"Base, this is White Five. Come in Base."

There was a moment of silence, then some static, before a reply came over the comm system.

"White Five this is Base. What can I do for you?"

The voice on the other end was familiar to the pilot; she smiled as she guided her X-wing starfighter in a wide arc and fought the urge to drop the formalities of call signs. Save it for when you're on the ground, she thought, checking the scanners. All clear, nothing to worry about.

"Requesting clearance to land."

Another pause.

Base was clearing it with the others who would be in the communications room, checking the scanners and making sure there was a landing bay open for her to set down in.

"Clearance granted, White Five. You are good to go. Bring her in."

The pilot nodded. "Copy that. Thank you Base."

"We'll see you on the ground, White Five."

"On the ground, Base. White Five out."

The comm system shut off.

It was just her and the darkened cockpit of the X-wing fighter now, as the pilot adjusted her craft for landing. She began her steady descent, partially aware of her droid copilot, an old astromech droid, serial number R2-16, trilling as he rattled off her decreasing altitude and proximity to her destination. She didn't pay attention; she knew where she was going, having made this run countless times in the nine months since she was assigned as a courier at the Rebel outpost on the mid-Rim planet of Ælba. R2-16 was just doing it because it was part of the routine, just like the pilot's conversation with Base had been—nothing unusual.

And then the litany of numbers stopped, followed by a brief silence before her R2's trills became shrieks.

The pilot checked the scanners and swore under her breath. "Damn," she muttered, and switched the comm back on. "Base, this is White Five. Come in Base."

"Is everything alright up there, White Five?"

Check your bleeding scanners, she thought, biting her lip. Does everything look alright? "I've got a lone TIE on my tail," she said, adjusting her course away from the Rebel base.

"Lead him away from base, White Five."

"Copy that Base. Do you want me to engage?"

As a courier, she'd never had any need to engage with an enemy ship before now.

"Negative." There was a pause—Base was conferring with the others again. "White Five, we are sending Green Two and Green Three to assist you. Continue heading west and they'll be in to assist."

"Copy that and thank you Base."

"Anytime White Five." The pilot could hear the smile in Base's voice, almost flirtatious. "White Five, you are requested to stay on-comm until you are safely landed."

"Copy."

The pilot swung her X-wing in a wide arc, headed towards the hilly western coast of Ælba's largest continent. She would stick to the coastline and head north, which was dominated by a mountain range that ran east to west across the northern part of the continent. It was the ideal place to lose enemy troops—hard to navigate even with a map and treacherous to maneuver unless you really knew the mountains.

She checked her scanners. The TIE was hot on her heels now, maneuvering like it was about to take a shot.

Better not make it easy for them then, the pilot thought as she cut a hard left into a bank of clouds, then gave her fighter a little speed before easing up and bursting out into a patch of open sky again.

When she checked, the TIE was nowhere on her scanners.

"Base this is White Five."

"Copy that White Five."

"I've lost the enemy fighter."

"Come again White Five?"

The pilot took a deep breath, steadying herself. She checked the scanners—still nothing, but that didn't make her drop her guard. "The enemy fighter is no longer on my scanners," she said. "I suspect some kind of cloaking device, but I am not sure."

"Copy that White Five. Green Two and Green Three are on their way to your position, and should be with you shortly."

She glanced at her scanners again. Still no sign of the TIE fighter, but she saw the two blips that she recognized as Green Two and Green Three—not really, but the display said they were friendly ships.

"I have them on my scanners, Base," she said.

"Still no sign of the TIE?"

"Negative."

She doubted that she'd lost the Imperial starfighter in the cloudbank. It hadn't been that brilliant of a maneuver, and they were just clouds, after all.

"White Five this is Green Two, do you copy?"

"Green Two, this is White Five. I do copy."

"White Five, this is Green Three, do you copy?"

The pilot nodded, though there was no one to see her do so. "Green Three, this is White Five. I do copy."

"Green Two, this is Base. Any sign of the enemy craft on your scanners?"

"Negative."

"Green Three?"

"Negative as well Base."

"Well isn't this brilliant." Base let out an exasperated sigh. "White Five, continue up the coast a hundred meters. Green Three, fall back and flank left. Green Two, fall back and flank right."

"Copy that Base." The pilot set her gaze ahead of her and brought her fighter so it flew between the tips of the smaller mountains—the Foothills, they were called—and the clouds.

"Copy."

"Copy."

"Right then. White Five, it would seem your friend is back on our scanners."

She checked and saw that Base was right. The blip that was the TIE fighter was a little ways behind Green Three and Green Two, angling towards Green Two on the right. "Yes he is."

"Green Two, he's favoring your side. Can you and Green Three fall back more and get him from behind?"

"Certainly," came Green Three's reply over the comm.

"On my count. One. Two. Three. Fall back!"

The pilot kept her position and speed, only faltering when the TIE fighter fired and startled her into wavering off her straight course. "Base this is White Five. I've been fired at, but no serious damage sustained."

"Hang in there White Five. Green Two and Green Three are locking in on their target."

"Base, this is Green Two. We've got our target."

"Fire."

"Copy that."

There was hardly time for the pilot to blink before she heard the TIE fighter being hit with two well-aimed blasts—one for each of its ion engines—and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light as the damaged engines caught fire and sent the enemy ship into the cold, viciously choppy waters below.

"Base, this is Green Three. The enemy ship has been disabled."

"Well done you two. Bring White Five home now. I think she's had enough excitement for one day."

"Copy that Base."