Log:Log:Resistance: For the Republic
Wherever the pilots of Black Squadron were in the course of their day, a priority one alert found them. The instructions were simple: get to your fighters in all haste, rendezvous with the Republic Fleet, you will be briefed in hyperspace.
The holoemitters in each starfighter flicker to life with the familiar form of Kaydel Ko Connix, standing with prim decorum in such a way that only those who know her well can spot the nervousness in her bearing. <<Black Squadron, this is Connix. We received the following distress call from the Ackbar at nineteen hundred and thirty hours:>> Connix looks to her left and nods once. <<Replay transmission, ensign.>>
The hologram flickers and is replaced by a tight image of the head and shoulders of a pilot in an X-wing harness, wearing a plain green flight helmet. <<This is General Antilles of the Republic Super-cruiser Ackbar, the First Order has found us. Repeat, the *Supremacy* is here and we are under heavy assault. They have some sort of interdiction craft, classification unknown, it's too heavily defended for us to reach. We need all available fightercraft that can be spared from the defense of Naboo, immediately. Repeat->> A hard look off to the side as the pilot and his craft veer sharply to one side. <<Rogue Three, break hard now- Hobbie? Hobbie!>> the transmission cuts off, replaced after a brief visual scramble by Connix, once again. She draws a slow breath. <<We.. don't know how the First Order found the Republic fleet. But we must help the Ackbar escape.>> She hesitates a moment before drawing a deep breath. <<Your objective is this: knock out whatever interdiction craft is locking our allies out of hyperspace, and.. don't die. Connix out.>>
The hyperspace flight to the Republic Fleet is brief, needing only mere minutes, before the dozen ships of Black Squadron streak back into realspace.
Black Leader is the first to streak into view. The iconic black and orange paint design now the staple style of the rest of the squadron. Poe arrives amidst total chaos, with Republic comm frequencies exploding with chatter from squadrons locked in heated fights that dance around the proximity of the Ackbar. Poe has no words for the chaos, his eyes only narrow as flash explosions reflect from his orange tinted visor. He reaches forward with black gloved hand and turns on his priority communications channel.
<<"Rogue Leader, Black squadron reporting as ordered. Tell me where you want us, General, and we'll do our best, sir.">>
Poe has already pulled the lever initiating his s-foils to their iconic attack position. Shields are up, and his engines come to life, glowing bright red against the backdrop of void black. He had a bad feeling about this, but they had a mission and they'd see it through to the end. "Get dug in back there, buddy. If Wedge has called for help, you know they're in the middle of it now."
And here Miri was bitching about boring patrols. This ain't good. As she drops out of hyperspace, the gravel-voiced pilot sings out, <<Black 8 standing by>>. She looks over her sensor readouts, taking slow, practiced breaths.
Viator is meant to be in command of a vessel dedicated to recovery, it is smaller then he'd like, and he isn't sure how how many it can truly fit. Not that it matters, he is seated into a command chair, an eye-piece settled in, to let him observe reports and yet maintain awareness. Rapid finger movements means he is cycling the display constantly to maintain awareness. "Bring power levels to combat readiness." He intones out of routine. He doubts any one had forgotten to feed power to the weapon systems...
The SAR1 U-Wing enters the fleet, the foils coalescing with energy while it begins to move towards the Ackbar, <<SAR1, reporting in. Awaiting orders.>> Merek is on the comlink while he positions both hands upon the controls of the gunship, fingers switching up the controls. <<I'm initiating scans of the fleet and ships.>>
<<Black 5 to Black Leader on your six. Do we have a lock on the Interdictor?>> Tallie throttles up to keep aligned with Poe, "Fiver you know what to do, track Leader and give me a projection of what kind of screen is being run around that Interdictor. The field of space around the Ackbar is pure chaos when Fiver brings the holoprojection up. "Holy drek, look at that," she mutters.
Because of course it did. Because of course they do. At every point, someone proves a traitor, and someone else seeks to prove the image of the Resistance as the force of righteousness in the galaxy to be false. In the end, though, there are only the sins of individuals, and not that of the body - and the body is made of up righteous souls, angry and seeking freedom for all. Such is Black Squadrron, and such is Callax Dalso, himself the scion of a house for whom freedom was a thing only for the elite. He has turned his back on those slaving nobles, and fixed his sights upon the goal of freedom for all beings, even as he now fixed his sights upon the scene beyond the thin transparisteel of his cockpit. All business now, no room for anything but immediate and unrepentant violence.
<< Black Ten standing by, >> he says over comms, his voice flat and cold despite its melodious qualities. Music played on a tin speaker. Then, more quietly to himself, he addresses the droid in its socket in the fighter's body.
"Running scans now. Give us full combat power, Fang, darling. And death to all fascists."
Ektor lets out a long, slow breath through flapping lips. "Hooray for our side," he mutters to R2-G13, drawing a tremulous warble in return. "Eh, relax. Look at it like this: we might get to blow up a wizard. That's something, yeah? Just click the S-foils open as soon as we're outta hyperspace, yeah? Got a hunch we're gonna need to start shooting in a hurry." A crooked grin bends his lip as the chronometer ticks down to the instant of emerging into the ongoing fight.
And it is a massive fight.
The colossal bulk of the *Supremacy* dominates the view, as vast cascades of turbolaser fire converge on the enormity of the super-cruiser *Gial Ackbar*, which answers with more sparse volleys of ruby turbolasers interspersed with blue ion cannons. Almost lost in the flood of fightercraft which the sensors struggle to display is the presence of a small capital ship (the *Gatekeeper*) immediately underneath the belly of the Supremacy, hovering dangerously close to the larger warship.
The three Republic squadrons (now four) are badly outnumbered by no fewer than ten squadrons of TIE fighters. Almost all of the friendly fightercraft show damage to shields or hull, and several have already fallen. A secondary line of TIE/fo squadrons form a picket line around the *Supremacy*. Chatter over the Republic channels sounds increasingly desperate as the Resistance craft arrive.
The fight in space is a bloody one: several E-wings of Phoenix Squadron have already succumbed to the swarms of TIE/fo squadrons, though theyâ??ve taken their own toll in turn. Wraith Squadron is also battered, unable to gain any headway against the tide of their First Order foes. Even one of the fabled Rogues has fallen.
<<Rogue Leader to Black Leader, form up for an attack run on the *Gatekeeper*. We need that Rogue Squadron: open the door.>>
<<"Understood, General. Black Squadron, form on me. We're following Rogue through this storm to our intended target, Gateway. We'll only have a limited window, so hammer that ship with /everything you've got./">> Black Leader's craft moves at a faster speed now and angles toward the friendly IFF cluster that's Rogue Squadron.
Poe sets aside any doubt he has in this tactic. They flew with a man who helped destroy the Death Star, against ALL odds. Most soldiers and pilots searched their entire lives for a moment like this, to make a difference and last stand. This is theirs.
<<"Keep it tight, Black Squadron. We're moving fast and we're hitting hard. SAR-1, hang back to collect downed pilots. Look for their beacon signals on the encrypted channel frequencies. You'll have to be quick in collecting, they won't last long in the void.">>
Poe sets the Squadron's priority on the Gatekeeper, marking it as the only target they need to worry about. <<"Black Squadron, we'll have to ride along the exterior hull of the Supremacy to get inside her shields to attack Gatekeeper. Heads on a swivel.">> "Lock on that ship, buddy."
<<Black Eight to Black Leader, the elite special forces TIEs are tangled up with keeping Rogue Squadron off of the Gatekeeper, so we might actually have a shot at this>> Miri rasps over the comms, before looking back at Henibi. "Stay on the ball, girl. This is no time to get nervous, got it?" <<Copy that, Black Leader. Getting a missile lock on that bad boy>>
Viator sits up as the HUD flashes information, eye tracking the actual battle now, and he points a Lekku right at the Gatekeeper. Orders are to be given, things are unfolding, and his mission changed just as easily.
"This is Ensign Viator. The Ackbar's shields will fail. I advise punching through the picket line and engaging the inferior First Order vessel. Target the engines, with any luck the Supremacy will be forced to disengage the Ackbar as to avoid being damaged by it's own drifting comrade."
His voice is strong, confident, and he gestures his Lekku at Merek. "Follow them, we may have to buy time for bomber crews to finish their runs, or at least try to snag pilots out of this maelstrom of fire." He then returns his eyes to the Ackbar.
"Copy that," Merek says then to Viator, while he takes a moment to speak into comlink, <<SAR1 to Rogue Squadron, pulling fire, locked in.>> He then opens the firing solution while he shoots two clean shots that directly strike into the shields of one of the TIEs. He then maneuvers the U-Wing into a position next to Rogue. <<Never again! FOR THE REPUBLIC!>>
Tallie flips off the com switch and throttles forward keeping aligned with the Supremacy and Black Leader. "Torpedoes, Fiver. We are going to smash some gates open." Fierce words said in a monotone as she concentrates on targeting solutions that fix on the gravity well projectors. Smart to keep them tied into real space. She intends to lower their IQ with an explosion or two.
Toggling open the com, <<Copy that. Torpedo fix on Gatekeeper, Black Leader>>
It is into a nova of deadly colored light that Callax steers his ship, most of it streaming from the vast mountain that is the Supremacy. It is the first time that Callax has seen the ship, and its vastness gives even the hard-bitten pilot pause. "Gatekeeper spotted," he drones over the channel, tone soft yet penetrating through the noise. "Ready to proceed. Black Leader, this is only a small percentage of the Supremacy's potential fighter load. They're holding back, reason unknown. Then again, taking out the Gatekeeper in such proximity to the command ship might set off secondaries. >>
Then, to Fang: "Get me a torpedo lock, darling. Do your level best, this is an existential matter."
Skimming along the belly of the largest capital ship in living memory. The things he gets himself into...
In position Karas heard the orders given to them by Black Leader, <<Copy that Black Leader.>> he says into his comms. Black four streaks off with the rest of the formation moving into position near Black 8 as he races forward. He looks to his droid computer, "No not yet." He says to his droid. "Give me once we are close enough the structural integrity of the Gatekeeper, we need to find a weak spot in that thing." He says letting his droid get to work. Pushing the throttle to max, Karas begins his race towards the Gatekeeper, the T-85 makes slight moves as it evades the blaster fire incoming at him, he gets a single hit on his shields, "Take care of that Spark." He calls. <<Once we are at the Gatekeeper, keep as low and close as possible to deny them the use of their turbo lasers, but be careful.>> he calls into his comms.
<<Yanno, I never get tired of blowing up drek nobody's blown up, before. Feels like.. dome kinda explorer. But with bombs, yeah?>> Ektor opines, as he veers Black 6 into formation with his squadron mates, skimming the blackened hull of the Supremacy on approach.
It's a moment most will always remember: Rogue Squadron- the most famous starfighter unit in the galaxy, composed of living legends, not a one of which ranks below Captain- turn in perfect concert to lead the charge against the wicked bulk of the Supremacy and the ominous Interdictor barge hovering beneath its belly.
Behind the heroes of a dozen wars, for a soaring instant, some might feel a sense of invincibility. Whatever the odds, names like Skywalker, Antilles, Celchu, Horn, and Jansen have always prevailed. Impossible is what they do. Black Squadron follows close behind as targeting computers begin to read the *Gatekeeper*.
Then the volleys of cutting-edge TIE cannons tear into them. Rogue 4 explodes in a short-lived fireball.
Then Rogue 7. Then 5.
The three foremost squadrons aboard the First Order's flagship pour destruction onto the lead X-wings, with Rogue Leader's shields failing, and a swathe of emerald energy carving up the fuselage. <<I'm hit,>> Antilles states, evenly. <<Heavy damage, weapons offline->> The General felt an instinct to apologize.
Point defense batteries on both the *Supremacy* and *Gatekeeper* roar to life, filling space with a cloud of laser fire to dissuade the assault of X-wings.
Poe grimaces as he twists his craft to avoid the streak of green turret fire. He can see, from the holo readout on his right, that his squadron is taking hits. BB-8 keeps him informed of the Rogues, but man is it depressing. In a single attack, the FO are responsible for three, THREE Rogues going dark. "Damn it." Poe mutters, moving his craft to flip till it's belly to belly with the Supremacy.
<<"Stay with me.">> Poe reminds his squad, the stakes here are overwhelming. Laser fire is /everywhere/. Fighters are /everywhere/. Poe's eyes narrow and his thumb flips the safety cover up on his torpedo launch button.
<<"Firing two; take that to your Supreme Leader.">> Poe breaks off, angling with increased speed and prepping for another run. "Another lock, BB-8. We've got to bring this thing down." <<"Prepare for another run, Black Squadron. Give it /everything you got!">>
Viator is retreating into a world of data, battles to a Line Officer often become a series of projections, their vessels, generally by the nature of size offer a rather more stable platform when under fire. Once they start bucking..it's generally because they're in the process of dying. His mind is compartmentalizing, processing things and his fingers twitch across controls as he extrapolates data. Basic starship design applies, there is always a way to force overloads, to force out of control engine burns when control conduits are cut. A data packet will be rapidly broadcasted to Rebel pilots.
"This is a suggested bombardment point, if needed, push under the shields. If we force disruption at these points, they will lose some of their ability for station holding. This will force other Order assets to reorganize or risk being rammed. The Ackbar can begin disengaging then. I estimate it's shields will fail before it can do so with out an unexpected element."
A lekku twitches, Viator looks towards the engine indicator. "Failing that pilot. We will engage in a hyperspace jump into their primary power core and then dump our own hyperspace core as we initiate the jump." He says it so casually to Merek.
Merek watches as the squads are taken down, fire in the skies while he maneuvers through that all, doing his best to defend Rogue Squadron, as he begins to fire more at the TIE as his shields take a hit also. He then initiates a pattern while he types on the controls, "Got it," he says. He focuses, perhaps upon the Force, not that it is special to him, not that he can do it, but you have to put a faith in things also.
Miri is in the zone. Dodging enemy TIE fire, getting a missile lock... BOOM. <<Is he dead yet? Is he dead yet?>> comes her crazed voice over the comms. She looks at her sensors. <<How the hell are those shields still holding?>>
Reports light the board on Rogue's status. She winces as the third fighter is listed as lost. "Drek them. Drek them to the darkest hell of the universe." It's a maelstrom of color, red and blue mixed with particolored rainbows as her shields ionize. Fiver blats behind her putting shield damage up in an icon on her heads up. Nearly fifty percent. Tallie snorts at that number responding with a terse, "Fix it, Fiver."
Flying under the behemoth makes her feel tiny in the T-85 but flies bite hard. She-wolf's torpedos make lovely impacts. She adds her own as they chew away at the Interdictor.
Fiver beeps with satisfaction behind her. She is too occupied to respond.
Skimming the ventral surface of the Supremacy is like traversing the surface of an angry black moon. The flashes of point-defense cannons spitting light from above is a tide of glittering death, and while Callax is a most experienced pilot, no amount of genetic adapation or skill is going to keep any of them from getting away unscathed from that density of firepower. And yet, the hit that Black Ten suffers is glancing, and Fang is quick to bring the shields back up to full as he pumps two torpedoes into the interdictor's hull.
<< Two hits, >> he reports over the comms in his dead-radio voice. << Readying another salvo. >>
Meanwhile, the joy that should spring from viewing the blossoming explosions that rock his quarry are but ashes in his mouth as he hears General Antilles speaking. He knows that tone. He's used it himself, and he's no hero of the Republic. "Get out of there safe, darling," he says to himself, knowing that the words will not be heard. Then he loads the tubes and prepares for another run. Heroes can be lost. The Fleet cannot.
Karas is watching his sensors though with all the green laser fire, he is slowly getting into the zone. He sees three of the Rogues wink out and it pulls at him but he can't let that bother him now. He is keeping up with his squadron, the T-85 he's piloting is apart of him and he apart of it. Watching where everyone is firing, they needed to get those shields down and he fires once the HUD goes green with a target lock.
"Come on, we have to get there faster." He says more to himself and not on his comms, as incoming fire comes at him, he maneuvers his fighter in a tight roll to the left than dips below the last bolt fired at him. Upon hearing that the shields are down, "Spark get me data on this ship, find us a weak spot." He tells his droid as he pilots through the drek.
Green turret fire chases after the fast moving craft, some vollies slower than others, but a few find their mark rocking Black Leader hard enough to test her shields. BB-8 is already working on the damage leaving Poe to do the fancy flying. His craft rotates back into range, moving evasively until the last possible moment. When the time comes, Poe fires his final two torpedoes and spirals off, smashing the lever that controls his speed to increase his engines output. <<"Second volley away. This is where we make it count, Black Squadron.">>
Viator is observing impacts, but it seems very likely they simply lack the offensive abilities needed. "The Ackbar might not survive." He just says, matter of factly. "We might need to consider an act of desperation after all." He says, considering the likelyhood their vessel impacting directly into a gravity well generation actually disabling it.
<<Missiles dry, but it looks like I hurt it>> Miri sings out over the comms. <<Black Eight to Black Four, going to engage some of these TIEs. You with me?>>
"Ackbar will hold, we need to be working to save people," Merek explains, while he takes a moment to maneuver into position while he breaks from the dogfight. <<Recovering crew.>> He announces to the comlink, while he takes a moment to begin the sequence on taking the pods on. An R2 named Gadget is assisting in repairs while he does so as well, the shields coming back up.
Eyes narrow reflexively as lasers light up the canopy of her T-85. When Black Squadron blows open the Gatekeeper shields, Tallie grins fiercely, breathing a wooo of satisfaction to herself.
She rudders into a barrel roll trying to spread the energy over the shields. The T-85 scrapes through with a minimum of shielding left.
"Targeting priority one, Fiver. Repair priority two. Let's burn them up."
The torpedos are released barely rocking the T-85. Fiver holoprojects the subsequent double hits that produce a slow motion of fire and debris belching from the Gatekeeper as it begins to break up. Behind her an escape capsule arcs into space.
<<Splash, Bogey One Black Leader>> It is enough. The price has been too high to shout her joy.
For a moment, though, there is a flicker of doubt, especially when Tallie's torpedoes breach a gaping wound through the barge's hull. But then he thinks of the Republic, all the people on board, the other ships at the mercy of that dread dark shape above, and just...presses onward. Hopefully the General will have sufficient skill still in him to keep from being killed. Or at least he'll have time to eject.
And so he turns the ship around, dumping the last of his torpedo magazine into the vast breach torn open by Tallie - and down they go, deep into the barge's guts, exploding amidst reactors and mass-shadow generators and the bodies of the crew. Warm life, torn asunder, to be followed by the rest. Fang proceeds to realign the shields and redirect power to the shimmering bubble, hopefully to keep them safe as he tears off now to engage the rest of the fighters swarming through space. << Confirming splash, >> he intones. << Breaking off to engage enemy fighters. >>
Again, the ashes in his mouth. For now. Not until the job is done. Then, maybe, the victory feast might be savored.
Black 6 winds back through the storm of cannonfire toward the sprawling dogfight that has engulfed the void. Cracking a crooked grin as he chooses a target, and strikes the lead TIE/sf in pusuit of Rogue Leader, hammering through the shields and scoring heavy damage on the hull beneath with a cascade of lasers. The stricken TIE breaks off its pursuit, returning fire at Ektor to little effect and leaving a solitary special forces craft on the tail of General Antilles' crippled craft. <<So, hey. We're Black Squadron. How you doing, yeah?>>
No sooner is the Gatekeeper's grip on the Ackbar broken, than the massive Mon Cal super-cruiser- its shields punctured by cascades of turbolaser fire and swiftly thereafter restored- than the gargantuan cruiser streaks into the safety of hyperspace, to the vast relief of the surviving Republic and Resistance craft. The orders are given and the remains of Rogue, Wraith, and Phoenix Squadrons bank and flee along the same vector. Wraith Leader broadcasts, <<Get clear of the Destroyer, and break for it, Black Squadron!>>
Rogue Leader, General Wedge Antilles keeps his aged eyes narrowed on the flight display, stealing only brief glances over his shoulders to verify the vector of the last TIE/sf in pursuit of his venerable starfighter. A short sniff at the banter over the open comms, until another destructive swathe of emerald energy tears into his dying fighter. Pulling frantically at the ejection mechanism, only to find it locked and offline, the veteran of a hundred battles lets out a slow exhale. <<Rogue Leader, to Black Leader- to all of you: it's your turn.>>
It is Rogue Leader's last transmission, before one more blip vanished from the targeting computers..
It's a moment of utter desperation. Friendly names go dark on the sensor read out, and little by little the light they all clung to began to dim. Wedge's message reached Poe and everything else just seemed to fade away. Black Leader rocked slightly, he flew off instinct, but the words burned Poe to his core; burned him to his soul.
Frowning, and growing silently angry, Poe decides then that no one will live to claim they killed Wedge Antilles.
Black Leader's s-foils close, and the craft hones in on the very craft angling away from what's left of the venerable X-Wing. His eyes narrow as the distance closes immediately. His s-foils open once he's within deadly range. Everything else blurs for Poe then. He sees red, lance after lance is fired and he screams at the top of his lungs. The TIE evading him finds that Poe is not so easily lost, and before long his craft is consumed with fire before it explodes entirely. Poe blasts the debris apart before flying right through the brittle remains, spiraling away and angling for an escape vector.
He marks their angle, plotting the course, and flips the switch to open a channel to his squadron. <<"Angle for your exits, Black Squadron. This is not a fight we can win. Jump when your coordinates are set.">> Black Leader's s-foils close, setting Poe back against his seat. Cruising speed is achieved.
Miri strains against the straps of her cockpit, as if she could reach through the canopy of her fighter and bodily throttle the enemy fighters. But orders are orders. <<Black Eight copies,>> she says into the comms, even if her tone makes it clear she's not happy about it.
Viator is observing the battle when he stops, there's a visible pause. "Wedge Antilles.." he doesn't finish, he doesn't think he needs to finish.
"This is SAR-1. Requesting fighter screen, we are going to try and find Wedge. We need confirmation on his status."
The calm is forced, detached, because if not..he'd be seething in anger..But then? Poe is pulling them out and he looks at Merek. "Any sign?" the Togruta asks, aware exactly how vunerable this vessel is with out a fighter escort. "Some thing tells me, we can not afford to wait."
Merek watches as well as listens when he hears Wedge, then he sees the flames. He seems to think about it for a moment, and now that he has a pod secured, he nods a bit. He doesn't talk to anyone, he focuses upon his duties, trusting in the Force and friends to protect him while he does his best to recover Wedge. Whatever his status, he will assure the Order can't claim him. <<Spinning up.>>
The icon marking General Wedge's ship is ringed in red indicating damage. It stutters and Fiver bleeps a high pitched whistle of distress. "Noooo, no, no," she grips the throttle futilely as she watches it blink into downed status. Fiver has the TIE culprit in the targeting matrix but Black Leader is in for the kill and leaves no one to count coup on the greatest of their pilots.
<<Good one, Black Leader>>. Nothing is sufficient to honor his memory. Nothing.
The order to punch out of the system is received but Tallie continues to trade shots with a TIE/sf as Fiver inputs their course. Her shields are non-existent when she replies to the order. <<Copy that, Black Leader>> She follows Black Squadron out of the system.
And then, Rogue Leader winks out. He went down on their watch.
Closing his eyes, the aristocratic young pilot's fingers tighten on Black Ten's stick, pulling it into an intercept course for the closest fighter, now meat for him to butcher. And butcher it he will, pouring the font of boiling anger that brims beneath his placid surface into the offense - the General could have ejected, after all, or if not still remain wounded in a half-intact fighter. It's possible. Anything's possible. He needs to give the SAR boat time, even in the face of that...monster that looms above them. Perhaps the great Antilles is dead, but the veterans around him are not. The pods must be retrieved.
And so Callax pushes his ship to redline, targeting the nearest TIE to the SAR ship, pouring on fire into it - and missing, but hopefully the volume of lasers spewing into the direction of the enemy will turn their wrath away from the U-wing to himself. << Come to me, you scum, >> he breathes, voice a leaden whisper on the open comms. << All of you, come to me. I await you. >>
Another of his idles have been claimed, first his parents, than Luke Skywalker and now Wedge Antillies. Karas is angry and it's seen in his flying as he goes on the hunt, his T-85 slicing through space hunting for targets and even though they were outnumbered he was going to take as many as he could with him. Though as he makes his run on a TIE/SF his anger clouds his judgment causing him to miss. He didn't allow for that, his emotions had to take a back seat and after missing he breaks by rolling right and taking an escape vector from the dogfight. He does keep track of that TIE, until he is ordered to leave.
Hearing Callax, <<Vector out now Black 10, that is an order. This is Captain Darkwing, all remaining Black Squadron pilots leave now!>> he calls into his comms. Black 4 is already closing it's S-Foils but he is waiting to make sure the others have jumped, he wasn't going ot let anyone play hero, not today!
Black 6 finishes off the special forces TIE he had wounded, prior, returning over the comms, << I hear you, Black Six on my way out.>> Sweeping through the spreading field of debris from the short, but intense battle between the stars that has torn apart starfighters by the dozens, the X-wing closes S-foils and joins its fellows in jumping out. Moments later, the First Order flagship *Supremacy* jumps out of the sector, as well, leaving only ghosts behind.