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Who is this clown? Corran came over, rolled up onto the port S-foil, then chopped his throttle back and let the X-wing drop toward the planet. “Whistler, comm to one klick radius. Tell the transport to go to ground as soon as possible because this guy is good. I want room to operate.”

A harsh whistle stung him. A question appeared on his display.

“Yes, of course I’m better. I’m toying with him. Now reinforce those shields and hang on.”

The Interceptor began to close on Corran’s tail. Pulling back on the stick, Corran leveled his ship out and the Interceptor swooped in behind him. The Corellian waited until the Interceptor closed to five hundred meters, then sideslipped his ship to starboard. Hitting hard left rudder and bringing his throttle back up, his X-wing’s nose swung back toward the squint.

Though more maneuverable than their vertically winged predecessors, the Interceptor’s broad wings still gave them yaw problems. The squint’s sideslip came slow and presented Corran with a wonderful target. His first shot hit solidly on the starboard wing, lasing two angry holes in it. The squint began to roll and Corran shot again, but the scarlet bolts shot fore and aft of the ball cockpit.

The Imperial pilot finished the roll and dove. Corran kicked the X-wing up on the port S-foil and dove after the Interceptor. The pilot in front of him let his ship jerk and juke back and forth, but the drag from the damaged wing’s solar panels made all moves to the right quicker and harder to recover from.

Corran dropped his targeting reticle just to starboard of the stricken fighter. The Interceptor drifted to the right and he fired. The lasers took the right wing clean off. The squint immediately whirled off into a flat spin to port, uncontrolled and unrecoverable. Corran pulled up before he saw the Interceptor crash and part of him hoped the pilot had the intelligence to eject before he died.

He glanced at his monitor and angled his ship onto an intercept for the rest of the squadron’s outbound course. “Nine to Rogue Leader, I’m still here.”

He heard plenty of anger pulsing through Wedge’s reply. “You’re supposed to be leading, not following, Nine.”

“Copy, Lead. I was getting clear, but two squints made a run.”

“So you made a run.”

“Avenging General Kre’fey.” Corran figured Wedge would catch the reference and realize the Interceptors were closing on a transport when he picked them off. He looked at his fuel indicator. “Lead, I have a problem.”

“I know, Nine, your astromech just answered an inquiry I sent.”

The Twi’lek’s voice broke into the frequency. “Lead, another dozen squints have launched and are following the wave behind us.”

“Lead, this is Four. Let’s stay. It’s only twenty-two of them.”

“Lead, Five here. I’m game.”

Corran smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

“Quiet. This isn’t a democracy and what we want to do doesn’t matter. We have orders and others are depending on those orders being obeyed.” Static filled the speakers for a moment, then Wedge spoke again. “We do have some leeway in obeying them, though. Change in plans. We’ll go sunside and draw the Imps with us. Nine, you will go in on the dark side and go to ground. The atmosphere is thin, but your life-support equipment can concentrate it enough for you. If you can avoid them, we’ll be back for you.”

“I’ll do my best, Lead.” Corran brought his X-wing into position with the rest of the squadron. “Four, how many did you vape?”

“I got six. You?”

“Three, if we count the one in the canyon.”

“It counts, Nine. Unconventional, but it counts.”

“Thanks, Commander.”

Rhysati broke into the conversation. “What did you do, Nine?”

“It’s complicated. I’ll explain it later.” Even as he pronounced the word “later,” it turned to dust in his mouth. “I’m only at seventeen. You’re plus two on me, Four. I’m going to count the ones I get on the dark side in our contest.”

“I would not have it any other way, Nine.”

Nawara Ven spoke. “Nine, Gavin’s an ace now.”

“Never doubted it for a minute. Good going, kid.” Borleias’s moon