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Author Topic: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions -Update 10/2 (Maarek Stele, Thrawn, OCs)
reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/14/06 10:05am Subject: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions -Update 10/2 (Maarek Stele, Thrawn, OCs) - Date Edited: 10/2 6:33pm (95 edits total) Edited By: reagan64
Ok, here goes...

Title: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions
Author: reagan64
Genre: Squadfic, Action/Adventure
Characters: Maarek Stele, Thrawn, OCs.
Summary: Two years after the Battle of Endor, Maarek Stele, starfighter ace and hero of the Zaarin Campaign, has been deployed to the Unknown Regions under Grand Admiral Thrawn. There he must face alien forces, meddling COMPNOR officers, and his own budding force sensitivity.
Disclaimer: As it is all the rage, I will say here that I don't own Maarek Stele or any other canon character. I only take them in when LucasArts forgets about them.
Notes:

1. I am working under the assumption that Stele had little or no awareness of his force sensitivity, I may be wrong so bear with me.
2. I'm a horrible proofreader/editor.
3. I am not a fleet junkie. Space combat is my favorite part of Star Wars but I am by no means an expert.
4. I am a slow writer. Don't be surprised if I fall behind on updates.

TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions

Dramatis Personae

Galactic Empire

Colonel Maarek Stele (Human male from Kuan)
Major Ingram Staffal (Human male from Couruscant)
Commander Germain Carpus (Human male from Corulag)
Grand Admiral Thrawn (Chiss male from Csilla)
Brevet Commodore Voss Parck (Human male from Corulag)
Captain Dagon Niriz (Human male)
Warrant Officer Liza Keithal (Human female from Bilbringi)

Ungarov Supremacy

Grand Archfather Lek’Galvornka (Ungarov male from Ungar Prime)
Admiral Lek’Rortan (Ungarov male from Ungar Prime)


The Unknown Regions, 6 ABY:

The three TIE Advanced fighters flew through the vanguard of the Imperial Taskforce. Victory-class Star Destroyers, Interdictor Cruisers, Escort Carriers, IPV-1 patrol craft and Modified Corvettes stood vigil over Nirauan. The three ship flight continued its patrol, maintaining a strict “Vic” formation.

From his cockpit in the lead TIE, Colonel Maarek Stele, commander of the Imperial 45th Special Operations Group, monitored the surrounding space and saw nothing out of the ordinary. TIEs of various types flew by on training runs, Lambda-class shuttles ferried personnel between ships, and various vessels jumped in and out to patrol the Gradilis sector.

Stele noticed on his sensors that one of the fighters in his group was falling slowly out of formation.
“Three, close it up.”

“Copy, Lead,” Stele’s wingman, Commander Germain Carpus, a fellow veteran of the Zaarin campaign replied. His Advanced adjusted its course and sped up slightly to regain its proper position. On the other side of Stele, Alpha Two, piloted by his second-in-command, Major Ingram Staffal stoically maintained its rigid position. Staffal had been an instructor at the Imperial Academy, before volunteering to lead the 2/45th. He had proved his worth in the minor skirmishes of the first three months of the group’s tour under Grand Admiral Thrawn, exploring and subjugating the Unknown Regions of the Galaxy in the name of the Galactic Empire. Nothing big had come up yet, the monthly supply convoys being the main event, but Stele felt that was about to change. In fact, that monthly convoy was just why the trio of fighters were out there. They only had to wait a few moments more.

“They’re jumping in sir, Two-Eight-Five,” Staffal announced. Sure enough, five Action VI transports jumped in, twenty klicks off the main Imperial taskforce. Their escort of three Delta-class Escort Shuttles following shortly after.

Diverting power from his lasers, Stele swooped ‘down’ towards the approaching convoy, his wingmen following closely behind.

“Inbound Convoy, this is Alpha on sentry, stand by for inspection.”

“Copy, Alpha. We’re standing by.”

Cutting throttle, Stele slid across the bow of the first transport to the port side and proceeded down the line. Rations, munitions, everything checked out. On reaching the rear of the convoy, he diverted some power back to his lasers. If a fight came, he didn’t want to be caught flatfooted. His time in the Unknown Regions under Thrawn showed him that attacks could come from anywhere.

“Keep an eye out, Alpha Flight, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Copy Lead,”

The flight continued to fly around to convoy to get into an escort position. Stele surveyed the surrounding space. His sensors were clear for the moment, but he had a feeling that was about to change.

Change it did. Nine new contacts appeared eleven klicks out from the main taskforce and the convoy.

“Lead, Two, we have contacts right behind us, they look like Ungarov fighters.”

“I copy, Two.”

“Alpha, this is Imperial Interdictor Cruisr Backfire, they’re heading for the convoy. Clear to engage.”

“Okay, Alpha. Engage. Three, you’re with me.”

Stele swung his fighter around towards the enemy and his two fellow Alphas followed. Easing power to his engines, Stele accelerated towards the advancing fighters.

They were painted black, with a long fuselage. The cockpit was in front, and two large engines were placed on both top and bottom behind the cockpit halfway back. The large straight wings were tipped with ovular fuel containers. In the rear sat an X-shaped tail. With strong shields and performance similar to those pesky Rebel X-Wings, they were more than a match for standard TIEs, hence the presence of the 45th.

“Two, I’m on the leader, take the second, Three, cover me.”

“Two, copy,” came Staffal over the com.

“Three, acknowledged.”

Activating his warhead launcher, Stele fired off a pair of advanced concussion missiles at the lead fighter, then broke to the right to avoid return fire. The first missile struck the port wing while the second hit just behind the cockpit. The Ungarov disintegrated, sending pieces flying in all directions. Meanwhile, Staffal blew a second enemy fighter apart with a pair of missiles, and Carpus peppered a third with laser shots.

Stele dove under another fighter and came around to make a pass on the ship Alpha Three was harassing. Quad linking his lasers, he delivered three bursts into the top engine, detonating it and sending the craft spiraling away before it too exploded in a ball of flame.

“Thanks, Lead.”

“Three, cut the chatter.” Stele turned to another fighter, waited for a lock, and fired a missile. It impacted in the rear of the ship, taking down its rear shields. A quad linked shot finished it off.

“Lead, Three, you have a tail.”

Stealing a glance at his rear sensors, Stele inverted his craft and dove. A pair of laser shots impacted his rear shields but he escaped serious damage. His wing dropped behind the enemy and fired a dozen shots into its rear, sending it spiraling out of control.

Before Stele could turn and rejoin the fight, Staffal’s voice came over the com.

“Lead, two are breaking off and heading for the convoy.” Sure enough, two of the remaining enemy fighters were making a run for the convoy while the last two fought desperately against the Imperial fighters.

“Keep them busy, I’m going after the raiders.”

Without waiting for replies, Stele dumped power from deflector shields to his engines and raced after the pair. On reaching a lock, he fired a pair of missiles into the left fighter, blowing it apart, then set his sights on the second. It jinked as he sprayed it with laser fire. It veered to the right but Stele caught it with a quad laser shot, tearing its starboard wing off. A second blast ripped through the cockpit.

A quick sensor check showed that Two and Three had dispatched the remaining enemy starfighters.

Nine down, no losses. Not a bad days work.




Several Imperial officers piled into the briefing room of the Imperial Star Destroyer Admomitor. On one wall was a large display panel, flanked on the right by a holo display.

The dozen officers, all ranked Line Captain or above, took their seats facing the display, waiting for the commander of the Task Force to arrive and explain why they had been summoned.

Voss Parck, recently promoted to the temporary rank of Commodore, took a seat next to Captain Niriz of the Admonitor. He turned off his comlink and was rewarded by the arrival of the Task Force’s commander, a blue-skinned humanoid in the gleaming white uniform of an Imperial Grand Admiral, identifying him as one of the galaxy’s finest military leaders. He was Grand Admiral Thrawn.

“Gentlemen,” the Admiral began. A couple of the officers sat quietly and one or two snickered, likely at the Grand Admiral’s obvious alien heritage, but Thrawn ignored them and continued.

“Over the last several weeks, your ships have fought in small but brutal engagements with scout ships of an alien race in the Gradilis and Larren sectors. I have studied the enemy thoroughly and have decided now is the time to attack. He turned to the display panel which now showed a map of the Unknown Regions, with a number of systems marked in red.

“The Ungarov Supremacy spans seventeen worlds, not including their numerous satellite worlds and protectorates. The first step in our assault will be to establish outposts in these three systems,” as he spoke three of the red systems turned light blue. “From there the next phase of our plan can take place.” He paused and surveyed the crowd thoughtfully, as if his haunting red eyes were reading them like a holobook.

Thrawn now turned to the holo display, which now showed an Ungarov fighter.

“Data raids courtesy of Commodore Parck have revealed detailed information on the Ungarov craft encountered by our forces. With three laser cannons and a warhead launcher, as well as shields nearly equivalent to the Rebel BTL-S3 Y-Wing, this craft is a worthy threat to both TIE Fighters as well as our smaller capital ships. I have directed Engineering to program new simulations to counter these fighters.” He ended his speech and scanned the room.

“Dismissed.”

Commodore Parck stayed behind after the others had left and followed Thrawn to his private meditation room. Thrawn calmly sat down in his command chair, pushed a few of the many buttons on the armrest, and as Parck had anticipated due to his time with the Thrawn, holographic artwork.

The darkness of the room seemingly amplified the jagged Stelas, each filled with ridges, outriggers and carvings, all very rough. The carvings looked like they had been made by a rancor, not a skilled artisan.

“Ungarov art, Commodore.”

“Of course,” Parck replied gravely.

“I suppose you are wondering, Commodore,” Thrawn gestured to the room with his right hand. “Why the Ungarov would make such amateur works of art? Surely not fit for an exhibition?” Parck grimaced. Thrawn was too good at reading people.

“The Ungarov use their strong mandibles to carve inscriptions and figures in their art. These sculptures are as much shows of force as works of art.” Parck grimaced.

“They sound like formidable opponents, sir.”
Thrawn nodded.

“The Ungarov have a strong sense of loyalty, to both their species and their overlords. To them, betrayal is not only intolerable, but unthinkable.” The Chiss Admiral smiled. “And that, Commodore, will be their undoing.”





In the pilot ready room of the Victory II-class Star Destroyer Mauler, the three pilots of Colonel Stele’s flight relieved themselves of their bulky flightsuits, relieved to be back in the marginally fresher air of the warship, while the next patrol donned theirs.

Commander Carpus ran a hand through his jet-black hair.

“Well that was fun.”

“We’re not out here to have fun, Three. We’re here to bring these systems under Imperial Law.”

“Sorry, sir,” Carpus replied, a little too defensively for Maarek’s taste. “It’s not every day the group gets to bullseye nine Ungos.”

“It’s not every day we have to listen to you yap about it either,” growled Staffal.

“That’s enough you two,” Stele snapped. “It is a great honor to be allowed to...”

“Attention!” All heads in the room turned. A stern looking, middle-aged man in the grey-white uniform of the Imperial Security Bureau walked entered the room, stopping before Stele. All pilots in the room stood to attention and saluted.

“At ease,” the agent said.

“Colonel Tolen,” Stele said with fake cheerfulness. “What brings you to the Mauler?”

“That information would happen to be classified for the moment,” the goon said smugly. “There is a briefing for you and your men tomorrow morning at 0400 standard hours. Be there.” The ISB Colonel made an abrupt turn and briskly walked out of the room.

“A briefing,” Carpus muttered. “That means an offensive.”

“Looks like it,” Staffal replied tersely.

“We’ll get to take the war to the Ungos,” a pilot in the rear interjected.

“Who knows,” Stele replied, hanging his flightsuit on its hook on the wall of the room. “It could just be another convoy coming through. Whatever it is we’ll do our duty.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilots replied.

The next morning, the men of the 45th Special Operations Group woke early. They dressed in their service uniforms and piled into the Mauler’s briefing room. Their commanding officers as well as Colonel Tolen awaited them.

The room was of the standard layout, with a large display panel and the briefing officers, Stele and Tolen standing to the right, their hands clasped firmly behind their back. When everyone had sat down and had their eyes forward the lights dimmed and the screen displayed a map of the Unknown Regions. Tolen stepped forward.

“Gentlemen, today our operations against those who would stand against Imperial Law begin in earnest. When you go out today, and join combat against the enemies of our Empire, you will remember what you are fighting for: The triumph and vindication of the New Order, peace and order for our children and grandchildren.”

The speech had all the flattery and rhetoric one would expect from a COMPNOR flunkie. One who relished ideology and expected everyone to do the same. Fourtanatly for the assembled pilots, he was soon able to get back on task with the briefing.

“Admiral Thrawn has ordered that a series of outposts be constructed on the edge of several enemy systems.” He paused as the map zoomed in on a system on the edge of Ungarov territory.

“The 45th has been assigned to provide protection for the construction of platform NP-7 in the Leksor system.” Tolen turned to face Stele, who stepped forward to take over the briefing.

“I will lead the First Squadron, callsign ‘Aurek’ to secure the construction site. Second Squadron, callsign ‘Besh’ under Major Staffal will escort a convoy carrying the outpost. Assuming all goes well, construction should be able to commence almost immediately.” Stele folded his arms and waited for his words to sink in. “Opposition is currently unknown. We’ll be operating behind enemy lines so we may encounter much heavier resistance than we have in the past.”

Stele looked around and saw a few nods of approval, but most of his pilots simply sat with grim determination written on their faces. Some of them might very well die that day, that was always true in the Imperial Navy.

Especially when so little is known about the enemy.
Stele had faith in his pilots. A few had flown with him against the traitorous Admiral Zaarin. Almost half had flown at Endor. Some, including Staffal, had been flying since before the Battle of Yavin yet were still alive.

Yes, I have faith in my men. We will triumph. The Emperor had faith in me so I will have faith in them. Stele felt a wave of sorrow over the loss the Empire had borne at Endor. The Rebels would pay for what they had done.

An hour later, twelve TIE Advanced fighter of Aurek Flight left the hangar of the Mauler and formed themselves into three sections of four each. The four ships in Section One checked in and Stele awaited the other two.

“Section Two, all lights in the green,” the filtered voice of Aurek Five came in over the com.

“Section Three, standing bye.”

“Okay, Aurek Flight,” Stele radioed calmly on the flight frequency. “We’re going to jump in and hold while Besh Flight and the convoy move in. If we encounter any resistance we’ll be on our own.”

“Copy, Lead,” one of the pilots replied.

“The coordinates are already loaded onto your nav computers, prepare to jump to hyperspace on my mark.” Stele waited a few seconds as confirmations came in from the section leaders.

“Mark.” The dozen fighters jumped. Not a single one of them had any idea what they were to face.




Admiral Lek’Rortan stood firmly on the bridge of his flagship, the Lek Destiny. On either side of the massive Ungarov battleship, the Lek Pride and Lek Honor held escort positions.
The insectoid Admiral opened his large mandibles and grinned. As the younger brother of the reigning Archfather, he had risen quickly up the ranks of the Ungarov Navy. He was however, clearly competent. Early in his career, he had participated in a raid on an Elklu luxury liner during a rebellion by that decrepit race. After penetrating the command deck, he and his squad disabled the helm controls, allowing Ungarov warships to finish it off. Since then, there had been little unrest in the Ungarov protectorates. The occasional pirate raid, as well as patrols along the border with the remnants of the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium, took up the Navy’s time and mandate. Inaction meant few oppurutunities for advancement, but merely being a member of the Lek dynasty meant constant promotion.

Rortan stared out the curved 180 window of the bridge. This “Empire” had only arrived a few weeks prior and had taken their time engaging his forces. The few skirmishes they had engaged in revealed them to be a definite threat to the Ungarov Supremacy. Although many of their fighters lacked energy shields and dozens were destroyed by his forces, scouts had detected enemy capital ships. In fact, some of those very same scouts were due back in a few tunits...

The blast door in the rear of the bridge opened and a large Ungarov entered, kneeling before the Admiral. With large mandibles and a height slightly surpassing Rortan’s two and a half meters, it was obvious he would go far.

“Lekhib,” the aide started with the traditional honorific.

“Have our scouts reported in yet?” Rortan asked, not turning his back. Had he not been of exceedingly high birth, he would have said “my scouts” but as a Lek he opted to use the Royal We. It was the best idea the Supremacy had ever gained from their monitoring of foreign communications traffic.

“Lekhib, your scouts have located the main section of the enemy fleet by following one of their supply convoys, but were destroyed before they could return.” Rortan turned and looked down on the kneeling biped.

“Were they able to transmit information about the enemy fleet, Shipdeacon?”

“Yes, Lekhib.” The young Ungarov did not dare raise his eyes. The Admiral contemplated this for a few moments.

“You have done well, Nan’Wallpor. Your loyalty as well as that of your family will be long remembered. You are dismissed.”

The Shipdeacon rose, bowed slowly, turned, and with powerful strides left the control room.

Rortan watched him go, then turned to one of the other Shipdeacons manning consoles on the sides of the room.

“Get me the technical data for the target ships, and connect me to Grand Archfather Lek’Galvornka. He will need to learn of this.”

“Yes, Lekhib.”

Rortan smiled. Or at least did the closest that could come to a smile with twin mandibles. The enemy would come, and they would be crushed. The Ungarov Supremacy controlled nearly a hundred worlds, whole fleets were at his command. Who knew, maybe, after the Empire had been defeated and his brother passed one, it would all be his. All he had to do was wait, and Lek’Rortan was content to wait.

Love it, hate it? Coldly indifferent?

 

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TnTornado  825 posts
Registered: Jun '06
6421_Mandalorian Seal
Date Posted: 10/14/06 10:58am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions
Hey that was a great start, Please add me to the PM list, I haven't read much in this area of time.

Great start, looks like you have a good cast of characters.

TnTornado

 

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reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/14/06 12:04pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/24 - Date Edited: 10/24/06 8:04am (1 edits total) Edited By: reagan64
TnTornado posted:
Hey that was a great start, Please add me to the PM list, I haven't read much in this area of time.

Great start, looks like you have a good cast of characters.

TnTornado


Thanks, I agonized for nearly an hour on whether to hit the "Post" button.

 

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evangelion1 
Registered: Apr '06
Date Posted: 10/14/06 4:23pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions
not bad i like it so far good job

 
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reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/19/06 3:55pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/19 - Date Edited: 1/17/07 10:36am (2 edits total) Edited By: reagan64
Okay, it's time for a new update. Thanks for the reviews, TnTornado and evangelion1.Double thanks for not saying something like "Get a beta, noob!" Not that anyone here would say that... worried



Hyperspace gave Stele a lot of time to think. Increasingly his thoughts began to dwell on the Empire. At times he felt the Empire he loved was dying, torn apart by Warlords, incompetence and corruption. At times he wondered what he was doing taming the fringes of the Galaxy when he could go be hunting down the rogue elements of the Empire like Zsinj and Harrsk. Stele had after all spent much of his career doing just that, participating in the campaigns against Admiral Harkov and Zaarin. It was what he and Grand Admiral Thrawn did best.

Speaking of Thrawn, what exactly was he doing out here? Sure the Ungarov were formidable opponents, but Thrawn’s genius was needed elsewhere holding the Empire together. Still, since Thrawn was the best the Empire had, Stele would have to trust him.
The best the Empire has.

Stele’s gaze shifted down to his left forearm. The Emperor’s death had been a tragedy. Only he could have held together his vast Empire. Only he could have protected it from the squabbling warlords and bureaucrats who had squandered the Galaxy, allowing the Rebels to take more and more territory. Here, two years after the Battle of Endor, the Empire Stele had sacrificed so much for was a mere shadow of its former self. Perhaps, when these Ungarov were defeated, he and Thrawn could return to the Known Regions and crush the Rebellion, as the Emperor had wished.

Stele was finally rid of his thoughts when the hyperdrive alarm went off. Placing both hands on the control stick, the now composed fighter ace placed both hands on the control stick and braced for the reversion to realspace.

The twelve TIE Advanced fighters of Aurek Flight decelerated to sublight speed to be greeted by the vast expanses of space. It appeared they had the element of surprise for now.

“Split into wing pairs and form a perimeter around the Convoy’s exit point,” Stele ordered. With parade ground precision, the twelve fighters split and began to fan out, the wing pairs forming a loose circle around the spot where Staffal and the convoy was expected to arrive in minutes.

“All clear so far,” came the voice of one of the Aurek pilots. “Looks like we gave them the slip.”

“Cut the chatter, seven,” Stele snapped. “They could be tracking our com signals.”

After holding position for several minutes, a new voice came over the com.

“Aurek One, this is Convoy Grek Seven carrying XQ6 platform, we are jumping in.”

“Copy Grek Seven, read you loud and clear.”

The convoy, a mixture of Container Transports and Escort Shuttles, flanked by Besh Flight soon jumped in, arranging themselves in the center of the Imperial phalanx.

“Aurek One, we are deploying the base. You’ll have to cover us until the Corefounder relieves you.”

“Copy,” Stele replied grimly. No Ungarov patrols had been sighted yet, which meant this had the potential to be a long and boring mission.

Space Tugs and Imperial Zero-Gravity Engineers, wearing heavily modified Zero-G Stormtrooper armor deployed from the Container Transports and began the meticulous work of assembling the components of containers which would make up Outpost NP-7. For nearly half an hour this continued, containers and panels shuttled back and forth and put into position.

Stele found it difficult to pay attention to the proceedings, as he imagined was the same with all the men of the 45th. TIE pilots were men of action, and waiting around while Engineers put together chunks of metal was not their idea of a fun morning.

It was perhaps fortunate that Stele’s thoughts were interrupted by dim flashes in the distance, he was lucky that his eyes, sharpened by years of flying, had caught them. Otherwise he would have missed the full squadron of Ungarov fighters entering realspace.

“Fighters coming in,” the convoy commander said, sounding a little panicked. Obviously he had never seen the 45th work.

“Aurek Flight,” Stele ordered calmly. “Engage the fighters. Besh, hang back and protect the convoy.” Immediately, twelve of the TIEs broke off and boosted towards the incoming enemy formation.

“All power to rear deflector shields, switch to dual-fire missiles and pick your target. Fire on my mark.”

Stele briefly considered diverting shield energy to weapons in order to close the gap before the enemy fighters could launch torpedoes, but decided against it. If any Ungarov survived the initial salvo, or if reinforcements arrived a melee would ensue and he’d need all the shielding he could get.

At three klicks his sights turned from blue to yellow to red. With a single shout of “Fire,” he squeezed the trigger. Twenty-four streaks flew ahead towards the oncoming Ungarov phalanx.

A few in the center contracted, most likely hoping their overlapped shields would protect them from harm. The rest scattered. Neither tactic worked.

The line of missiles slammed into the scattered formation, leaving ten sets of debris scattered through the spaceborne battlefield. A dozen dual-shots from the Advanced quickly finished off the survivors.

“Sir, two more squadrons coming in!” came Carpus’ panicked voice.

“Cut the chatter, Engage Aurek!” Stele snapped. “Full power to engines.” Stele did a quick calculation and figured that the newcomers would be in range before he’d be able to get off missiles or lasers.

“Hang tight, Besh. You should have a good minute on us.”

“Copy,” Staffal replied grimly.”

If Staffal can handle those torps, I might be able to get there in time.

“Aurek Lead, we have something big incoming,” the Convoy Leader piped in over the comm.

Frack!

Twenty klicks ahead of the convoy, now forming into a defensive circle with the Zero-G engineers and skeletal frame of the outpost in the center, came a large cylindrical starship.

It was largely, nearing the size of an Imperial Star Destroyer, with a pair of large pectoral fins at each end. The whole ship was black, but Stele could just make it out.

“Stay on the fighters,” Stele ordered. “Grek Seven, we need Corefounder in here now!”

“Negative,” the Convoy Commander’s voice was strained. “She can’t push her hyperdrive any faster.”

“Copy,” Stele replied, forcing a calmness into his voice.

“Torpedoes inbound!” a panicked voice Stele couldn’t identify shrieked. Sure enough, twenty-four streaks of light accelerated away from the Ungarov to the convoy.

“Besh, take them out, Aurek ETA twenty seconds!”
“Copy.”

Several missiles spit out from the huddled fighters of Besh flight, four of the Ungarov torpedoes detonated in flashes of light. Laser shots quickly tagged three more before Stele and Aurek were finally in range.

He fired off a pair of missiles at one of the fighters, detonating its rear section and sending it spiraling out of control. Switching to lasers, he showered its wingman with dual shots, setting the top engine on fire, spreading to a fuel line in the starboard wing, detonating the fighter.

Breaking left to avoid an incoming fighter, Stele sighted a torpedo and sent a quartet of shots firing its way. It detonated, spraying a nearby Escort Shuttle with debris. After vaping a third fighter with a pair of missiles, Stele took time to scan the battlefield. All torpedoes had either been destroyed or had reached their targets, shown by one of the Container Transports bursting into flames.

Stele’s assessment was rudely interrupted by a squeal from his sensor warning receiver. Two missiles had found their way to his tail. Snapping the control stick to the right, he threw the agile TIE into a corkscrew, then dove to the left. The first missile overshot, darting past his right solar array and slamming into a nearby transport, sending ripples of power over the shields but causing no discernible damage.

The second impacted the starboard panel pylon, sending shockwaves through the TIE and cutting out the rear shields. Stele jerked left and right to avoid the laser shots now streaking through the space behind him.

“Sir behind you!”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Three!” Stele barked. Stele stole a glance at his sensors and noticed another contact coming from his left, and fast. “Get the hell over here.” Stele dodged the next few bolts, these coming from his new attacker, a second Ungarov fighter. He was able to evade most, but a single shot grazed the side of the cockpit where the ball met the pylon. Fortunately, the ship was still vacuum capable. After dodging a few more seconds to allow his shields to recharge, Stele leveled out, allowing the Ungarov to slide in behind him and begin splattering his rear shields with laser blasts.

“Carpus, I’ve got this one under control, engage the other one.”

“Copy.”

Cutting his throttle, Stele inverted the Advanced and pulled hard on the control stick, putting his craft into a loop. The Ungarov overshot, allowing Stele to quickly set the enemy fighter in his sights. Selecting missiles, he squeezed the triggers.

Error. Control to Missile Launcher offline.

“I guess there’s always the old fashioned way,” Stele muttered. Selecting single fire, he peppered the now evasive fighter with shots. It’s shields withered and died, followed by a trio of shots striking a fuel line, vaporizing the ship. With a quick glance to his sensor board, Stele confirmed that his wingman had dispatched the other enemy.

All the Ungarov fighters had now been destroyed or driven off. Unfortunately that still left a rather large and menacing capital ship.

“Aurek Lead, that Capship is heading straight for us!”
“Copy, Grek Seven,” Stele replied dryly. “Forty-fifths, form up on me.”

Various acknowledgments came through, totally unnecessary in Stele’s opinion. Sensors and insight would do the trick.

“All power to engines,” he ordered. “We’re going right towards the bridge.”

“Sir?” Staffal’s gruff voice sounded panic, as unlikely as it sounded.

“We have to draw fire away from the convoy,” Stele growled. “We’re going to cut across and keep them busy.”
“Acknowledged,” Staffal acquiesce.

The twenty-two surviving TIEs accelerated towards the approaching starship, now a mere twelve clicks away, already firing ranging shots at the partially assembled platform, as well as the Imperial convoy.

“Spread out,” Stele ordered.

Accelerating rapidly, Stele turned his fighter on its side and flew past the bridge of the enemy warship, skirting the starboard side of the vast black cylinder, a mere forty meters off the hull. The fighters of the 45th followed, but none dared get quite so close.

Turbolaser and anti-starfighter fire rained out of the warship, clipping one or two of the Imperial fighters but causing no losses. Stele’s ploy had worked, the Ungarov were now concentrating their efforts on destroying the immediate apparent threat, seemingly content to wait to finish off the apparently defenseless convoy.

Stele jerked and swerved to avoid fire as he neared the end of the ship. A flash of a turbolaser raced by, streaking through where the tiny ball cockpit of the TIE had been moments before. Stele reached the stern and veered sharply right, skirting the edge of the engine exhaust.

“Break off and go evasive,” Stele shouted over the comm. His followers complied, scattering all over the Ungarov ship.

“We can’t keep this up forever, sir,” Staffal broke in, as a pair of turbolaser bolts slammed into Besh Eleven, reducing it to a ball of flame.

“We don’t have to,” Stele shot back over a secure channel. “The Corefounder has a flight of Gunboats attached to her, they’ll have rockets!” If only we had a Missile Boat, then I could take this thing out myself.

“More fighters launching from the cruiser!” Carpus shrieked. Two dozen Ungarov fighters shot out of the ship’s midsection in shield trios and engaged the TIE Advanced.

“Learn fast, don’t they,” another pilot muttered.

“Cut the chatter,” all fighters engage.” Equaled out power to his systems and looked to the ensuing maelstrom. He sighed, and joined in the fray.



Higher Captain Gron’Bintaghr snarled. He had just sent in the reserve fighters and already he had lost five. The Imperial pilots were good, and these ones had fighters superior to his own. One by one, more Ungarov fighters disappeared from his sensor screens. He gazed at the convoy ahead of his battleship. So close, yet so seemingly distant. If he left his fighters without flak cover, they’d be slaughtered, but if he stayed put, the convoy would surely escape. Neither outcome would curry favor with the Leks. An Ungarov naval officer needed patronage to have any hope of advancement.

“Better a costly victory than the dishonor of defeat,” Bintaghr muttered. He turned to the Shipdeacon manning the helm to his right.

“Engines ahead one hundred percent,” he ordered. The Shipdeacon cringed.

“Lekhib, that would leave the fighters without sufficient fire support.”

“I am not losing that convoy Shipdeacon, full speed!” The hapless junior officer complied, and the ship’s massive engines powered up.

“All batteries concentrate fire on the convoy!” Bintaghr roared. Flashes of light and bolts of green fire rained down on the hapless convoy. Several Container Transports burned as the surviving Escort Shuttles broke off to engage the Ungarov warship.

Bintaghr flexed his mandibles in anticipation. The Imperial fighters could do all the pretty maneuver they wanted, but could not harm his massive starship. The Scout craft could easily be taken care of by his heavy batteries. Soon the convoy and the station would be destroyed and he would be rewarded. The fighter casualties had been heavy, but it did not matter. It was no secret that many of those sent to die for the Ungarov were of lesser races, subjugated generations ago. The now slaughtered fighter reserve had been composed entirely of those conscripts.

“Lekhib,” the strained voice of another bridge officer tore Bintaghr out of his moment of glory.

“This better be important,” he growled.

“Lekhib, look!”

Out through the starboard bridge viewport, as well as the onboard consoles, the Ungarov were treated to the sight of a mid-sized warship reentering realspace.



“It’s the Corefounder! Woohoo!”

The newly-arrived Carrack Cruiser glided gently towards the Ungarov ship, its ten heavy turbolasers pounding the shields of the beast as her small complement of TIE Interceptors and escort of Xg-1 assault starfighters moved into position.

“Aurek Lead, this is Nu Flight, we are moving into position. Cover us.”

“Copy Nu, good hunting.”

The four gunboats accelerated towards the Ungarov capital ship, launching a volley of sixteen heavy rockets. The rockets streaked towards the doomed ship, its deflector shields weakened by the Corefounder’s barrage. Upon impact, the large warship shuddered and burst into balls of fire and debris.

“Verify ordinance on target,” the gunboat flight leader requested smugly.

“On target,” Stele replied as the embers burned out. All Ungarov forces had been destroyed and the station had suffered only minimal damage. That only leaves the matter of three TIEs and a pair of Container Transports.

“Aurek Lead, this is Captain Travik,” a new voice announced. “We’ll be taking things from here. You’re clear to return to the Mauler.

“Copy, sir.” Stele’s reply was short and emotionless. He was simply glad it was over.



And there it is. Future updates probably won't be as long as these two. I've definately been overestimating how much work is needed to fill space on the boards.

 

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correllian_ale  3600 posts
Title: Manager Emeritus
 Registered: Jun '05
50433_H1037: Pirate
Date Posted: 10/19/06 6:38pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/19
Wow! Great fic you've got me engrossed in here reagan64. You're descriptions are great, and even if claim not to be a "Fleet Junkie", you sure had me fooled. tongue

This is great:

Hyperspace gave Stele a lot of time to think. Increasingly his thoughts began to dwell on the Empire. At times he felt the Empire he loved was dying, torn apart by Warlords, incompetence and corruption. At times he wondered what he was doing taming the fringes of the Galaxy when he could go be hunting down the rogue elements of the Empire like Zsinj and Harrsk. Stele had after all spent much of his career doing just that, participating in the campaigns against Admiral Harkov and Zaarin. It was what he and Grand Admiral Thrawn did best.

Nice tie-in to the EU. wink Really exciting stuff here, the space battle engagements are really well done.

applause applause

Don't worry too much about time between posts, sometime it helps to take your time with something this good; but mind shooting me a PM when you do update?

 

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TheCrazyRodian  1445 posts
Registered: Mar '04
Date Posted: 10/20/06 12:55am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/19
Oh I LOVE Tie Fighter! As cool as it is to get to read about Rogue Squadron and all them, there's something eminently satisfying about seeing things from the Imperial POV. I'm looking forward to reading more.

 

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evangelion1 
Registered: Apr '06
Date Posted: 10/20/06 3:25am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/19
it just keeps getting better and better keep it up

 
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reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/20/06 1:42pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/19
correllian_ale posted:
Wow! Great fic you've got me engrossed in here reagan64. You're descriptions are great, and even if claim not to be a "Fleet Junkie", you sure had me fooled. tongue

This is great:

Hyperspace gave Stele a lot of time to think. Increasingly his thoughts began to dwell on the Empire. At times he felt the Empire he loved was dying, torn apart by Warlords, incompetence and corruption. At times he wondered what he was doing taming the fringes of the Galaxy when he could go be hunting down the rogue elements of the Empire like Zsinj and Harrsk. Stele had after all spent much of his career doing just that, participating in the campaigns against Admiral Harkov and Zaarin. It was what he and Grand Admiral Thrawn did best.

Nice tie-in to the EU. wink Really exciting stuff here, the space battle engagements are really well done.

applause applause

Don't worry too much about time between posts, sometime it helps to take your time with something this good; but mind shooting me a PM when you do update?


Ok, so the PM list is currently as follows:
TnTornado
correlian_ale

If anyone wants to be added, or If I've made a mistake let me know.
Hopefully I haven't screwed up on a two-person list. wink

 

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reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/24/06 8:03am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/24 - Date Edited: 1/17/07 10:38am (1 edits total) Edited By: reagan64
Correlian Ale: Well, I sure can't understand anything they say on their board. It might just be my lack of post-GCW reading, though. Glad you liked the EU references.
evangelion1: Will do.
TheCrazyRodian: Yeah, I also like Imperial stories.



After a quick nap and a ‘meal’ of a few ration bars, Stele and seven hand-picked men of the 45th departed for a second patrol of the NP-7 construction site. It was assumed, with the station’s construction discovered, that the Ungarov would strike again. So, eight TIE Advanced were to fly their second patrol of the day, despite Staffal’s protests that the whole group would be needed.

“Why weaken ourselves like that? He had asked. “We need all the ships we can get.” Stele however had argued that fewer fighters would mean better coordination, and therefore more kills.

“It wrecks havoc on situational awareness,” Stele had countered. “It’s a proven fact kill efficiency fall when the number of pilots increases. We have the skills to fight with less, ‘Gram.” Colonel Tolen, confident as always, had agreed. They were going in with eight.

They fell out of hyperspace and were greeted by the station, the Corefounder, and an Assassin-class Corvette, the Gorrell, recently arrived at the build site.

“Incoming fighter patrol, this is Vacuum Construction Site NP-7, please identify yourself.”

“This Colonel Maarek Stele, Cherek Leader, of the 45th Special Operations Group.”

“Copy, Cherek Lead. You are clear to begin your patrol.”

The TIEs broke into two sections, one lead by Stele, and the other by Staffal. Stele and his wingmen proceeded at a leisurely pace around the base perimeter while Staffal’s force held back and scanned incoming cargo vessels.

The minutes creeped by, allowing Stele’s thoughts to drift, a detestable occurrence for a pilot but one occurring with an alarming frequency. Perhaps it was the decline of the Empire’s fortunes, even Colonel Tolen couldn’t hide it from the 45th, or maybe he was just used to crises and scrambles to intercept enemy forces, not the monotony and uncertainty of patrol.

Danger!

Stele sprung into action.

“Break! Break!” Without hesitation or question, Cherek Flight scattered in all directions, barely missed by a full squadron of Ungarov fighters exiting hyperspace where they had been moments before.

What the kriff? Stele thought. How did I...

Shaking the presently irrelevant thought from his head, Stele dove to right a full three hundred and sixty degrees, placing him directly behind an unsuspecting Ungarov fighter. With a shout of “Cover me!” he begin sending a stream of dual laser shots towards his victim. Ripples of energy splashed over its shields. Keeping the erratically jinking ship in his sights, Stele struck the starboard wing with a pair of expertly placed shots, ripping it off and sending the fighter spiraling away before detonating in a fireball.

Stele’s climbed over the explosion and he searched for his next target, selecting a pair making a run for the station.

“Carpus, form on me, I’m marking your target now.”

“I copy, Lead.”

Accelerating, Stele centered his sights on the rear of the enemy fighter. Quad linking his lasers, he sent four bursts into the rear of the ship. It spun to the right, diving away from the shots.

Not so fast.

Slamming the control stick into the left of the cockpit, Stele forced his craft in a left spiral, after a few seconds the two fighters returned to the same vector, the TIE Advanced sliding to the rear of the Ungarov. Squeezing the triggers, Stele sent a final quad laser shot into his opponent, tearing it apart. Carpus quickly dispatched his fighter with a barrage of dual laser fire.

“More signals coming in!”

Two more squadrons had jumped out on the edge of the base perimeter, as well as three more ships of an unidentified class. They were roughly the size of a large transport, appearing to be about forty meters long, with a blocky structure, squared edges, and bristling with guns.

“They’re headed for the station!” Captain Travik called. “I think they’re boarding craft.”

“I copy,” Stele commed back. “Okay Cherek, engage the boarding craft.”

“Cherek Lead, we’re launching group Dorn to assist.” Stele stole a glance at the eight TIE Interceptors now departing the Corefounder and Gorrell. The nimble demisquadron dove into the Ungarov fighter screen, spewing laser fire with ferocity.

“Keep those fighters busy, Dorn.” Selecting dual missiles, Stele targeted the lead boarding craft, firing two pairs of as soon as the targeting reticle turned red. They struck the nose of the strange craft, shaking it and sending energy pulsing all over, but the shields remained intact. Stele fired the rest of his missiles into the midsection and dove towards the beast, pouring in quad laser shots. When he was a mere two hull lengths away, he was rewarded with an explosion and pulled up, betting that his shields would hold off the immense heat of the detonation.

The other seven Advanced poured missiles and concentrated laser fire into the two remaining boarding craft, sending fire and debris spraying the dark vacuum. When the craft were down, a vicious melee began . Laser shots flew across the ‘sky,’ resulting in the detonation of several Ungarov fighters.

A TIE Interceptor took fire and exploded, closely followed by a second sent spiraling into the Corefounder. Diving towards the rear of an Ungarov, Stele unleashed a few bursts of single shots. The enemy fighter spun and dove, only a few of Stele’s shots connecting. Stele followed, switching to dual blasts and sending a pair into the rear fuselage. It shook, but the shields held together. It broke right, only to be met by a trio of shots. It rose to the left, and Stele quickly countered , centering it right into his sights for the kill.
Break! Break!

Without thinking, or even hesitating, stele broke, avoiding a pair of Ungarov and their volleys of laser fire.

“A little help, three!”

“Copy, sir.”

Carpus appeared, almost like magic behind one of Stele’s attackers, firing a pair of missiles at point blank range, tearing off the wings and detonating the rest a second later. The second would-be assassin broke off, and engaged a nearby Interceptor.

Stele broke to the left, sending his fighter into a snap roll to dodge an errant laser shot. He concentrated his focus on a lone Ungarov fighter. He sprayed it with fire, weaving left and right to keep it in his sights. He stole a glance away from his target to check the battle situation. Half the Interceptors were down, but fortunately the 45th was intact, albeit with a little damage around.

“Four, keep those fighters off the station, Seven, break!” he thundered over the comm.

Positioning his head back to the target, he started an upward-right corkscrew, sensing that the enemy would try a Split-S maneuver, it did, and Stele was able to put several more shots into its top, detonating the engine. He jerked right to avoid a three meter chunk of debris.

Danger! Danger!

“Not again,” Stele mumbled, throwing his fighter into a spin. To his astonishment, no fire or missiles pursued him, and his sensors read that no Ungarov fighters were nearby, in fact, he had drifted far away from the few still operational.

“I’ve got one on my six!” Carpus’ voice screeched over the comm. “They have reinforcements coming in..” the message ended in static.

Frack! With the mysterious sense permeating his thought, he hadn’t kept an eye on his wingman, a quick glance at the sensors revealed more Ungarov fighters jumping in. Shunting all power to his engines, he darted back towards Carpus.

His loyal, though somewhat grainless wingman was pursued by three Ungarov fighters peppering his declining shields with fire. He had been able to use his ship’s superior performance to keep himself undamaged, but his luck was beginning to run out.

A pair of shots grazed the port side of his ball cockpit, sending sparks flying. He veered to the right, resulting in a third shot disintegrating his solar array.

“Ejecting!” Carpus rocketed out of the pulverized fighter. Stele made out his shrunken form above the battle. One of the Ungarov broke off and rose to engage the helpless pilot.

Shunting power to shields and lasers, Stele decelerated almost on top of the enemy fighter, sending a torrent of laser fire towards his opponent. Shocks rippled through the Ungarov, its shields shone and faded.

No time to go around...

Stele slammed into the front of the Ungarov, ripping the cockpit off and killing his forward momentum and shields. The TIE’s structure groaned but remained intact.

Behind him, the two other Ungarov fighters were picked off by the remaining members of Cherek Flight.

“Cherek Lead, to Corefounder, we need a pickup ASAP!”

“Copy, Lead. We have an Escort Shuttle on its way.”

“Copy,” Stele signed off. “Okay people, keep them off Carpus!”

With renewed vigor, the Chereks hounded down the Ungarov fighters, destroying five more before they retreated.

Read and Review, please!

 

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TnTornado  825 posts
Registered: Jun '06
6421_Mandalorian Seal
Date Posted: 10/24/06 3:22pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/24
First off, great couple of updates, your doing a great job with the characters and situations, your battle scenes are easy for me to follow.

you know at first when I read the parts where he was sensing danger I thought it might have been when Cbaoth first started helping, until I went to the top to post my reply and I saw that he has budding force sensitivity, which does make sense.

Keep it up!

TnTornado

 

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TheCrazyRodian  1445 posts
Registered: Mar '04
Date Posted: 10/24/06 3:50pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/24
Good post!

I'd also like to be added to the PM list, if you don't mind.

 

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reagan64  572 posts
Registered: Feb '06
18589_Missile Boat
Date Posted: 10/29/06 12:14pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/29 - Date Edited: 1/17/07 10:40am (2 edits total) Edited By: reagan64
Ok, now who's up for some intrigue?


“We have to congratulate you on your boarding attempt, Brother. We haven’t seen you display that much initiative in years.”

Lek’Rortan snarled, but did his best to hide it. There were many eyes in the Ungarov High Palace, and it would not do a commander good to be seen disrespecting his monarch.

As Rortan knelt before the Grand Archfather, his eyes scanned the opulent rectangular chamber, assessing the crowd gathered at the sides. Their whispers filled the room from the gilded floor to the high chandeliered roof.

“Your thoughts on this new enemy, Brother? Lek’Galvornka mewed. “They have proven more than equal to your forces thus far.”

Not the equal to your bombast, brother, the Admiral thought.

“Those were only minor skirmishes, Your Majesty. I have not yet brought my full forces down upon their thrust.”

“And why not, Admiral, why not?”

“It would have been presumptive, Your Majesty. I wished to see more of their tactics, as well as seek Your Majesty’s counsel.” The Grand Archfather snorted.

“We expect more from our commanders, Brother. Surely you do not need us to hold your claw?” The assembled courtiers snickered.

We will see whose claw will need to be held in the suns ahead.
“I will endeavor to improve my performance.”

“Oh, we are sure of that Brother. You have proven in the past to be quite capable when properly...motivated.”

If you were one of my soldiers...

The mental baiting continued on for nearly twenty standard minutes. Eventually Rortan was dismissed. Bowing again, he backed until he was a suitable distance away, swishing his cloak as he turned and walked down the grand corridor, flanked by a pair of his family’s Household Guard.

Someday, me refreshingly impotent brother, your time will be up, and a real leader will bring our people into the forefront of galactic hegemony. Only then will the Guard mount the pacing of a grander realm.

Passing through the palace gates, Rortan stopped to observe a platoon of Cenvaxian conscripts perform parade drills, supervised by an Ungarov sergeant. Nearly forty percent of the Ungarov military comprised of such conscripts, so training them was an important task, delegated only to those who had proven themselves in battle. It was fortunate that the Cenvax were so...docile. Several manpower shortages would result if they refused to fight, or even more unlikely, were to rebel.

Rortan passed such mundane thoughts out of his minds as he reached the Lek’Quia Military Spaceport. Presenting his credentials to the guards, he entered his personal shuttle and took off for the journey back to the Lek Destiny.

He took a seat next to his Aide-de-Camp Teeb’Mormek, an officer of distinguished service, who briefed him on the Imperial advance.

“The “Empire” has already established several outposts in our Outer Systems. Probing attacks have encountered stiff resistance. Protoadmiral Nille is standing by with the Third Battle Squadron. He requests permission to attack the stations here,” he gestured to a point on a display console.

“You think he can succeed where Captain Gron failed?”

“I do not know, Lekhib. The enemy has moved several mid-sized capital ships into their new forward positions.”

“The enemy has been too comfortable with inferior numbers for my taste,” Rortan growled. “They took out the Lek Providence easily enough.”

“That was one warship. Lekhib. The Third Battle Squadron has seventeen. All they need is the order.”

Rortan though carefully. If he did not attack with full strength, the enemy would simply advance more, soon striking into the Outer Colonies. However, he did not wish to be made a fool in his brother’s court if an entire battle squadron was to be defeated by what was believed to be a numerically inferior force.

“Give the order for Protoadmiral Nille to make preparations. I want to see if I can locate their lines of supply first. I want every advantage possible.”

“Yes, Lekhib.”

Mormek filed the orders and the rest of the journey was spent in silence. As the shuttle broke the atmosphere, the passengers were treated to a panoramic view of Ungar Prime’s orbit. A disc-shaped battlestation served as a refueling platform for fighters and small corvettes, dozens of the Supremacy’s signature Lek-class battleships hovered in orbit, each nearly a kilometer and a half long. Smaller light cruisers and patrol vessels dotted the ‘sky.’ Even career officers like Rortan and Mormek could not help but stare in awe at the majestic Ungarov fleet. For the cadets seated in the rear of the passenger cabin, it was nothing short of breathtaking. It was good to be an Ungarov.




A throng of men in various uniforms surrounded the bacta tank containing the limp form of Germain Carpus. The prognosis was good, but it would still be some time before he could come out.

Stele watched the wounded pilot gently float up and down, half expecting to see him flash his stupid grim. The veteran of many hard fought battles silently berated himself for getting so distracted in combat-by voices no less! Voices and ‘feelings.’ Stele respected skill and cunning and had no use for superstition, the Secret Order had seen to that.

Saying farewell to his comrade, Stele left the sick bay and turned right down the corridor towards the lift which would take him to his quarters five decks above.

Stele’s thoughts drifted to Admiral Mordon, the man who had rescued him from Bordali agents and had first approached him about the Secret Order. He had had premonitions about his death, could they have been in the form of these senses?

As Stele approached the personnel lift, its doors opened, tearing his attention away from rambling conjectures.

Oh no...

Colonel Tolen, impeccably dressed as always in his well-ironed white uniform, stepped out of the lift with his signature gait.

“Ah, Colonel Stele, back from visiting your pilot, I presume?” the ISB Colonel smirked.

“Yes, sir. The medics expect that he will fully recover.”

“Good to hear,” replied the spook with an air of fake interest. “I just got out of a meeting with Captain Fannin.” he now frowned, the first time Stele had seen him do so. “He has forbidden me from holding a showing of Shuttle Named Desirein the starboard mess hall.”

Stele grimaced at the thought of the COMPNOR propaganda piece about the ‘bliss’ of the Alien Protection Zone on Couruscant, commonly known as Invisec.

“I know, it’s an absolute tragedy,” Tolen replied gravely, mistaking Stele’s discomfort. “Anyway, I figured that Captain Fannin would be more receptive to the idea if a naval officer was to pitch it to him.”

Stele was speechless. He did not want to get involved in Tolen’s games. He was an ISB officer for Empire’s sake, and not a very good one at that. However, even a silly ISB spook was a nosy one, and if Stele upset him, he could run into some trouble.

“Sir, with all due respect, I think you overestimate my influence with the Captain.”

“Nonsense!” the Colonel proclaimed. “You’re a decorated war hero!”

“So is the Captain, sir. He was at Endor.”

“And you defeated the traitor Zaarin!”

“I did what any Imperial officer would have done,” Stele stated, almost as if he didn’t believe it.

“Will you talk to the Captain for me?” Tolen asked coldly. Stele sighed.

“I will do what I can,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Then we have an accord.” The two officers saluted and passed each other by.

Stele took the lift up to the deck containing the quarters for the 45th SOG. He made his way down the long hallway to his quarters. He fell onto his cot after a long hard day and fell fast asleep.

 

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evangelion1 
Registered: Apr '06
Date Posted: 10/30/06 12:52am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/29
this is getting very very interesting keep it up

 
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caustic_acrostic 
Registered: Feb '06
Date Posted: 10/30/06 3:00am Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/29
This is pretty excellent so far. I'm not that great at writing for Imperial pilots, because I'm never quite sure how to portray them, but I think you've pretty much nailed it. Good work!

 

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TnTornado  825 posts
Registered: Jun '06
6421_Mandalorian Seal
Date Posted: 10/31/06 8:01pm Subject: RE: TIE Fighter: Unknown Regions Update 10/29
Good update, can't wait for more,

TnTornado

 

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