The Resurgence snapped back in to normal space, squadrons of snub fighters following shortly after. On board the Nebulon B Frigate Admiral K’Renyo looked at the sensor readouts, as he watched the screen an object appeared on it, followed by another, then another. Within seconds there were four other ships being reported by The Resurgences’ computers.

“Just as we expected,” he thought to himself, “maybe that intelligence was worth paying for after all.”

The Resurgence wasn’t capable of taking part in the Rebel’s ambush, refitted as a medical frigate it was here only to support the three fighter squadrons. The Alliance didn’t plan on staying around long enough for the Imperial Navy to stop by, this was to be a simple hit and fade mission. The frigates more advanced sensor’s would make sure that they remained out of sight until the last minute, then the Y-Wing bombers would be able to unleash their payload of proton torpedoes, tearing apart the Imperial supply convoy.

On the other side of the sector, beyond reach of even the Nebulon B’s sensor, three squadrons of small blue fighters exited hyperspace. The howl of their twin ion engines pierced through the vacuum of space as they made their way towards the convoy. Captain Herba N’ator smiled to himself from within the TIE Defenders cockpit, this was going to be very good day to hunt.

K’Renyo sat back in his command chair, confident that they were the only armed force in this sector he gave the command to engage. All around The Resurgence A-Wing and Y-Wing escort fighters throttled up and moved forward. None of them expected an ambush.

Thomas cycled through his Y-Wings systems, a shortage of gunners meant he was the only member of Gold Squadron flying alone, except of course for his R2 unit, Tyler. He’d named the droid after his favourite holo soap actress, convinced that the droid could berate him more than any woman. Tyler whistled behind him, sending a stream of data flooding across his screen.

“Don’t worry buddy,” said Thomas, “It’s a quick in and out. I’ll stick close to the A-Wings but we’re not expecting any trouble.” Indeed, the droid tootled back, its head swivelling around to locate the smaller interceptors. 

The squadron of TIE Defenders had reached the row of stationary Bulk Freighters, though this was an ambush the ships were still carrying supplies vital to the Empire.

“Patrol this area,” ordered Herba N’ator, “anyone who advances towards the Rebel Frigate will answer to me!” His squadron squawked back their acceptance of his orders, swarming round the huge ships like Mynocks. In the distance the Rebel flotilla grew nearer.

Admiral K’Renyo gazed in horror at the new information being relayed to him. Fighters? But where had they come from? TIE’s didn’t have hyperdrive systems, and they hadn’t launched from the freighters. There could be only one answer, one which could change the outcome of this battle and see the Rebellion lose too many much needed pilot’s and spacecraft.

“Watch those Y-Wings,” he ordered the two squadrons of A-Wing interceptors, “TIE Defenders have jumped in.”

“Did he just say TIE Defenders?” Thomas said out loud, speaking to no-one in particular, “I thought they were just a rumour. Think those A-Wings can outfly em Tyler?”

Very much so! Chirped the droid.

“Hope your right buddy, plot a course though, I may need to jump out of here in a hurry.”

An’Gel considered the new information as he threw his A-Wing into yet another spin, the restraint harness biting in to his shoulders as his weight shifted, the inertial compensators adjusting for the ships rapid movement. He’d flown with the Rebellion during the Battle of Yavin and been a close observer of the A-Wings development. The craft was fast and agile but could also bite back at its pilot quickly if he wasn’t careful with its controls. Facing off against the TIE Defender would be a real test of its abilities.

The two squadrons of A-Wings cut their engines, slowing in space to wait for the heavier and slower Y-Wing squadron to catch up. Clouds of small fighters buzzed around the wishbone shaped craft as they approached their intended targets. Admiral K’Renyo had designated the left hand ship as the first recipient of the Rebel’s warheads. Three clicks from the freighters the Y-Wings began powering up targeting computers, astromech units checked and rechecked data and ship systems while the gunners began scanning the stars for signs of TIE’s and enemy laser fire. They had to get within two clicks for the targeting computers to lock on to their target, and one and a half clicks before the warheads could arm themselves and their powerful forward laser cannons could rip through the cargo containers.

“Rebel fighters spotted!” The first Imperial pilot to spot the enemy relayed the news to his squad mates. Herba cursed, he was on the wrong side of the line of freighters and didn’t want to miss out on adding to his list of kills. Each TIE Defender pilot was considered the Imperial Navy’s ‘Best of the Best’. Hand selected from Tie Interceptor squadrons, each initiate had to have flown at least twenty combat missions. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded, the TIE series craft were famed for the ease with which they could be destroyed, no shields and a fragile cockpit meant that they were forced to operate in packs.

Herba pushed forward on the flight yoke, sending his fighter screaming down towards the crew section of the freighter below him. He kept up the pressure on the stick, the craft responding swiftly to his inputs and pulling him parallel to the ships flat surface. The cargo containers towered above him on either side as he rushed along the central axis, rolling his fighter round to maintain a better view of the Rebels approach vector. Ahead of him his squadron performed similar stunts, pulling round and rushing to meet the Rebel snubfighters before they could get within weapons range of the convoy.

Passing through three clicks to target, An’Gel opened his throttle feeling the A-Wing around him surge forward as the seat pushed against him. You didn’t fly an A-Wing, you strapped yourself to the engines and hoped you survived to tell the tale. He sent the order to the rest of the small interceptors to follow him in, they had to keep those Defenders busy long enough for the Y-Wings to complete their mission. A burst of green laser fire cut towards him as the first of the A-Wings and TIE Defenders met, two and a half clicks from the freighters. Too far out for the Y-Wings weapon systems to begin locking on.

One eyeball flashed past An’Gel as it cut through trying to attack the Y-Wings and he instinctively dived towards it, kicking in the rudder to slew the nose of his craft to port as he did so, coming up behind the cockpit of the Defender, its three sets of solar panels clutching it like a Krayt Dragons claw. His targeting bracket lit up as it filled his view and he pulled the trigger, activating the twin guns in the A-Wings nose and sending red beams straight through the engine nacelle of the TIE, the shots exiting through the cockpit which quickly imploded on itself. At the moment of impact the TIE pilot launched his pair of concussion missiles towards the lead Y-Wing, the powerful warheads punched through the shields and exploded against its hull, breaking it apart as An’Gel watched on in dismay.

“Pull it together Red Two,” squawked his com channel, “You did what you could, just make sure the rest of those bombers get through!”

“Copy that,” he replied, “Red Two out.” He pulled the craft back round as his ship cried out in alarm, alerting him to a positive lock from one of the enemy fighters. He twisted and turned, the A-Wing trying to fight back at his commands as he attempted to break the lock.

Twigs cursed as the two concussion missiles sailed past the dancing A-Wing less than a click in front of him and switched to lasers. The only pilot to be selected from a TIE Fighter squadron, he had over 43 combat missions and 29 confirmed kills, 14 assists. The Rebel fighter in front of him was still trying to throw him off, but he remained far enough behind to keep it within his targeting bracket, touching the rudder every now and then to keep his target steady. His fingers tightened around the trigger and he sent a burst of fire arcing towards it, the beams dancing over its shields as another Defender punched in front of him and obscured the target. He released the trigger as he lost sight of the A-Wing and pulled round to find another. He made sure he would find the pilot of that Defender later.

An’Gel pulled up and spiralled again trying to throw off whoever had just fired on him. His shields were down to 30% and he flicked all power from laser’s to the shields, setting them to rear as he made an attempt to break from the apparent dogfight. His targeting bracket howled at him as it picked a lock on another Defender in front and he sent two missiles of his own punching towards it before dropping his wedge shaped craft on its side and accelerating back towards the Y-Wings. Another Defender crumpled as his missiles struck, ripping off two of the solar panels either side of the ball shaped cockpit and sending fragments of shrapnel tearing through its pilot.

Herba tightened his grip around the flight yolk in silent simmering anger as the A-Wing before him dropped from sight and the flash of the exploding Defender filled his view. He vowed to vape that pilot before he had a chance to jump out of the system and pulled round to give chase. All around him red and green illuminated space as fighters circled one another, spiralling, diving and changing speed as they jockeyed to gain an edge on each other.

The Y-Wings cruised on, their gunners holding fire so as not to draw attention to themselves as all around them the fearsome battle continued. Thomas shifted nervously in his seat watching the figures on his computer scroll down as they grew ever closer to the convoy. He drifted closer to the centre of the squadron of bombers, hoping to utilise their gunners in an effort to protect himself. Tyler whistled mournfully behind him as another A-Wing disappeared in a flash of light and a TIE Defender punched through it.

“I know buddy, I know. Just watch my six, you’re my eyes back there.” The droid whistled in acknowledgement, its dome shaped head swivelling round as it scanned the stars behind them. Thomas checked the figures again as he made sure the shields were set evenly fore and aft. Two clicks. The targeting computers began sending confirmations to the Y-Wings load of proton torpedoes, the numbers scrolling down as the group continued to get within weapons range.

Herba struggled to catch sight of the A-Wing he desperately wanted to kill, the mass of fighters around him to confusing to pick out any one individual. Ahead of him he saw the Y-Wings advancing forwards to the convoy, “They’re almost in weapons range!”  He thought in alarm. He pushed forward on the throttle, the Defender surging forward as its engines obeyed, then flicked the com channel to address the squadron.

“Break off from the fighters, the bombers are almost within range.”

Those that could immediately obeyed, spinning in space as they turned to race back towards the precious cargo freighters in pursuit of the slow Rebel Y’s. In front of them the bombers rear guns began adding to the lances of laser fire as they opened up, trying to protect themselves from the TIE’s. Another of the Defenders exploded as it was pierced by a well placed shot, the Imperials behind it scattering as they dived below the sights of the Rebel gunners.

Herba N’ator slewed back round and punched back up towards the belly of the formation of bombers above him. He switched to ion cannons, aiming to disable the ships before they got within range and allow the rest of his squadron to finish them off. Aiming on the centre ship he fired, watching as the blue streaks splashed across the Y-Wing. Electrical discharges sounded around it as the bolts penetrated through the shields and its systems shut down. He pulled to starboard and dove, readying himself to come back on another attack run as the rest of Gamma squadron began opening fire on the other Y-Wings.

Tyler shrieked in protest as the ion bolts struck, sending the droid into uncontrolled fits, the Y-Wing around Thomas shutting down as the computers succumbed to Herba’s fire. He panicked, flicking switches on and off as the ship carried forward under its own momentum, but out of the pilot’s control. “Come on! Come on!” he thought to himself, the freighters growing larger as they passed within range. “Don’t die on me now!”

Angel pushed his craft closer and closer to Gold squadron, ahead of him a lone Defender paused in space before looping round and making a run towards the bombers. “Not this time Imp.”

1.5 clicks to target, K’Renyo watched as the remaining Y-Wings got within reach of the convoy. Would the make it back to The Resurgence to rearm? He didn’t know, but ordered the armourers on board to start preparing the warheads for loading.

Herba could see the disabled Y-Wing in front of him again, it was out of the battle but he was determined to spill Rebel blood. Ignoring the lead Y-Wings which had started firing their torpedoes, he flew straight towards the solitary bomber and switched back to lasers. “This ones mine!”

Thomas sighed in relief at the mournful warble behind him. “Welcome back buddy, see if you can do anything to get us moving again.” The droid began a series of whistles and twerps as it extended an appendage towards a panel and inserted it. In the cockpit screens illuminated once more as the droid began rerouting power to the vital systems. “Faster Tyler,” urged Thomas, “We’re sitting wamprats out here!”

“I’m a lumberjack,” scrolled the screen.

“What the…” Thomas stared in confusion at the screen in front of him as the astromech droid begin pouring spurious data back at him. A flash illuminated the dark void as the first of the Imperial freighters exploded. Thomas’ com crackled back to life as Tyler continued working on the Y-Wing’s systems.

“Gold One and Two have launched all warheads, attempting to return for rearm, everyone else continue on.”

The Rebels still had 36 warheads left to launch at the convoy, 12 for each ship. It wouldn’t be enough to destroy them, Thomas had to add his payload if they were to get out of there quickly.

An’Gel smiled as the Defender in front of him straightened up and flew on towards the stationary Y-Wing, this was going to be easy. The Imperial fighter sent a pair of green lasers hurtling towards the crippled bomber as An’Gel touched his own trigger. The shots passed through one of the pylons holding a set of solar panels to the cockpit and sent it spiralling out of control. An’Gel struggled to keep it in his sights as he tried to destroy it before it impacted.

Herba desperately pulled on the flight yolk, trying to regain some control, he’d been so close! Accepting his fate, he relaxed his grip watching as the Y-Wing grew larger and larger in front of him. He was an Imperial pilot, sworn to give his life for the Emperor. At least he’d take down a Rebel while he did it.

Thomas didn’t know what hit him. The Y-Wings engines sprang back to life a moment before the impact. One moment he was pushing the throttle, eager to add his warheads to the remaining Y-Wings, the next darkness descended on him and he felt a flash of heat as both ships exploded.

Back on The Resurgence, K’Renyo considered the situation. There were still 12 TIE’s out there and all he had left were three Y-Wings with another two returning for warheads. Two A-Wings were left to defend the bombers, the mission was a disaster. As he watched, another of the Imperial Freighters disappeared from the screen as it succumbed to the Rebel’s fire, rapidly followed by another of the Y-Wings. He made his decision, “Retreat.”

The order resonated around the remaining Rebel starships, the Y-Wings immediately breaking off and hitting the throttle to the stops as they made a bid to escape. An’Gel quickly followed them at a distance, snapping off a pair of shots at a Defender and scoring a direct hit as it attempted to pull behind the bombers. His wingman joined him on the left side then surged forward, maintaining a position close behind the Y-Wings in an effort to save them from enemy fire. A pair of blue ion bolts struck it disabling the shields, followed swiftly by a pair of lancing green lasers that ignited the craft, engulfing it in flames as fuel and coolant exploded.

An’Gel turned sharply in his seat as he tried to catch sight of the craft that was responsible for vaping his wingman, scanning the faint stars he caught sight of the TIE Defender as it dipped out of sight behind him. Four other Defenders screamed past in pursuit of the Y-Wings and An’Gel pulled sharply on the stick as he pulled back round to engage his attacker. There was nothing he could do to help the surviving members of Gold squadron until he was out of danger.

Twigs barely stopped to watch his shots strike home, confident that they would reach their mark as he kept up the sharp dive, pulling in behind the remaining Rebel interceptor as it turned sharply. He responded instantly, tapping the rudder as he threw his fighter round trying to catch it, the A-Wing hurtling past his cockpit in a blur of red and white stripes. He barely paused to flick on his com switch, sending an attack order to destroy the last of the Y-Wings.

The Resurgence turned as the crew on board carried out K’Renyo’s orders to vector out of the system, his final order to help the last of Gold and Red was to send the jump co-ordinates from the frigates navicomputers to the fighters. Barely a second later Gold one and two jumped from the system, swiftly followed by the other remaining Y-Wings. K’Renyo watched as the pursuing TIE Defenders buzzed around in frustration before circling back towards the convoy and Red Two. “Good luck,” he thought to himself as the distant stars gave way to the blue brilliance of hyperspace.

The report came back to Twig’s that the Y-Wings had jumped the system, the A-Wing buzzing around him was the only Rebel left. The remaining convoy ships completed their own jump calculations and left the system as Twigs gave a similar order to the remaining TIE’s. Still pulling back on the flight yolk the A-Wing came into sights as it tried a desperate reverse manoeuvre, hoping that by cutting back to port it could catch him out. That split second was enough for him to switch to single fire and send a double tap careening towards the ship, striking its aft section and tearing one stabilizer from its tail.

An’Gel flinched as the strikes shook the ship and its systems screeched at him in alarm. The usually nimble craft became lumpy and lethargic in his hands, there was no way he would be able to keep up the display of aerobatics required to shake off the pursuing Imperial pilot. He resigned himself to his fate and straightened out, reaching forward to scrub the jump co-ordinates from his computer in case they decided to capture him instead. He was surprised to hear the Imperial pilot over an open com channel address him as the distinctive claw shaped craft pulled level beside him.

“You’re the only one left,” said Twigs, “That was a good display back there, gave me something to think about.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Can you still jump?” asked the Imperial, “Or would you prefer me to finish you off?”

“You’d let me escape?”

“I wouldn’t call it escape, your ships not exactly up to combat and I’d prefer not to murder someone in cold blood.”

The Defender pulled forward and nosed in front of the A-Wing, shook left and right in salute, then accelerated away before leaping to hyperspace.

An’Gel watched, shocked and confused as he realised he was alone, and alive. He checked the nav figures again and turned ready for the leap to hyperspace, somehow he knew that wasn’t the last he’d see of that Imperial pilot. Distant points of light became bright white lines and the small fighter made the transition away from normal space.

Bite my shiny metal Tie Fighter!