I started out a cute little padawan, innocent and starry eyed to the world of EAW. I was recruited by a wise, or insane, old JedI named Chyro. He took me in off when I was an orphan. My parents had come from different species altogether. My father had been a Mandolorian of the Fett clan, while my mother was a Togruta. Luckily, I came out without bearing any signs of inter species offspring (horns on a human wouldn’t work too well for me), but I did get the reflexes and natural instincts of the Togruta, and add that to  Mandolorian raising, it wasn’t considered safe to get into a fight with me.

    One day the Fett clan left for a massive raid on another clan, leaving my mother and me on Mandalore. That was the fateful day that all the Fett warriors besides Jango were killed on the field of battle. When we heard the news, my mother took me to Naboo, in hopes that I wouldn’t grow up seeking revenge on those who killed my father. It was a quiet time there, and she taught me the Togruta ways of combat and healing. She even served the queen for a long while, and I was only about three at the time. We lived there for about a year until a pirate raid took her and me from Naboo. She fought fiercely, but in the end we were made slaves, serving the filthy pirates. But they got their payback one day, in the form of a JedI strike team. My mother helped attack our former masters, but the Pirate Lord killed her on his ship’s bridge before my eyes, leaving me an orphan. The JedI arrived moments too late, and she died. They killed the pirate lord and then took me to Coruscant. All I had left of my family were two strange metal tubes, one from my mother, the other from my father.

    The leader of the JedI strike team’s name was Chyro, an old master of the Order. He took me to the council, and there they decided that I was indeed a Force adept, and took me in for training. I trained hard and long, and  the story shall commence from the fateful day that left me the last of the JedI.

    "Again,” the JedI trainer called, prowling around the edges of the dueling ring. I tilted my training saber up in a salute to my opponent, a young padawan named Slayer. He returned the favor, and we slowly circled the ring, light sabers up and ready. He shifted, feinting to the left before going the opposite way, then jumped at me, bringing the saber slashing downward. I lifted my own above my head, and his blue clashed with my green. He dropped to the ground and slashed at my feet, forcing me to leap over him. I spun and turned my flip into a backwards somersault, bringing the humming training saber up in a defensive position facing him. He grimaced and charged at me, slashing and stabbing, driving his saber against mine with all of his might………but he was only human.
    My Togruta instincts kicked in, sending my saber whirling and countering his every move, forcing the assaulter to backpedal. Nearing the edge of the ring, he shifted his weight and desperately tried to stand his ground. His saber whirled and stabbed at my head, but I moved to the side just in time, allowing my safety and a chance to slash across his neck. The fight was now considered over, He’d been "killed” yet again.
    "Stop,” the trainer cried, and I deftly whirled my saber as I retracted the blade and pocketed it. Slayer merely returned his saber to his belt. "Excellent work,” said Chyro as he neared us. "With some more training and time, you two will be properly prepared for the Order.” He chuckled softly as he muttured, "And Heaven help anyone who gets into a fight with you lads.”
    Slayer and I beamed in satisfaction. We knew our chances of getting fully initiated into the JedI were high. "Slayer,” Chyro said, frowning. ”You must learn to not use your anger in battle, it will only wear you out faster.”
    "Yes Master Chyro,” the sullen boy replied. "Now Ace, you did well, excellent work dodging that last lunge.”
    Thank you master Chyro,” I replied, earning a glare from Slater. We were the most competitive people in the Temple, always striving to best the other in combat, knowledge, and just about everything. Slayer tried extremely hard, but none of the other padawans would even attempt to test themselves against the half Togruttan Mandolorian. I was fifteen at the time, an apprentice of Chyro.
    "Now come along you two,” the master continued, ”the Council has summoned you.” That made both of us stare, what could the Council possibly want with two padawans? But we obeyed our summons and hurried to the Council chamber. As we rode up the turbo lift, Slayer kept glaring at me.
    Something wrong Slayer?” I asked, taking care to keep the training light saber within easy reach. "Yea,” he snapped,” every time I get close to finally scoring on you, you always manage to dodge or deflect it then gut me. Then you get the praise and I get the scorn. It’s not fair!”
    "Well, you do fight good, for a human,” I replied good naturedly, trying to avert a fight in playful banter. ”Here’s a tip for you, try not losing,” I teased, hoping to get him to crack a smile. That didn’t work out too well though. He whipped out his saber and slashed at me, meeting the blade I’d just barely managed to get up in time. We fought there, barely having room to move, each of us drawing on our years of training experience to manage the dangerous stand still in the small compartment. When the turbo lift doors opened up with a soft hiss, we tumbled out, still fighting. Whirling my blade from the side and cutting over his slashing uppercut, I managed to back him up to the Council chamber doors, which slid open silently.
    "SLAYER, ACE!” a voice cried from within the room, brining our duel to a halt. "What is the meaning of this, fighting outside of the dueling ring, in front of the Council?” That voice belonged to Master Zane, a stern faced and quiet human. We immediately put our sabers up, faces heating in embarrassment. "Sorry Master Zane,” we chimed in meek unison.
    "I hope you are, for this is serious,” he continued.” The JedI are growing thin in numbersm and we need capable warriors who work together to keep our Order alive.” There were only three Council members present, for the other JEdI were out on missions. Master Chyro, Master Zane, and a seldom seen Master Luke.
    "You must learn to control your emotions,” Zane continued,” it is only by this that we are able to-” a massive explosion cut him off. We hurried to the windows to see what was going on, and were punished with the sight of a fleet of vast fleet bombarding the Temple.”Impossible!” Chyro cried,” no one could have gotten a fleet this close without going through our defenses!” The Masters were distracted, but I was quick enough to see Slayer sneaking up behind me, a different light saber hilt in his hand…..and this time, I didn’t believe for an instant that it was a training saber.
    "Slayer……it was you who let them in….wasn’t it,” I asked quietly, a heated glare shooting to him as I spun around to face him. I drew the two cylinders at my side, the only gifts I had from my parents, and twirled them deftly through my fingers. I cleared my mind as I’d been instructed so long ago, focused on a single image, of the tubes holding forth a bar of light…..a light saber’s blade. Twin bars of light sprang from the openings in both hilts,  auras of green colored flames seeming to surround them. I looked at my new approaching enemy,  raising and crossing my blades just in time to meet his sudden charge. He slashed and stabbed at me, forcing me to back up through the Council chamber doors. I leaped through a newly made smoking hole in the wall nearby, landing, ironically, on a catwalk hanging above the dueling arena below. He followed closely behind, his red blade meeting my two green blades as I spun to block his attack, We fought there, whirling and slashing, lunging and stabbing, both fighting for the best advantage in our deadly dance across the catwalk. We finally got into the middle of the structure and had come to a stand still. He brought his saber up to crash down on my head, and I had to cross my blades in an X to meet his strike, locking our sabers as we pushed at each other, desperately trying to force the blade upon their owners.
    "For all these years you’ve beaten me,” he snarled, " for too long have I been scolded, too long have I been the loser. The Sith knew my worth though, and now Dark Ace, you and every last filthy JedI , will DIE!!!” And with that Slayer charged forward, pushing my sabers backward and tumbling us off the edge of the catwalk, I fell for what seemed like forever, but spun around and slowed my descent to the ground with the Force. My eyes widened in shock though, when he landed right behind me and sprung to continue his hateful barrage.
    Suddenly an explosion ripped around us, sending us both flying in opposite directions. I don’t know how long the attack lasted, but when it was finally over in that spot, I saw him staggering around, clutching his head and groaning in pain. I stumbled over to him, placing one dizzy foot in front of the other in grim determination. Slayer didn’t see me coming until my blades were crossed in front of his throat. "You brought the Sith down on our heads,” I said coldly,” you may have doomed us all.”
    "Oh, I did much more than that,” he replied with a maniac glint to his eyes, seeming unconcerned with death hovering mere inches from his exposed flesh. " You should have seen all the other JedI I killed to keep my true goals secret. Cloud, Frodawg, all of them, dead by my hand! All of them……..and Ace,” he continued with a wicked smile. He then whirled his light saber up to knock my blades back towards me and away from his neck, lunging up and stabbing at my head. Yet sadly, just like when we’d practiced before, I saw it coming and ducked under the blade, ramming my own sabers through his stomach.
    His eyes widened in surprise, and he looked down to see the burning twin blades of green disappearing into his body. Slayer looked back up at me, a small ironic smile on his face. "I guess…..” he rasped out in a pained whisper, blood leaking from the corner of his lips,”….you really……beat me this……..time…….Ace….”
    I stared back coldly, looking down at him like an executioner would look at his victims, and uttered only one word to his dying ears.
    "Murderer.”
    The light left Slayer’s eyes, and he collapsed backwards in a rumpled heap. I turned away and walked toward one of the few remaining exits in the shattered arena. I had to find any surviving JedI, and get out of there quickly. So I set off at a run, praying I wasn’t too late.

   
Ace ran through the halls of the Temple, searching desperately for any other JedI. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he turned, Sith filled the halls, JedI bodies laying at their feet. He kept running, tears blurring his vision. He turned at an intersection in the hall…and came face to face with a Sith Lord.
    Bodies were piled around his feet, padawans and knights, all cold and lifeless now. He looked up with a cold smile. "Another padawan I see. This will be fun, they all squeal in the end.” With that said, he raised his light saber, the blade glowed like molten fire. Ace raised his own sabers, lifting one above his head while holding the other pointing straight at his opponent. "If I had a credit for every person who said that to me….” He flashed a cheeky smile at the man, a fire of battle lust simmering in his eyes,
    The Sith snarled and charged, stabbing straight for the younger opponent. Ace jumped over him, flipping to bring his sabers arcing towards the Sith’s back. His enemy was ready though, and spun around while bringing the blade up to meet Ace’s, then  tried to hack at the padawan as his feet came to the ground. Ace rolled out of the way, the air heating where his body had been moments before. Stumbling to his feet,  he spun around and raised hi sabers, barely getting them up in time to meet the onslaught of the Sith Lord. Seeing that the battle would be less than convenient, however, the Sith raised his hand, lightning flaring from his finger tips. The young JedI went flying back, reeling in agony as his foe stalked slowly closer, a cruel smile on his face.
    "Your going to die now padawan,” he taunted, his light saber flicking to and froe like a cat’s tail. "A pity I can’t take longer on your death, but there’ll be other children to cut down.” Just then another Sith ran up, dressed in the silver body covering armor of a regular Sith soldier. "My Lord, Slayer is dead.”
    His eyes leaving his young opponent, the Sith chuckled at the news. "No matter, he was only a pawn. We’re after a much bugger prize.”
    Feigning exhaustion, Ace slowly moved closer to them, holding his light sabers in supposedly limp arms. Satisfied after a few moments that they weren’t paying attention to him, he leaped at the evil beings, a wordless roar escaping his throat while the twin bars of light leaped out to meet his surprised enemies. The soldier barely managed to get his blaster rifle up before Ace cut him down ; the Lord stumbled back and brought his own blade up, a grim smile now on his face. Fire burned in the Padawan’s eyes, and his foe frowned in concentration, trying to hold off the sudden curiosity that coursed through the Jedi.  Ace feinted a slash from the left then stabbed at the Sith when he raised his saber out to the side to block, burning cleanly through his shoulder. The wounded fighter howled in pain, turning around and feeing down the halls.
    The Sith was fully on the run now, only slashing behind him when Ace got too close. They ran through the long series of halls, hunted never managing to shake the hunter off his trail, fighting briefly while the Sith tried to escape. As they rounded a corner, the hall that lay before them turned out to be littered with debris and bodies. The Sith Lord ran , a grim smile at his nearing escape growing on his face, when suddenly he tripped on an outstretched hand and fell. Ace seized the moment and leaped up over the Sith, his sabers whirling above his head as he somersaulted in midair. He landed on a pile of rubble and ran on, ignoring the wet thud that soon was followed by the heavier sound of it’s staggering body. Tireless in his efforts, the padawan ran through the complex for any surviving JedI.
    As he ran through the halls he encountered more Sith. Ace finally had to stop hunting them as he felt the tell tale signs of exhaustion creeping up on him. Rolling through a corridor, his light sabers whirling to cut the legs off of two Sith in his passing, he sprinted down another hall and skidded to a halt. He’d arrived at the hangar bay……but he was not alone.
    A few months back two padawans  had left the Order, a young spirited boy named Xai, and his fiery female friend Shida. They’d both left in anger, cursing the JedI for not allowing them to love. Now here they were, standing in the bay and cutting down any stray padawans that tried to flee to the ships. Ace walked forward slowly, his light sabers hidden underneath his robes. He regarded them curiously, shaking his head. "You know, when you both left, I was a little jealous. But seeing the crowd you chose to follow made me realize something. You guys are idiots.” The JedI couldn’t believe that they’d do something so against their years of training……but hey, whatever floats your boat.
    "Shut up,” Xai snapped, glaring at his former friend. "What would you know, you follow the Council like a bantha to slaughter. You could have been something Ace, yet you wasted your talents.” He sneered when Ace merely rolled his eyes ; this was nothing new. "Sure,” Ace replied quietly, his mind trying to calculate how to get past these two. "Wasted talents, lamb, slaughter, puppet, muppet, yadda yadda. Look, this is fun and all, but your kind of in my way. So…move please?” His tone was hopeful, but not very convinced.
    "DIE!” Shida screamed, raising her saber and charging at him. Ace groaned, donning a look of suffering patience as he calmly waited for her to get close.  As the young woman got within striking distance he darted forward, his hand shooting out to catch her outstretched saber wielding arm. Before she could react, he deftly pulled down and forward, jerking her around to face where she had come from, and he twisted more on her hand while bending it backwards, opening her grasp on the hilt. The light saber clattered to the ground, it’s blade sizzling into the stone. Shida and Xai stared at him in stunned disbelief, and Ace quirked an eyebrow at them both. "Now will you move?”
    The girl tried to kick him, but he stepped back and caught her leg in mid strike, his hands pulling her forward and off balance. As Xai charged at him, Ace deftly pushed the stumbling girl into his path, causing them both to collide into each other and hit the floor in a heap. Rolling his eyes, Ace quickly walked past them both, heading towards his own personal ship. "Better luck next time,” he called out as he climbed up the steps, ducking as Shida hurled bits of equipment at him ; neither dared get close to him again. "Why me,” he wailed under his breath, hurrying into the cockpit and lowering the bubble canopy.  It was a Nabooin N-1 series, used only by members of the Naboo Royal Air Force, a gift from long ago. With swept back wings laying on the sides like slender silver tubes, a tail that tapered off to a needle’s point towards the back, and the striking gold color that the ships were so noted for, the fighter had the look of a golden bird of prey. A silver astromech droid was in the socket behind the cockpit, and it warbled a greeting as he started up the ship’s systems. "Get us out of here,” he demanded, wincing at the continued clanging from Shida throwing equipment ; why’d women always have to scratch the paint off of a guy’s ship when they were mad???
    As the little droid engaged the system’s and engines, Ace hurried and turned on the shields…..much to his relief and the Sith’s anger. He spent a small amount of time running a pre-diagnostics check to make sure everything was up to par. When that was complete, Ace grabbed the flight yoke and pulled back gently, raising the fighter ten feet off the ground. He nudged the yoke to the side, and the ship turned in a smooth arc towards the hangar entrance. The city of Coruscant gleamed outside, only barely becoming aware of the danger hovering over the JedI Temple. He punched the throttle forward, and the fighter shot out of the bay.
    Ace’s fingers danced across the console, bringing up statistics about his mechanical flight partner, and he shook his head in confusion ; what on Hoth did it mean  Astromech noted for sense of humor ? "JedI being Sith and droids that laugh,” he muttered, giving up on his train of thought to where that could lead. "R-4, contact the temple and see if there are any survivors.” As he spoke, he brought his ship into a dizzying climb, shooting up into the atmosphere and beyond. The droid warbled and hooted, and a message flashed across the holoscreen in front of the control stick.
    ATTEMPTING TO ESTABLISH COMMUNICATIONS…..FAILURE.
    SCANNING FOR LIFE FORMS…..FRIENDLY LIFE SIGNS INSIDE COMPLEX : NEGATIVE
    Ace blinked in shock, shaking his head in denial ; tears had begun sliding down his cheeks. "It can’t be true, it can’t be….” The padawans, the knights and masters, even the lousy cafeteria droid ; how could they all be gone? It was like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from, no matter how hard he tried. As the fighter rocketed beyond Coruscant’s orbit, he entered hyperspace coordinates for the only safe place he knew of, Naboo. The ship made automatic course adjustments and slowed, the lights inside the cockpit dimmed as the hyper drive engines fired up. With a heavy heart Ace watched the as the ship shot into hyperspace, and the stars streaked to lines as the boy was shot forward trillions of miles through space.
    "R-4,” he called out sadly,” wake me up when we’re ten minutes to destination. I need to rest and…” he tried not to choke on his words, he would not cry!”,,,,,and think on all of this. With all of the JedI gone, I’m not sure what I’m going to do…” The words came out as a whimper towards the end, and he closed his eyes, squirming to get comfortable in the small area. Silent tears steaming down his face, Ace drifted off into sleep…..

    Ace’s eyes snapped open as his fighter was ripped from hyperspace.
    Warning  alarms began blaring as he fought to gain control of the small fighter, it’s frame groaning from the stress of being ripped from speeds well beyond the speed of light. "R-4 , what’s going on?!”
    Words flashed rapidly across the holoscreen, and the droid whistled in shrill alarm.
HYPERSPACE ROUTE PRE-MATURELY ENDED. SCANNING FOR CAUSES

SOURCE LOCATED : INTERDICTOR CRUISER.  SYSTEMS STATUS : FULLY OPERATIONAL. RECOMMENDATIONS : AVOID  FLYING INTO THE PATH OF GRAVITY WELL GENERATORS.
    Ace blinked, his eyebrows lifting as he looked at the screen. "Well, my little flying garbage can,” he  murmured dryly,” I would never have thought of that. Any more advice?”
AFFIRMITIVE. RECOMMENDATIONS : EVADE INCOMING MISSILES.
    "MISSILES?!” Ace threw himself at the flight stick, gunning the nimble fighter forward and pulling back and up, pulling the ship into an upward spiraling corkscrew just in time to see the streaming tails of two proton torpedoes as they streaked by where he’d just been. "You could have told me those were there before all the rest of that you know,” he growled, leveling the fighter out as he charged up the shields. The astromech whistled a few times through the fighter comm system, and more words flashed up.
NEGATIVE. PILOT REQUESTED INFORMATION ON SHIP STATUS. RECOMMENDATION : NEXT TIME PILOT SHOULD REQUEST INFORMATION ABOUT ANY INCOMING MISSILES BEFORE REQUESTING INFORMATION ON SHIP STATUS.
    Ace scowled as he jerked the control stick to the right and pushed down and twisted it to the left, throwing the fighter into a barrel roll to evade more speeding torpedoes as they flared into view. "Sense of humor?! No good lousy stinking scrap pile, it’s probably sitting out there right now laughing at me,” he muttered furiously, giving himself something to talk about as he jinked and jerked the fighter into dizzying maneuvers to dodge the many torpedoes. As he leveled it out, the unfolding battle scene came into the view of the bubble canopy.
    Everywhere the fifteen year old boy looked, ships were engaged in battle. From the massive triangular warships of the Republic, their turbo lasers belching plasma and flame at every angle, to the ungainly yet dangerous winged sliver of the V-wing inceptors, Republic warships and fighters could be seen fighting off the most cobbled together odd ball fleet young Ace had ever seen. He caught glimpses of the massive doughnut shapes of the Lukre-hulk battleships, the product so cherished by the Trade Federation factories, mixed in with the bulbous forms of the Mon Calamari capitol ships,  cobbled together crosses between the Z-95 HeadHunter and the tri wings of ARC-179 fighter bombers, to even the rust colored slivers of Geonosian fighters, and much more than the young Jedi could recognize at the moment. "Holy Sith spit,” he breathed, his eyes going wide, "what the Hoth are those scrap piles doing?!?!”
    Ace didn’t have time to ponder, as he had more urgent business to attend to. His warning screen flashed red, signaling multiple hostiles locking on to his ship by both factions. "R-4! Send out our identification signal, patch me through to someone on our side, and start showing readouts of hostile targets, hurry!”
    The droid whirred and whistled, and words flashed onto his holo-projector.
WOULD THE PILOT PREFER A GLASS OF CORRELLIAN COFFEE WITH THAT REQUEST?
    Ace gritted his teeth, making himself many muttered promises of what he was going to do to that smug little trash can when he landed. "Keep it up you little--” He was cut short by a sudden blaring voice as the astromech linked his communication system to a Republic Venator-class cruiser.
    "This is CT-417/9823, captain of the Dusk. This is a secure protocol channel, ship cannons are locking on to your craft now, identify yourself and explain how your craft tapped into high security communications or be eliminated. This is your only warning.” The voice was crisp, clear, the voice of one of the clones of the crumbling Republic Army. Ace sighed, irritated at this whole day, but forced himself to speak calmly into his cyber headset resting on his brow and rolling down to a thin microphone at the corner of his mouth.
    "Captain, this is a Jedi, hence why I have clearance to this channel in the first place. My name is Dark Ace, I’m a member of the Order, and tell me honestly if you can afford to blast me away ; your not handling too well yourself as it is, pal. Losing my help wouldn’t be a smart move.” He jinked the nimble fighter, rolling it as he approached the sea of ships. The astromech whistled as the hostile targets on his view screen turned to friendly, indicating that the captain had recognized and spread the word of his allegiances to the other Republic forces. The voice of the captain blared through his speakers once more.
    "Our apologies, but we’re under orders to blow away any incoming enemy reinforcements. Welcome to the party Jedi, we’ll aid you as you need it.”
    "Just don’t shoot me and we should get along just fine,” the boy replied dryly. Licking his lips as he looked out at the rapidly growing battle in front of him. Laser fire of multiple colors slashed through the void of space, in pursuit of darting fighters. Larger ships were maneuvering for the best position to fire at other ships of similar size, cruisers and frigates unleashing waves of lethal energy at each other in a massive slug fest. Ships of all shapes and sizes showed signs of damage, from scorch marks to gaping holes that spewed forth metal and debris, flash frozen liquids and bodies. It was beautiful, in a chaotic sense, a deadly dance that pulled at Ace’s heart to join in. With a gulp, he tightened his lips, glared at the scene before him, and swooped in like a celestial flying predator.

    CP690-715 "Hot Shot” knew he was in trouble. The damage warning indicators blaring all across his command console testified to it. His LAAT gunship was missing part of it’s port wing, had lost one bubble turret and mangled the other, and was running at less than half it’s usual capacity as internal systems fought to control the fires racing throughout his ship. The ungainly shaped LAAT had been designed for sub-space and atmosphere missions, made to swoop into hot zones to deliver and pick up all manner of people, and get out while causing as much damage as possible. In wind and weather, the gunship was more than a match for all but the most lethal of forces………but in space, it flew just a bit better than a Hutt on an oil slick.
    Smoke filled it’s interior, proof of the immense beating the troop transport had taken, and Hot Shot was working hard just to keep it in control, let alone keeping it in the fight. Four other gunships flew in close formation with his own, rolling and dodging to the best of their sluggish abilities to avoid the cannon fire of the pursuing enemy. Two modified Correllian freighters chased after them, along with four Z-95’s piloted by trigger happy enemies. The gunships following his lead were in much the same condition as his own, belching smoke as their damaged weapon systems tried to return fire at the pursuing forces.  The clone pilot shook his head, bringing his ship into a sluggish roll that narrowly missed a jutting beam sticking out of a wounded Republic frigate. Three other gunships followed closely, but the straggler clipped his wing on the beam as he flew past, sending the LAAT careening off to the side to bounce off of the frigate, colliding with one of the pursuing Z-95’s.
    "Tighten it up pilots, you can die on your own time, right now we have a battle to win.” Hot Shot pulled back and to the side on his control stick as he spoke, darting past the bow of the wounded frigate in an attempt to shake off some of their enemies. The pilots of the other three gunships signed in acknowledgment of his order as they in turn brought their ships across, and Hot Shot was rewarded for the daring maneuver with the flash of an explosion behind him; apparently Z-95 pilots for this battle didn’t possess anywhere near the same lightning fast reflexes as the clones.
    He pushed the gunship into a roll to the right, grimacing as he heard the protesting groan of his ship’s damaged hull rise above the alarms. The lumbering craft dove as it straightened, darting between damaged remained of larger ships in an attempt to lose or eliminate their pursuers. A flash of light bloomed to the right of his ship, and the smoking remains of one of the LAAT’s tumbled ahead and across from his ship, causing him to yank the control stick in an effort to dodge the charred remains. The freighter pilots, it seemed, had a bit better reflexes and aim than their fighter escorts.  His squad now down to two following ships, Hot Shot found himself muttering as he fought with the controls, trying to coax and bully every amount of maneuverability out of his damaged and dying transport. "They may be a scrap fleet, but they sure are making up for it.”
    He slammed his ship up and zipped along the side of  the Venator frigate Dusk, darting between auto turrets and turbo laser towers as he continued to lead his enemies in a deadly game of tag. For a fleeting moment he hoped he could get the ships into one of the frigate’s hangar bays, but that hope sank with his heart when he felt laser fire chewing through his vehicle. Control was rapidly becoming a wishful fantasy as energy beams seared through the reinforced Durasteel hull, too weak from other damage to hold off this assault. A glance at his navi-computer showed that the freighters and their escorts were hot on his tail and gaining fast.  He stubbornly rolled and dodged, determined to make these goons work for their meal of a victim, but could feel his precious ship shudder under the impact of constant fire.
    He knew it wouldn’t be long now before the laser fire penetrated completely through, sparking off an explosion when it contacted with the pressurized air of the transport bay or even puncturing clear through to end his life in a blaze of fire and highly concentrated energy, and so he gritted his teeth as he rolled his ship into one final roll and……………..
    Stayed alive, and with no more pursuing enemies hot on his tail.
    Hot Shot blinked in confusion, watching his previous enemies break off and zoom past his damaged ship, desperately trying to avoid the deadly accuracy of a golden hulled fighter of Naboo. He frowned as he looked at it, straightening his course as he studied the strange new arrival. Though officially neutral in the waning months of the Clone Wars, the battle that raged on around him was orbiting the grassy little orb, a supposed "freak accident” as the Republic just so conveniently happened to have a defensive fleet prepared and stationed at Naboo, waiting for enemy incursions to try and quietly take it hostage once more. In order to make this all seem like a mere coincidence, all local forces had been ordered to stay as far away from the battle as much as they could, which didn’t exactly seem to fit in with the sudden appearance of one of the beautiful gold and silver N-1 fighters, pride of the Royal Navy of Naboo.
    Flicking his slightly damaged comm system on, he spoke on the general frequency he hoped that the pilot would be using. "This is Red Leader to N-1 fighter craft, thanks for the helping hand.”
    Though intensely trained for almost any combat situation and near to invincible to surprise, the clone pilot blinked in astonishment as he heard the voice of a teenage boy respond back to him.
    "Anytime, need an escort back to the hangars? You guys don’t look too good.”
    Hot shot’s eyebrows rose as he struggled to not voice his surprise. "That would be….most welcomed,” he replied in a strangled tone, the best he could managed under the circumstances. "Alright Red Team, what’s left of you anyway, saddle up and follow me, we’ve got cover now, let’s get back to the hangars.
    Relieved affirmatives sounded from the remaining two gunships, the only survivors from a brigade of the fifty LAAT’s that had first flown out of the Dusk, and with a small sigh of relief, all three ships rolled to the right and darted away, flying towards their designated hangar under the watchful eyes of  their mysterious young savior.

    Ace grinned to himself as he maneuvered the small fighter over the gunships.  Not many would expect a boy to be able to pilot a fighter so well, not to mention be flying around in a royal one at that. His fighter darted between the two survivors, guarding them from incoming fighters with the playfulness of a cat. Ships bloomed to flame as they approached, blasted away by the combined power of the LAAT’s and the N-1. Ace smiled as he worked, letting go of everything but living for the moment, delving deep into the Force for guidance in the combat.
    Eventually the white outline of a hangar bay could be seen as they flew, and the two gunships darted inside. "Thanks for the assist kid,” Hot shot’s voice  blared over the system speakers, and Ace smiled.
    "No problem Red Leader, next time you need anything, just scream,” he called back, grinning as he pulled his fighter away. He could hear the chuckles of pilots who were listening in on the conversation, then rolled his eyes at the indignant warbling of R-4. "Yea yea, I’m focusing on the battle.” He leaned away from the input speaker and muttered, "……..Kill Joy.”
    Twitching the control stick back, Ace brought the fighter up over the hull of the Dusk. More twitches jinked the ship through the maze of turbo laser turrets spread all across it’s hull, until he came to the twin towers of the command bridge. The ship rose gracefully up , hugging close to the surface as he shot past the command view screen. He was rewarded with a brief glimpse of the Captain’s face as he zoomed past, his feature’s painted with surprise and exasperation at the young pilot’s stunt. 
    Ace’s joy was short lived however, when he listened to a sudden commotion on the comm systems.