The still familiar hum of his Avenger’s engines calmed him down, even if their circumstances were currently odder than normal. He leaned back in his flight seat as much as he could, over the years of owning this fighter he had made some modifications for longer journeys. Unfortunately, getting comfortable in a fighter designed for speed was not something you did very easily. This hyperspace jump, their fourth one of the trip was already clocking in at seven hours.

Trykon had radioed in hours ago and said he was going to lay down and sleep, then shut down comms leaving Maroy and Scral to find what comfort they could. Even working his way through the navsystem gave little information to where they were going, both ships had been slaved to the shuttle’s navcom leaving the two pilots at the whim of what could be their own demise at the hands of someone they had heard very bad rumors about.

“You doing alright over there? Not heard a peep in awhile.” The strained voice of Maroy came over the commlink minutes or hours later. Time had begun to have no meaning to him as he tried to watch something besides the spinning vortex of hyperspace.

“I think I know why Interceptors don’t have hyperspace motivators, only truly insane people can survive extended trips in these things.” He said as he glanced over at his power reserves. “Problem is the Avenger is a tough little ship, but she’s got issues with power consumption. I’m about an hour away from drifting unless we stop to refuel.”

“Aye, I know. We’re closing in on the range window for our fighters for sure. One day we may remember to actually verify orders being given to us, there have been traitors in the Navy before.” Maroy said.

“I doubt it’s anything like that, but none the less this is a good way to get rid of two seasoned pilots if it is.” Scral felt his port pylon rotate slightly as the ship tried to find ways to conserve what little power remained.


“Idle banter will get you in trouble.” The rested voice of Trykon came over the comm system a few moments later. “Besides, if I was a traitor I would not be giving you this.”

Scral felt his ship exit hyperspace, immediately his friend or foe systems began going off as a large ship was directly ahead. Bringing up his fire control systems he switched the slave controls to off as he vectored away from the shuttle.

Looking at one of his monitors he saw his recognition computer finally make a match, he blinked as the codes began scrolling down. Seeing familiar lines, he sent hostile challenge and identification. What came next was something he had never dared to dream of, his response was slow and weak as he said, “That’s, not possible.”

Angling his fighter around he finally got a good look at the warship in front of them. She was badly damaged, main power was offline that was obvious. She was listing heavily to starboard and was rotating slowly on a ninety degree axis. He could see whole sections had been subject to explosive decompression, remembering the last battle she had been in, then the salvaging of whatever was still useful by the Naval Core of Engineers, he was surprised she was still in a semblance of one piece.

“It’s the Fearless.” Trykon’s voice said over the commlink slowly. “Though, by your silence I know you both already know that. She was pulled from a salvage yard ten weeks ago in preparation for something unprecedented. Over the years you have both requested numerous times for the squadron known as Regents to be activated again, here’s your shot. It’s up to you two, to bring this ship and this squadron back to life.”

Scral heard the shuttle vectoring away, and the subsequent entrance into hyperspace but he could only sit and stare in wonder at what was in front of him. The Fearless had been his first true love after Eona had burned to death in front of him, having her back was something he was not prepared for.

“It’s like a dream.” Maroy said softly.

“It is a dream.” He said finally, as he found his voice.