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These pilots know nothing. Coming in from above and in front of the TIE fighter, Wedge knew he should have been easy to spot. The TIE pilots had clearly focused in on getting Asyr, to the exclusion of everyone else. While that kind of focus and concentration might be useful in all sorts of endeavors, in a fighter pilot without situational awareness, it was suicide.

Wedge knew, from looking out his canopy and studying his sensors, where his other fighters were and where the dwindling supply of TIEs was. He couldn’t feel their presence in the way Luke described being able to fix people and machines in relation to himself through the Force, but he did have a sense of where they were. This situational awareness meant he would know if a TIE had begun to close on him and would be able to take the appropriate response, from calling for help to outmaneuvering the other pilot.

Without it I would have died hundreds of times over. Applying a little rudder, Wedge tracked his crosshairs over to cover the TIE and tightened up on the trigger. Four red lances of light converged, melding into one, then skewered the fighter’s ball cockpit. The ion engines exploded, spinning the solar panels away like sabacc cards. Flaming debris sprayed out like sparks in the wake of a passing meteorite, igniting a fire in the foliage below.

Mynock trumpeted triumphantly.

Wedge glanced at his main sensor screen. “That was the last of them, true.” He activated the comm unit. “Nine, take Ten and swing over the spaceport. Suppress ground fire if you get any and report all clear.”

“As ordered, Lead.”

“Chir’daki One to Rogue Leader.”

“Go ahead, Tal’dira.”

“Chir’daki pass complete. We had secondary explosions in the vehicle sheds and machining shops.”

“Good going, Tal’dira. Stand by for phase two of the operation.”

Tycho’s voice entered the frequency. “Wedge, I have someone on the deck complaining. Claims to be the plant manager.”

“I copy, Tycho. Tell him to evacuate the whole area and consider a career change. Resistance means we grid the surrounding town and start melting parts of it.”

“As ordered, Wedge.”

Looking back at Q5A7 and the surrounding area, Wedge saw a lot of fire and rising columns of dense smoke to greet the dawn. Some small ships had set out from the bay’s marina and ground vehicles were beginning to fill the coastal roadway heading north and south. Those who can get away are—those who can’t will just wait in fear.

“Lead, this is Nine. The spaceport is clear. No hostiles and the traffic-control tower is empty but intact.”

Wedge smiled. “You got close enough to determine that, Nine?”

“Whistler has good distance processing equipment from stakeouts, Lead. He’s never been wrong before.”

“I copy. Stay covering the spaceport.”

“As ordered, Lead. Nine out.”

Wedge punched up a new frequency on the comm unit. “Rogue leader to Taskforce Bantha.”

“Bantha here, Wedge. We can spot the city by the fires from up here.”

“I don’t doubt that at all, Booster. It could have been nastier but Iceheart only had eight vape-bait pilots here. They’re gone, so it’s safe to have the freighters come in.”

“Our pleasure. Incoming.”

Wedge smiled. During the two weeks the squadrons had trained for the raid, Booster had arranged for a convoy of independent freighters and smugglers to meet with him, Mirax, and the Pulsar Skate. He told them he’d get them all the bacta they could haul provided they would keep what they earned as a credit against his future demands. Some balked, but most came along, even though Booster demanded they slave their navicomputers to the Skate’s and fly blind with him to their destination. When they arrived in the system and took up positions in the asteroid rings around Qretu 5, Wedge and his people began their run.

Wedge brought the fighter’s nose up until it eclipsed the burning town and started another turn over the ocean. Regret for the damage done to nonindustrial targets began to eat at him. My parents died when a pirate took off from the fueling