships began to slow to a more measured pace. Below them, the craggy outcrops of Andriss still zoomed past, but we're no longer the chaotic blur they had appeared to be. Though Dak couldn't help but note that they were much closer to said ground, and he still had to work out a way to land safely.

"Not now!" growled Dak as several warning lights lit up simultaneously. R3 summarized the faults in a rapid flurry of beeps.

"Multiple structural weaknesses, aft fuel compressors offline, failing motivators..." he muttered, repeating the droid. As good as his ship was, it couldn't withstand much more punishment.

"We've got to set down, now!" he exclaimed. "Let's try the tractor beam again." Once again, Dak attempted to activate the tractor beam. Unsurprisingly, he managed to lock on this time.

"Now for the fun part." he said, as he drifted away from under Wedge. His entire ship began to shudder under the tractor's strain. Both ships struggled as they began to balance around a point midway between them, like two balls connected by a rope, each mass pulling the other. Sweat glistened on Dak's brow as he struggled to maintain event a semblance of control over the system. In a testament to his talent, he discovered a series of subtle inputs which helped to control both ships, but it was still a terrifyingly complex and chaotic system. More alarms and warning signalled the imminent failure of this own ship's critical system. He was losing control, and both ships began to circle each other, drifting in gyroscopic synchronicity like a pair of bolas. He checked his velocity one final time, with a short exhalation of breath. He wasn't going to be able to slow them down much more, and the ground was skimming past very close now. All he could do from here was trust in the Force and hope.

"Good luck Wedge." he said to his friend, as he braced for impact. "And may the Force be with....". His final words were cut off by the impact of both fighters with the Rocky terrain below.