Chapter Text
“During the Clone Wars, the Grand Army of the Republic relied on a single template - to the detriment of its starfighter corps.”
- Excerpt from assigned reading at the Anaxes War College.
1
“We may have a lead on how we lost so badly at Xyquine. It’s only rumor, but Mirax heard talk from the fringe that the Imps could have some Dark Jedi helping them now. And whispers of a new fleetwide commander - maybe even one of the grand admirals.”
Commander Todra Mayn’s voice was quiet and worried as she talked to the other three A-Wing pilots standing around her - lieutenants Dorset Konnair, Radie Felian, and Linna Irarch.
Dorset, almost 21 and a Coruscant native, was the youngest of the three. Her night-black hair was cut close to the shoulders, and her sleeveless custom flightsuit showed part of her tattoo array. She had dreamed of being a pilot her whole life, and enlisted with Starfighter Command both to fly and to help liberate other worlds as Rogue Squadron had freed her own.
Linna had similar motivations, though she’d joined before Naboo’s liberation and served in Ace Squadron then transferred over to Polearm. Linna had curly golden-blonde hair and green eyes. Off duty, she seemed irrepressibly carefree - it was her way to help boost unit morale.
Then there was Radie, a Corellian woman with red-orange hair and cold brown eyes. The other two became combat pilots to do their part and would have been just as happy flying as civilians. Radie, however, joined to fight. She didn’t enjoy it, but would do whatever was necessary to end rule by the Imperials and other oppressive groups throughout the galaxy. The bitter irony was that her planet remained part of the Empire, following the disastrous attempt to liberate Corellia.
But at least we might have a hint at how that ambush happened.
Dorset wasn’t sure which was worse, or less likely - that a force-sensitive survived the Imperial purges, only to join their ranks; or that New Republic Intelligence hadn’t eliminated the last of the fabled and feared grand admirals after all.
“What’s the source on this rumor?” Radie asked as she moved next to Dorset and looked back toward Sivantlie Base. “We should head over and pack our stuff, just in case.”
“It’s conjecture at this point - a sabacc dealer who used to work on the Errant Venture was in a tapcaf and heard a couple Imperial lieutenants on leave talking about it. Hopefully it’s nothing but drunken exaggerations. Skywalker could be able to authenticate the Dark Jedi part soon at least,” Mayn answered. “NRI hasn’t deemed it credible enough to brief Mon Mothma and the Provisional Council yet; they don’t want to have it leak out and cause a panic unnecessarily.”
Radie snickered derisively upon mention of the Council, then blushed at Mayn’s withering glare. The former leader of Polearm Squadron wasn’t fond of Radie’s frequently scornful view of them.
“Officially, General Crespin can’t change his policies yet - so a lot of squadrons are still assigned to convoy escort. Off the books, he wants us to be ready for rapid action,” the commander said.
General Edor Crespin, now chief of staff for Starfighter Command, had been in charge of Dorset and Radie’s training unit at Folor. That connection certainly had its benefits for the former pilots in Blue and Gold squadrons there, though Crespin himself was now stuck between political and military duties. Getting taken off the line to serve as his aide would be Radie’s personal hell.
Mirax Terrik had joined them, her face drawn. “I’ll keep working my contacts and pass what I get on to General Cracken; he and I have an arrangement when it comes to sharing fringe rumors.”
“Sorry this rained all over the YT-2000 flight,” she added kindly to Radie. “I just got a message about it and didn’t want to tell you until after we’d all landed.”
But the fellow Corellian, whose parents had owned a freighter in that line when she was a child, was less concerned about how these rumors affected the flight Mirax had arranged.
“I don’t mean to sound happy about this - if it’s even true - but Dors knows I was anxious to get back into the fight,” Radie pointed out. Dorset nodded; Radie had struggled during the pause of military engagements following Xyquine II. For better or worse, that was likely to end soon.
“Good, then, because we’re going to combat readiness again. I’m afraid that means your ships need to be repainted,” Mayn told Dorset and Linna. Their A-Wings had carried very decorative color schemes during their work at Gorom, but it was back to the standard red and cream now. Radie’s design, on the other hand, was close enough with its crimson and off-white colors.
Dorset was still perturbed as she went back to the room shared with Radie and began packing up their limited possessions - a few starfighter models, clothes, flight gear, some holopictures, and Radie’s blasters. Base living keeps this uncomplicated, Dorset thought. I’m used to it now.
“What do you know about the grand admirals?” she asked Radie. “I thought they were gone.”
“So did I. Zsinj never truly earned the rank, and several of them killed each other off after Endor. Rumor is one cut a deal with Cracken to retire. Had they been unified, the Rebellion would have been unlikely to survive - let alone push to Coruscant. If it’s true another took over… that’s bad.”
“Yup,” Linna said drily as she stood next to the doorway. “I had heard a story about a Force user recently too, living on some backwater planet that few return from.”
“What talk is that?” Radie asked, her eyes narrowing skeptically.
“Just some gossip I got from a council aide a week ago. I didn’t make much of it until Mayn told us about this rumor of a new commander and the Dark Jedi. At least there might be others.”
“Do you think that part’s true?” Dorset asked them both nervously. “We’ve seen what the Force means for Corran and Tyria, and they’re not even trained. If we have to fight a Dark Jedi pilot…”
Radie shrugged. “How many of the Imps and warlords have claimed to have some force power? They’re a decicred a dozen at this point. I’ll believe it when I see it, because if I see it we can kill them. Same goes for the grand admiral claim; Zsinj pretended to be one too and he’s dead.”
Linna chuckled, nodding. “You really are the ‘shoot first, ask questions after’ type, aren’t you?”
Radie bared a toothy grin, but Dorset still wasn’t reassured completely.
“They say Vader could fly almost as well as Fel, though, and the stories about how he could use the Force-” Dorset shivered slightly as she remembered the accounts that had been passed on, of soldiers whose blasters were ripped from their hands and saw comrades slashed apart by his lightsaber or choked to death by an invisible hand. Few had survived such ground encounters.
“But Antilles is better than that twice-collaborating vermin Fel,” Radie hissed angrily, before she cooled down and gave Dorset a comforting smile. I’m not sure if anything riles her up like being reminded the Imps’ best pilot was from Corellia too, wherever he’s gone off to now.
Back when they were training at Folor Base, Levoc Tine had made a crude joke on the similarity between Radie’s last name and Fel. She’d taken a swing at him that would have knocked out a few teeth if Ro’aven hadn’t intercepted it, but at least none of their commanders were present.
Dorset shook her head as she remembered how deliberately annoying the Duros trainee had been to the rest of them. He was good, though - I hope this doesn’t make me miss his skill.
“Don’t forget, we have Skywalker too - he’s a pilot and he took on Vader and the Emperor alone at Endor,” Radie was saying. “Word is Leia Organa also has force sensitivity - right, Linna?”
The pilot from Naboo nodded, recounting a legend of the young Jedi who had saved them from droid invasion before the Clone Wars. Dorset couldn’t help but feel relieved by her enthusiasm.
Even if an entire task force did just up and disappear recently. I hear Antilles is looking into that.
Dorset waited until Linna finished telling the story and went back to her room to keep packing. Then she turned to where Radie was adding a hidden blaster holder on the rear of her belt.
“Could you let me know if you learn about anything like this?” Dorset asked quietly. “You seem confident and all, but we lost a lot of people in the process of killing Vader and the Emperor. If word is coming in from the fringe, maybe your dad heard something from other smugglers.”
Radie’s expression shifted briefly and then she nodded. “Of course. I just don’t want you to worry about shadows and ghosts of evil force-users from the past. It’s not like they can come back from the dead, you know? And any living thing can be killed, Force powers or not. Just look at how the Empire wiped out the Jedi before our time, even if that’s a tragic example.”
“Thanks for not bringing him up in front of Linna, though,” Radie added after a moment.
Dorset nodded sadly. Talking about her dad would lead to questions about her mom, and Radie doesn’t like to mention that she’s dead. I still only know the basics about what happened myself.
Radie had been 15 when stormtroopers killed her mother, and like Dorset she enlisted with the New Republic military after the liberation of Coruscant. They’d both been in for over two years now, and the war on Zsinj had claimed the lives of their best friends and wingmates at the time.
Linna had lost her leg at the knee at Selaggis as well, even if her prosthetic was fully functional. The three and Commander Mayn were the sole survivors of Polearm Squadron, and had spent around a year helping with a test program for the E-Wing starfighter. The project was placed on hold after the prototype crashed, and while Dorset was injured she remained proud of her work. The three scars on her face were kept as a badge of honor, and she’d adapted to her lost finger.
It’s too bad we don’t have those fighters yet. And now we’re going back to combat status, so we won’t be flying test development again soon. I just hope we aren’t divided up into different units.
Radie was glancing up from her oversized datapad after reading the latest Council report.
“The New Republic is apparently trying to hire smugglers into becoming cargo pilots. If this new threat wasn’t on the rise, they might be pulling combat personnel over instead - imagine going from our A-Wings to being stuck in transports. It’s not that I want a new Imperial threat, but at least we get to keep fighting them.”
Dorset nodded. She’d enlisted to help free planets from the Empire too, but expected that to end eventually. Most of the trainees in Blue and Gold squadrons who moved on to Polearm thought the war would end soon, and that their time in service could be limited to a few years.
But now - with the possibility of another campaign looming - Dorset wondered if it ever would.