Saga Out of the Shadows (An X-Wing-like series following the adventures of the 13th Roving Line - NOT AU)

I have never written anything like this before, and would appreciate any concrit, public or private, regarding this work. The attempt is something reminiscent of Aaron Allston and Michael Stackpole's wonderful X-wing series but with an all original cast. I am going for something as true to canon as possible, (no alternate universe stuff), and would definitely appreciate any advice on how to "clean it up" in a "Starwarsy" way so to speak.

So here it is, without further adieu:

Title: Out of the Shadows
Author: BaconHeadIthorian
Timeframe: .5 ABY right up to the Battle of Hoth
Characters: The pilots of the 13th Roving Line, The pilots of Razor Squadron, Cameo by a certain Mon Calamari Admiral.
Genre: Drama
Summary: It is six months after the Battle of Yavin, one of the Galaxy's most historic moments. Despite the incomprehensible military victory, the Rebel Alliance hangs by a thread. Out for vengeance, the vast Imperial Navy seeks to crush the growing Rebel fleet scattered in small and battered fleets across the galaxy. This is a tale of one such rag-tag fleet, the 13th Roving Line, led by the unusual Ithorian Admiral, Ieheeloonea Gaivee, and the Firrerreo fighter pilot Corvalis Mierdrym as they attempt to escape the vengeful clutches of the Imperial Navy...and a strange new threat gathering at the edges of civilization.
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Out of the Shadows

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Part 1, Chapter 1, Shadow Run (The Evacuation of Yavin IV)

A cheer echoed through the cavernous flight hanger.

The last of the GR-75 Gallofree transports had just broken free from the extensive gravity well generated by the massive gas giant planet known as Yavin. The recently arrived Mon Calamari cruiser had forced a strategically placed Imperial interdictor to retreat, finally breaking through the imperial blockade that had for so long prevented the remaining transports from jumping out of the system carrying the majority of the Rebel Alliance's heaviest equipment, as well as most of the civilian and military command at the besieged base.

The upstart Rebellion had achieved an unlikely victory only six months ago with the destruction of the dreaded Death Star, but amid the celebrations came the realization that, despite their stunning victory, they were still vastly outnumbered and were facing a foe with nearly unlimited resources; an enemy that had a new reason to throw everything they had into the fight - Revenge.

However, even with these advantages, the Empire had been unable to eradicate the persistent Rebel presence on the jungle moon. But with the Imperial blockade in place, a new arrival had appeared on the scene, the newest weapon in the Imperial arsenal, Lord Vader's new flagship, The terrifying battleship Executor.

Amazingly, with their backs to the wall, the Alliance had been able to execute a daring plan to temporarily disable the massive warship. But the time for the final evacuation had come. It was time to find a new home.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Captain Corvalis Mierdrym looked around the vast hangar, feeling the familiar anticipation that always put a spring in his step before any mission. The energy in the hangar was palpable, as T-65 X-wings and their pilots went through preflight checks, and tweetering astromechs were loaded into their sockets. He saluted a young pilot, veritably bursting with excitement as he hopped into his cockpit.

Neezlo, Corvalis thought. That's what they called the young Twi'lek. He smiled, but sighed to himself, Never even flown in an X-wing before.

As he made his way to his ship, he couldn't help remembering that it wasn't that long ago that he had been a green pilot himself, though that time seemed like a different universe entirely. He had learned under fire too, but most of the fr

 

The gas giant known as Yavin glowed blood red in the vacuum of space. It was a roiling mass of storms, a violent conflagration of energy orbiting a cold and distant white dwarf sun. Cresting the terminator of the behemoth, a small brilliant moon sparkled in the light, the gleaming marble, an oasis of life, somehow clinging to existence within the nexus of precise criteria necessary to sustain its verdant ecosystems.

In an equally precarious balance, the temporary residents of the jungle moon had clung desperately to the desperate hopes of freedom and victory. Their assailants were not tidal forces, or radiation, or magnetic storms, but the equally ominous threat of horror and brutality tangibly realized in the dreaded Death Star.

Though pulled and threatened by crushing forces, the rag tag fleet had managed to survive in a hostile environment, eliminating the most immediate threat with one fateful blow, but it was time for these survivors to leave their hideaway world to its own eternal conflict.

So it was that a sparkling mote of light crested the horizon of the jungle moon. It was soon followed by another, and another, until a resolute line of similar lights made their way into the night, a string of diamonds slung around the spinning green moon, launched into the sea of darkness.

As they broke away from the jealous embrace of their former home, the diamonds took on the more mundane forms of dilapidated and much abused freighters. Each ship bore the scars of battle and hard use. Correllian and Gallofree transports strained hard against gravitational forces, overloaded with the last remnants of the Rebel fleet, but though engines and deck plates groaned in protest, the convoy steadfastly plotted a course into an uncertain night, clinging to the fateful hopes of a new dawn.

The harbingers of that dawn, gleaming like chariots in the light of a distant sun, fell into formation around the battered freighters. Next to the bulky craft, the shining new Incom T-65 X-wings appeared even more sleek and deadly, S-foils neatly closed, tucking their quad blasters tightly against each other.

The lead ship in this deadly convoy appeared in form and function as the tip of a deadly lance. Unlike the X-wings, breaking off into pairs assigned to watch over freighters, Captain Corvalis Mierdrym's experimental R-22 Spearhead flew far ahead. Directly behind him flew the much larger and older ARC-170 gunship of Lieutenant Pa-hon Gin. It was a juxtaposition of the modern and the classical melded in a harmony that only the trust of brothers in arms can achieve.

Lieutenant Gin's voice crackled over the comms, breaking the restless silence of the tense procession, "...multi-band scans of the jump vector still negative. No contacts detected from Executor."

Captain Mierdrym instinctively looked to port where no magnification was needed to clearly see the listing monstrosity. Rumored to be Darth Vader's flagship, the massive vessel had nearly cut off any chance for the Rebels to evacuate the Yavin Base. Only the sacrifice of General Jan Dodonna's own son, and the heroism of the unlikely Rebel Han Solo, had allowed the Rebels to temporarily disable the fearsome ship.

Even crippled, the ship represented a very real threat. While they had been forced to focus all resources on keeping the massive vessel from sinking into the destructive gravity well of the gas giant, if they managed to enable their launch systems, the ship had several full wings of TIE fighters available to stop the Rebel escape.

Corvalis replied to his wingman and friend, "Copy Shadow Two. Calculate an intercept algorithm for T plus fifteen originating at X one mark four."

"Confirmed Shadow One. Stand-by"

Though his initial impressions of his little R-22 were positive, Corvalis lamented not having the abilities and security of his trusty R2 unit. R2-Q3 "Queue" would have easily and quickly calculated any query he might have and was invaluable in painting and acquiring potential hostile targets. He shook off the insecurity and reminded himself that Queue was nestled s

 

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?As Ordered,? Lieutenant Chervil replied to Pa-hon Gin?s command to engage the squadron of TIE fighters screaming towards them.

He reached above his head and calmly flipped the switch deploying his s-foils. One of the ?old men? of the squadron, he was a veteran of many battles and was old enough to remember the ravages of the Clone Wars. Less eager to prove himself, he was battle tempered and resolute, the kind of pilot that had led Shadow Squadron to overcome nearly impossible odds in the past. While seeing the Nebulon B frigate jump in, cutting off their escape, had rattled some of the younger pilots, Chervil simply took a deep breath, and fell back on his training. His R4 unit began tweetering as telemetry data was uploaded from Pa-hon Gin?s ARC-170.

He glanced at his monitor as the incoming TIEs? speed and vectors were received, and as they moved into attack position, he smiled.

?Bout time we got this show on the road, he thought grimly. He switched to flight comms and ordered the other three Phantom Flight pilots to break to port in a flanking maneuver. He didn?t have to check his monitor to know that his friend and fellow lieutenant, Lonobabas Sama, was performing a similar maneuver to starboard with his Spectre Flight.

Hopefully we?ll share a tankard of Moenian Ale tonight and compare kills, He thought with a smile.

Chervil?s smile became cold as his R4 screeched out a warning signifying that the TIE Fighters were nearly in range.

?Shadow Twelve, paint the nearest eyeball and switch to proton torpedoes. Eleven, you?re on his wing. Ten, you?re with me.? A series of eager confirmations echoed over the channel, and Chervil casually flicked the switch on his flightstick, arming his own proton torpedoes.

The squadron of incoming TIEs had surprisingly stayed together, heading towards the incoming line of freighters. Behind them, Chervil could just make out the ungainly forms of a single flight of TIE Bombers. Easy pickings for Ghost Flight. Go get ?em Rito, Chervil thought menacingly.

Just then, the Squadron of TIEs broke into two elements, crossing over each other to confuse the X-wing sensors. One group broke off towards Ghost Flight and the other, larger, group came straight at Chervil?s own Phantom Flight.

Chervil immediately called to Shadow Twelve, ?Susto, dump lock. Roll port, and paint the nearest Eyeball?

?Copy Shadow Nine,? came the tense reply.

Rolling with him, the four ship element maintained enough distance from the incoming TIEs to sort out priority targets.

Helping with this task, Pa-hon Gin?s voice over came over the comms, ?Spectre flight priority is the bombers, proceed to three-one-two mark five.?

Chervil noted Lonobabas?s hesitation as he replied, ??Copy Shadow Two?

The order to send the four X-wings of the starboard flanking Spectre Flight after the TIEs bearing down on the bomber hunting Ghost Flight had left Chervil?s own flight to engage more than half a squadron of TIEs. This wouldn?t have been such a daunting task if he didn?t have two relatively untested pilots flying with him. Only his wingman, the Wookiee Matorullk, had logged any significant combat time.

A veteran of the Clone Wars, Matorullk had joined the Alliance after the death of his father at the hands of an Imperial prison warden. His rage had been fatally redirected to countless TIE pilots, but the grim satisfaction of destruction had done little to assuage the guilt and loss he still felt.

We?ll all have time for grief after the war. If we live that long. Chervil thought. And we?ll all find the blood of too many on our hands no doubt. Chervil couldn?t help adding in his thoughts.

Shaking off his momentary thoughts as a dangerous distraction, he focused on the situation at hand. Susto, a young hotshot Correllian pilot, flew less than ten meters off the starboard bow. Right behind him, covering him, was the even younger Tatooine native, Chif.

These two had always excelled in simulators,

 

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Demise of the Indomitable - BHI



Corvalis smiled fiercely in the cockpit of his R-22. Having heard the battle with the TIEs over comms, he felt a strong sense of pride in the superior performance of his squadron. He looked up at the ungainly looking Nebulon B frigate before him, growing ever larger in his sights, and thought, Now it?s my turn?better not let the boys down now.

Looking at his scanners, he saw that the X-wings (and Pa-hon?s Arc-170) were fanning out far behind him, preparing for the assault.

The Nebulon B was an awkward looking ship, but Corvalis knew that looks could be deceiving. Though it was not large, it had the capacity to carry up to two squadrons of starfighters. The fact that it had launched just over one squadron, the one Shadow Squadron had already decimated, and had not launched any further TIEs, led Corvalis to believe that it had already spent its complement of fighters, but he had to be aware of the possibility of fighter reserves.

The Indomitable was still an impressive warship without fighters however, sporting twelve Taim and Bak XI turbolasers as well as an equal number of Borstel RH8 anti-starfighter laser cannons. She was built to excel in ship to ship combat as well as in an anti-starfighter roll. Clearly his lone A-wing was hardly a match for this vessel. Corvalis though, had no intention of attacking.

Instead, he manually entered in the distance and closing rates of the rest of the squadron into his flight computer, wishing again that his R2 unit Queue was with him. Broadcasting on the squadron channel, he said simply, ?Alright Shadows, I?ll turn out the lights, and we?re all going in dumb.?

?You?re telling me.? Pa-hon quipped on a private channel.

As his flight computer warned him that he had entered the extreme range of the frigate?s turbolasers, Corvalis went evasive. He rolled his ship slightly on all three axes, closing the distance in an unpredictable manner. The turbolasers, packing a huge punch, lacked the ability to train on such a small and maneuverable target. As such, he would have to be very unlucky to be hit from this range.

Taking a deep breath as he closed, Corvalis hoped he had a surplus of luck to rely upon. The far more accurate anti-starfighter laser cannons represented a more pressing concern. As he streaked in, the fast repeating borstels opened up on him, virtually filling the vacuum with argent lances of destructive energy.

Twisting and rolling with greater intensity, Corvalis reached down and flipped on the experimental sensor jamming equipment that had been installed on his little ship. He noticed a momentary pause in the intensity of fire erupting from the frigate and used it to kick in his boosters and accelerate to point blank range.

Skimming over the dull grey ablative armor of the great ship, he spared a glance at his sensors, noting that they too were confused by his own jamming. Broadband EM radiation was being generated and transmitted on nearly all frequencies, blinding most standard sensor locks.

Unfortunately, this action also virtually blinded Corvalis, and he had to rely completely on visuals to dart his little ship around the frustrated frigate like an angry Corellian blood bee.

The frigate?s guns, temporarily quieted by the initial sensor jamming, had opened up again, though Corvalis noted, with much less accuracy. He sighed and thought, Little good that?s gonna do me if I hang around here too long. The energy needed to power his jammer severely strained his ship?s reactor, and he had already dumped all of his shield and weapon?s power into his engines. One of these guys is bound to get a lucky shot in and then?

He didn?t stop to finish his thought; instead, he rocketed under the long spar connecting the prow of the large ship to its powerful drive section. As he did so an alarm rang out from his flight computer. Exhaling powerfully, he pulled back on the stick, looping up over the frigate, into its most concentrated kill

 

Chapter 2

Corvalis went over the data for the next leg of their journey again as the eerily swirling blue-white light of hyperspace rolled by. They were less than an hour into their jump, but they would only be in hyperspace for another forty minutes by his calculations.

The majority of the fleet, Shadow Squadron included, was headed to the hastily deployed and temporary secret base on the outer rim planet of Thila. Though Thila was located in the Xappyh sector, rimward from Yavin, Shadow Squadron and their freighters had jumped toward the core to throw off any imperial pursuit. They would alter course near the Taanab system, and make several more jumps rimward before reaching their destination. It would be a long flight cooped up in the snug cockpit of an R-22.

Confident in the calculations and tired of going over them in his head, Corvalis took a moment to listen in to the distorted tightbeam chatter of his pilots.

??I?m serious Raynard. That Chevin back on Da Soocha V was male!? Corvalis recognized the laughing voice of Shadow Three, a good natured Talusian pilot named Totinirl who had been with the squadron since their initial training at Dantooine.

?No kriffing way!? came the vehement retort from Aric Raynard, who?s Coruscanti accent was more common among Imperial circles - a fact that his fellow squadron mates often teased him about.

Shadow Squadron?s only other Coruscanti pilot, Lieutenant John Shaden jumped in next, ?I don?t think I want to know how you tell the difference, Tot.?

Corvalis heard several pilots laugh at this, and resisted the urge to comment himself. It was good for morale for the men to joke with each other in this way, and though it was in his nature to join them, the admiral had taught him the importance of letting the junior officers form bonds with each other. He respected and cared for every member of his squadron, and considered many to be close friends, but it was important that, at least in this environment, he was their Commanding Officer first. To perform in that function required a certain level of detachment.

Detachment was something at which Corvalis Mierdrym was quite good.

It hadn?t always been that way. Looking out of his A-wing?s clear canopy into the rolling blue waves of hyperspace, Corvalis remembered the crystal blue waters of his family?s summer retreat home. He remembered the joy of riding the waves on his Durmonte Hydro Board, racing giant thrantas and performing acrobatic leaps in order to impress the society girls sunbathing on the pink sand beaches of the mirrormere.

He shook his head, attempting to eradicate the memory. That was a time of luxury, a time of irresponsibility, a time before the war came and took it all away. We were soft. I was soft. Our comfort cost us everything.

Few knew much about Corvalis? past. It was evident to most humans that he was different. A native of the planet Firrerre, he resembled humans in nearly every way except for his long silver hair and the opaque nictating membrane that occasionally blinked horizontally across his nearly opalescent blue-grey eyes.

Though the Firrereo were thought to be a genetic offshoot of human settlers, the evolutionary changes were enough for the xenophobic Galactic Empire to officially label them ?non-human,? a label under which the proud people of Firrerre chafed.

The clan-based government of Firrerre had, since the formation of the Empire, sought equal standing with human populated core worlds, and had loudly and vehemently protested the Empire?s oppressive designations upon them. This need for acceptance led one of their own, Lord Hethrir, to go as far as to apprentice himself to the evil Darth Vader. His willingness to serve Vader and the Emperor led to him being awarded the incredibly powerful position of Imperial Procurator of Justice. Essentially, he became the Emperor?s chief executioner.

Far from being the stepping stone to a greater acceptance in the Empire as many Firrerreo believed, Darth Vader ordered Lord Hethrir to prove his loyalty to the Emperor and to rise above his

 

Smiling grimly, Corvalis growled, ?I am Mierdrym. I am Firrerreo?

?What was that Shadow Lead?? Pa-hon Gin said over the comms.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Corvalis recovered saying, ?Er?nothing. Sorry Gin, must have thumbed the comm switch on accident.?

?Let?s hope you don?t hit anything else on accident, Lead,? came the dry reply.

Corvalis heard several chuckles from the other pilots before Pa-hon clicked in on a private channel. ?You okay over there??

?Yeah, just thinking of home.?

?Hyperspace?ll do that to you.?

Corvalis nodded to himself before asking, ?Hey Gin, did you ever think about going home? I mean before the Admiral came to us, back when you were running the cantina??

?Sure kid, plenty of times.? There was a pause before he continued, ?There just wasn?t much to go home to. Thera had gotten married to some Imperial Officer, my parents were gone, the friends I had on the Vigilant and back on Carida were spread all over the galaxy.?

Corvalis looked out into the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace as Pa-hon continued, ?I guess I just figured I had a better chance of making my own go of things for once.?

Smiling, Corvalis said, ?You always did make a mean Solorian Slammer.?

Pa-hon chuckled, ?Yeah, the cantina was a good investment, but you know I always wanted a job where I could play sabaac all day without having the house come after me.?

?Yeah kinda helps when you are the house.?

?You know, I wonder if that scoundrel Winari has run it into the ground yet??Corvalis laughed, ?You know she's as slimy as a Hutt's hookah.?

?Yeah, well Winari?s got no love for the Empire at least."

Corvalis replied, ?Well, I?m just glad the Admiral convinced you into this little saving the galaxy side-job. It?d be a real shame to have to do this all on my own.?

Pa-hon scoffed, ?The Admiral? No. I have you to blame for draggin? me into this. Remind me to settle up with you soon huh??

?Yeah I?ll get right on that.? Corvalis laughed.

He heard Pa-hon?s comms click as if he were going to retort, but instead heard what he recognized as frantic chirps from Queue.

?Pa-hon, what is it??

?Shadow Two, respond.?

?Standby, Lead.? Came Pa-hon?s unusually tense reply. A second later he said emphatically, ?We have an uncharted mass shadow showing up ahead.?

?What!?? Corvalis checked his own hyperspace sensors but detected nothing to indicate an approaching mass shadow. ?We are parsecs away from the Roche Asteroids?you don?t think??

Before he could finish the question, an alarm blared in his cockpit and the automatic safety on his hyperdrive cut in. His little ship burst through an incandescent white wall into a star-filled void.

And right into a massive fire fight.

Corvalis immediately pulled back hard on the stick and kicked his sublights to maximum power as an explosion rocked his little ship from above. He clicked on the comms and yelled, ?Shadows, jump safe epsilon!? He knew that Pa-hon would break in the proper direction with him, leaving room for the rest of Shadow Squadron and the freighters to jump in system without collisions.

?Lock S-foils in attack position,? Pa-hon commanded, as the rest of the squadron jumped in successfully.

?Shadow Two, get me IDs on those ships.? Corvalis added immediately. He didn?t need any sensors however to know that the large ship in the distance was one of the Empire?s newest and most effective weapons, an interdictor cruiser.

?Copy Shadow One.? Only seconds later Pa-hon elaborated, ?We have the Corvette Argent along with what looks to be?about half of Vortex and Crimson squadrons. Argent has taken damage. Other than the interdictor, Imperial forces stand at four YE-4 gunships, six VT-49 patrol craft, five squadrons of TIEs, and?? Pa-hon paused for verification, ?Yes, two Lancer-class frigates.?

?Is that all?? came the sarcastic reply from Shaden?s Shadow Four.

Lancer-class frigates were new and exceedingly rare. They were the Empire?s answer to the snubfighter threat exposed by the destruction of the Death Star. The 250-meter long ships were studded w

 

Corvalis reflexively pulled the trigger at the on-coming wave of TIEs. Without a solid lock, he watched the small ships part, some spitting emerald fire at him as they rocketed by both sides of his tiny ship. His yellow plumed missile spun harmlessly off into space.

"Sithspawn!" he spat as he realized the extent of their dilemma. While he had been attempting to get to the beleaguered Correllian Corvette, they had been overtaken by a full squadron of TIE Interceptor starships supplemented by another full squadron of TIE/ln.

The deadly TIE Interceptors were the mass produced successors to Darth Vader's TIE X-1 prototype that fought in the battle of Yavin several months earlier. They featured the twin ion engines that gave TIE craft their name as well as the distinctive dual solar panels, though these were bent at an angle, wrapping partially around the ball shaped cockpit, reducing the profile of the ship and giving the ship its Rebel nickname - Squint. In addition, these dagger shaped panels were tipped by four powerful blasters reminiscent of the X-wing's destructive power and spread of fire. Though they still lacked defensive shields or a hyperdrive, the end result was a well armed, incredibly fast and maneuverable starship capable of out-performing nearly every ship on the battle field, all except one.

"Ghost flight on me!" Corvalis ordered as he cleaved through the wave of enemy ships.

"As ordered Lead," came the calm reply of Captain Rito, a veteran pilot from Tanaab.

Three X-wings followed Corvalis through the mixed cloud of TIE Fighters, quickly followed by Pa-hon Gin's Arc-170 and Shadow Squadron's nine additional X-wings. With the rest of his squadron unable outrun the TIE/ln let alone the TIE Interceptors, Corvalis ordered his squadron to engage, breaking into two ship flight elements.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pa-hon Gin confirmed the order to engage and flew in a wide arc around the ever growing and chaotic mass of spinning ships and streaking blasts of crimson and green. With him was Flight Officer Raynard's X-wing, tasked with covering the larger ship.

Over fleet comms, Pa-hon heard the panic stricken voices of several freighter captains. Many of the larger ships had been pulled out of hyperspace closer to the imperial forces, and were coming within range of the Lancer frigates and VT-49 Decimators.

While some were heavily modified with non-standard shields and weapons, most fared poorly against the well armed and disciplined military craft. He winced as he heard the cries of the crew from the YKL-Nova courier Morning Star as it was ripped out of hyperspace so close to an Imperial VT-49 Decimator that the two comparable sized ships collided. In the background, he heard the terrible sounds of ripping metal and collapsing bulkheads, followed by ominous static.

Immediately, the distinctive stereophonic voice from the Captain of the YT-1300, Manollium Flame, ordered the remaining freighters to fall in on his position.

Pa-hon switched to internal comms only and ordered his co-pilot and communication officer to establish contact with the Argent and bring them back into the fight. He noticed the third member of his crew, the dedicated gunner, spitting shots at any TIE that swung too close to the big fighter's stern.

 

This is a story after my own heart.

Excellent job so far. The battle scenes are wonderfully written and easy to visualize, and I'm really impressed with your descriptions in general, both about the fights and about the surroundings and the situations.

I also really like how so many of your main characters are nonhumans (no offense to Corvalis!). It helps show the diversity of the Alliance and the galaxy itself.

Corvalis and Gin have fascinating backgrounds, and I'm looking forward to learning more about them. You've got some really interesting characters here, and I love their banter.


ego to capacitor shunt

That is just awesome. LOL.

Keep up the great work!

-Thumper

 

Thank you Thumper. I am really enjoying it. It's a labor of love. This story started out as a collection of short stories illustrating the actions of my squadron on the game Star Wars Galaxies from 2004-2007, but it's become something that I hope will eventually be a more cohesive story. Almost all the characters in the story are based on my friends in game. Likewise, all those that unfortunately die in the story (and many will ) are also friends who have left the game.

 

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Pulling back gently on the flight stick and slamming into the ethereal rudder, Lonobabas Sama barrel-rolled over and around his wingman, Flight Officer Totinirl. His targeting computer illuminated the lead TIE Fighter in green, and he pulled the trigger, engulfing the ship in a hail of crimson death. The TIE's ion engines detonated and the two Shadows streaked through the explosion, both firing at a flight of four TIE Interceptors screaming in head-to-head.

Energy sparked off of Totinirl's front shields, and his R4 unit screamed a warning indicating that the shields had collapsed. Growling in anger, the Talusian pilot held on the trigger, side-slipping left and right as the distance closed fast. Red lasers ripped off a TIE Interceptor's solar wing and the helpless ship spun off uncontrollably before detonating. Another of his shots shaved the top half off of a ball cockpit, sending it careening into a devastating barrage from Lonobabas' weapons.

Unfortunately, in the split second that it took to destroy the two TIE Interceptors, shots from the two remaining inbound ships struck Totinirl's upper starboard stabilizer. The unshielded S-foil melted and buckled, ripping off the fuselage and sending the ship into an uncontrolled spin.

Lonobabas, noting his wingman's plight, yelled into the comms, "You can't hold it Tot, punch out!"

He heard no response from his friend, and dread gripped his heart like a fist. The spin is too much for the inertial compensators. He's blacked out!

Rolling his ship up on the port stabilizers, he arced back towards the two TIE Interceptors, just in time to see one of them impale Totinirl's helpless X-wing on four stakes of green light. He yelled out in rage as his friend's ship expanded unnaturally, before exploding in a hail of micro-particles.

He angrily jammed the controls over to proton torpedoes, and instantly achieved a solid tone on the offending squint. He punched the controls and snarled as a blue streak rocketed towards the Interceptor.

The Imperial pilot, obviously examining the handiwork of his own kill, was slow to respond to the oncoming missile. It caught him at the wing root, blowing his solar array off one direction and sending the larger part of his craft jolting with unnatural speed in the opposite direction...directly into...and through...his wingman's unfortunate ship. Both craft detonated with a massive blast that paled compared to the ferocity of Lonobabas's rage.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Ensigns Susto Asos and Rhen "Chif" Chiffero, glanced at each other as they heard the distorted voice of Pa-hon Gin over the comms somberly declare, "Three is down."

Flying in tight formation they overlapped their shields as they lined up shots at five spinning TIEs in front of them.

"Target the one to port, Chif," Susto said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the wave of fear Tot's death had spilled over him.

"As ordered," Chif replied. His voice noticeably shaky. When they were in range, their combined blaster fire engulfed the unfortunate TIE as the others broke in several directions.

"Stay on me." Susto ordered, as he attempted to chase down an Interceptor.

He groaned in frustration as the elusive ship pulled away from him, outpacing him as he lobbed a few optimistic shots in its wake.

"Two on our six!" Chif exclaimed loudly.

Susto swore violently and broke off his pursuit, pulling back on the throttle and banking sharply. Chif followed his move closely.

Looking at his scanners Susto called, "Nine, Ten, a little help!?"

"Bring it around to two seven mark three." Came the calm reply of Nine.

Leveling out slightly, he felt two explosions behind him and heard a victorious Wookiee roar!

"Thanks guys, that's two we owe you!" Susto said to Chervil and Matorullk.

"We'll collect on that right now Twelve. We've got problems here."

Swinging back arou

 

Corvalis flew through the explosion of another TIE Interceptor, checking his threat indicators for the closest target. Kicking up his throttle, he rocketed forward, catching up with the next interceptor as it moved in behind Captain Rito?s X-wing.

?Drag him Rito. I can catch him.? The novaldex engines of the R-22 hummed as Corvalis opened up the throttle.

?Affirmative, Lead.? The older pilot replied calmly, switching deflectors to double rear.

The squint opened up on him, and he jinked left and right slightly, throwing off the TIE's aim enough to frustrate but tantalize. A few shots managed to hit, but were absorbed by the sturdy X-wing?s shields.

The TIE pilot, focusing intently on killing the infuriating X-wing, didn?t notice until he pulled the trigger and his guns refused to fire that something was wrong. By that time, he didn?t need the blazing alarm to tell him, as he saw both of his wings spinning off in opposite directions. The ship that had removed them screamed past him barely two meters above his top hatch, and he had time to get a good look at the new craft before spinning helplessly off into space.

?You?re all clear, Four.? Corvalis called.

The two pulled around to head back into the fray when they saw a blinding flash as yet another freighter detonated under the assault of a Lancer Frigate.

?Shadows, form up!? Corvalis called. ?We have to get to that interdictor.?

?And leave the freighters?? Susto questioned.

?Unless we get that cruiser we?re all dead. It?s just a matter of time.? Pa-hon replied.

Shadow Seven, the Thyferran named Ristari, protested, ?There?s no way we can get there through all of this! We might as well die here.?

?Stow it Ristari!? Lonobabas growled, but his comment was drowned out by a calm but authoritative voice.

?Affirmed Shadow Squadron.? Came the reply from The Manollium Flame. ?When the darkness is deepest, the light is clear.?

After a confused pause, Seven was the one to say it, ?What the hell is that supposed??

Pa-hon Gin?s voice cut off Ristari as they all saw new blue dots appear on their scanners past the imperial scrimmage line, close to the interdictor cruiser. ?Lancer Squadron is in. Moving on the cruiser.?

?Yeah! the cavalry?s here!? exclaimed Susto.

Neezlo sighed, ?I never thought I?d be so happy to see a bunch of fat nerfs? he said, referring to the squadron of venerable but well armed Y-wings setting up for an uncontested bombing run on the interdictor cruiser.

?Just in time too!? he added as scanners showed two more squadrons of TIE Interceptors and TIE/lns rocketing towards Shadow Squadron. ?We?ve got more company.?

Pa-hon?s voice once again resonated over the comms. ?We have additional TIEs. Unknown configuration. Moving towards Lancer squadron.?

?Sithspawn! Where did they come from?? the Coruscanti pilot, John Shaden swore.

?They jumped in. Looks like we have a squadron of modified TIE Interceptors. They're gaining fast on the Lancers.?

For a moment there was silence as that information was processed. According to alliance intelligence there were many prototype TIE models created in small numbers for high ranking imperial pilots and officials like Darth Vader. The ships were almost all small and agile with nominal shields and rudimentary hyperdrive systems but generally lacked the speed of the standard TIE Interceptor or even the TIE/ln. Whatever these starfighters were, they were no doubt more than a match for any Y-wing squadron though. And the Shadows would have to get through two more squadrons of standard TIEs before they could even attempt to help the Y-wings.

Grimly, Corvalis ordered, ?Form up Shadows! Let?s do what we can.?

?Maybe we could help, Shadow One?? Came an unknown voice.

?Who is this? Declare yourself.?

?Sorry Shadow One, no time for long introductions. Captain Tannen Bochry, formerly Crimson Five, currently commanding The RAS Argent.

?Corvette moving into attack position!? Pa-hon exclaimed enthusiastically.

As if answering Pa-hon, the large form of a Corellian Corvette roared over them, barely meters from Cor

 

Chapter 3

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/ships/argent1.jpg]

RAS Argent - Fernando Pires



The Corellian Corvette's massive drive block was blinding as it passed so close overhead. Corvalis' little A-wing was buffeted slightly by the ionic stream pouring out of the ship's eleven large engines as it roared into a swarm of TIEs at flank speed.

The Firrerreo commander jolted his throttle forward, quickly overtaking the Argent, and he led his squadron through the gap that the Corellian ship had opened. Streaking forward, Shadow Squadron dumped all their energy into their engines in an attempt to reach the Y-wings of Lancer Squadron before they were overtaken by the much faster TIEs.

Corvalis judged the distance and grimaced. His A-wing, by far the fastest ship in the little fleet, was the only vessel capable of reaching them in time. Even he knew that engaging a squadron of veteran pilots alone was a suicide mission.

"Don't think about it, Lead." Came the warning voice of Pa-hon Gin, "That's no Nebulon B."

"Those bombers have to hit that interdictor or we all die here Gin. You know that."

On a whim, Corvalis switched over to concussion missiles. Calling to Pa-hon, he said, "Can you get me a long range, tight beam laser lock on the trailing TIE?"

"Affirmative, but you're not going to hit anything..."

Not listening Corvalis barked, "Good, do it now!"

"Confirmed, target acquired, uploading telemetry..."

Before he even finished the comment, Corvalis pressed the trigger, watching a bright yellow trail marking a concussion missile streaking off towards the swarm.

"That oughta get your attention", Corvalis growled.

As if in response, the squadron of TIEs crossed each other, breaking into two elements...both of them continuing their turn as the concussion missiles spun harmlessly off into the void.

Incredulously, Susto said, "Here they come!"


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"I can't believe we're actually doing this Captain!" a young man in a red Alliance Flight suit protested as he slipped into a co-pilot station on the bridge of the Corellian Corvette Argent.

Gritting his teeth, and keeping his gaze locked on the swarm of TIEs bearing down on him out of the large viewport in front of them both, an equally youthful looking, sandy-haired pilot in an identical flight suit growled, "Just shut up and get someone to lock down that plasma leak down on four! We can't afford to lose the port side shield generator!"

The new co-pilot spun around and ordered one of the bridge crew to get below to lock down the leak, feeling strange issuing orders to a man several years his senior, an officer in fleet command no less. Surprisingly however, the older man snapped a salute and took off down the gleaming white hallway, gathering a crew to work the problem.

Icav spun back, a wry grin on his face, saying, "Hey, I could get used to this."

"You aren't gonna get used to anything if you we don't get these fighters off of us!" Growled the defacto captain of the Corellian ship.

Icav punched the comms and barked, "Crimson, Vortex, fall in and engage these fighters! We're taking a beating here!" As if to emphasize the point, the large ship rocked as several TIEs made a strafing run against its already damaged port side.

Through the typical distortion of Alliance comms, Icav recognized the voice of his friend Joryk. "Icav, is that you!?"

Punching the comms the captain of the Corvette replied, "Affirmative, Seven. The Argent is back in business." He laughed as if he was playing a game before continuing, "Crimson and Vortex, fall in now!"

"As ordered Five...I mean Argent...Whatever! We're on our way Tannen!" Came the enthusiastic reply. The two pilots on their commandeered corvette glanced at each other for a moment, and smiled.

"Now we have a fight!" growled Tannen Bochry.

 

"Eight, you've got one on your tail!"

"I got him!"

"Get him Six!"

"Sithspawn! I had him, but I lost him!"

"Where's Twelve?"

"Tighten it up Shadows" Corvalis said, as he lined up a TIE Advanced X2 that was bearing down on an evasive X-wing. He waited for a lock, and pulled the trigger, watching a succession of bright red streaks lance through the shields of the Imperial craft, flaming out the ion engines and sending the bent-winged ship tumbling out of the fight.

"Twelve you're cl..." He had no time to finish however, as flash of green lanced overhead. He pulled a snap roll, and yanked his agile craft into an impossibly tight dive relative to his attacker. The force of the maneuver was too much for the inertial compensators and he noticed his peripheral vision becoming cloudy as his blood rushed to his feet.

Grimacing as he came out of the loop, he noticed the two TIEs had disengaged and gone after two X-wings lining up behind one of their wingmen.

These guys are good, Corvalis thought as he called out, "Four, you have two on your six. Get out of there Rito!"

Corvalis kicked his engines forward, hoping to catch up to the TIEs chasing his friends, but even the A-wing's superb speed wasn't enough.

Over the comms he heard, "I can't shake them! This is Four requ..." Static.

"Four is down", came Pa-hon's strained reply, the sound of his gunners frantically calling out targets in the background.

"I'm all alone Commander!" The young pilot named Irving called.

A Wookiee roar sounded as Shadow Twelve swept in behind the two TIEs ahead of Corvalis. A barrage of fire sent the two Imperial ships darting up and to port, evading both the snarling Wookiee and the persistent blaster fire.

"Bring it back around Six", Corvalis called to Irving. "Form up on Mato."

The X-wing continued on a ballistic course out of the engagement.

"Six respond! Irving?!"

"Gin can you get to Six? He might be incapacitated."

"I little busy here lead!" Pa-hon growled, evidently in the thick of the fight.

Sparing one last look at the runaway X-wing, Corvalis slammed his fist down on the console, before pulling back on the throttle and fiercely ripping the ship around and bearing down on the nearest TIE.

 

Chapter 4

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/Out%20of%20the%20Shadows/lamb1.jpg]

A single Lambda-class shuttle floated in the endless black of deep space escorted by two hyperspace capable TIE Interceptors. A dark clad figure stood behind the stone-faced pilot and co-pilot of the ship, gazing out of the large viewport at the raging battle so far away. From this distance, well outside the interdictor cruiser's artificial gravity well, the battle appeared like a Coruscanti fireworks display, twinkling lights of crimson and green, accompanied by bright yellow and orange flashes.

The dark passenger knew that each silent explosion represented the end of a life. He could feel the inevitable spike of terror as pilots' realized their fate the instant before death, and he reveled in the finality of each glowing ember in the force being extinguished. It was...pleasing to him to feel the passions and hopes of each being, friend and foe alike, being snuffed out like so many candles.

He thought of the endless candles illuminating the old temple of his youth. How he had yearned to blow them out one by one. The elders had told him that the flames represented the life force of all the beings of the galaxy. They could cause pain and burn the careless if not nurtured and protected, but together they were the light of the galaxy.

Clenching a black gloved fist, he thought menacingly, If only the light of the entire galaxy had but one wick.

Despite the rage welling inside of him, he remained outwardly impassive, fully in control of his feelings. He cared not for the outcome of this battle. The conflict had already served its purpose. It would be a shame to lose some of the Empire's finest pilots, but pilots were always expendable.

As if reaffirming his belief, he noted another flash, and felt the demise of one of the stronger Imperial pilots. A shame, but ultimately it was but a deepening of the comforting darkness. He continued to watch the beautiful display.

 

The TIE exploded in a blast of superheated gas as the twin ion engines were pierced by the A-wing's well-placed shot. In the cockpit of his small ship, Corvalis blinked at the massive explosion and continued through it, particles of molten debris flashing off his shields.

He let out his breath, That one was good, but not good enough. Checking his scanners though, he saw that they were still in trouble. Though they were doing their job in buying the Lancer Squadron Y-wings time, and handing losses to the TIEs in the process, the more agile craft were likely to wear his pilots down to the breaking point. These were no rookies they were engaged with, and Corvalis knew that even if the Y-wings did the job, they'd be lucky to get out of the fight without anymore losses.

His fears were quickly realized when he heard the sound of Shadow Two's voice, "We've lost Seven."

"He's just...gone." Susto said, "Raynard was right behind me..."

Corvalis didn't have time to worry about the loss of the Coruscanti pilot, as a particularly tenacious TIE was bearing down on him. He jinked his little ship back and forth as emerald bolts beamed past him.

He banked sharply, and flew through the ion stream of another TIE, passing mere meters behind it. He snarled with satisfaction as one blaster of his pursuer pierced the solar wing of the TIE he passed. Though it wasn't destroyed, on his scanners, he noticed it moving out of the fight on an escape vector.

Through the twisting and rolling storm of fighters the two flew. Corvalis darted in and out from between TIE and X-wing alike, taking shots of opportunity when possible, but never quite able to shake his dogged pursuer. His opponent had position on him, and apparently also had the rare skill to stay with him. Knowing that all of his pilots were locked in mortal combat themselves, he knew it was only a matter of time before his skilled opponent managed the shot that would end him.

Before he could resign himself to his demise however, a TIE exploded in front of him. Turning his head to port, Corvalis grinned broadly as he saw a battered YT-1300 freighter come roaring out of the glowing backdrop of distant and burning wreckage. The Corellian ship was not alone however, as the light from the conflagrations was soon eclipsed by the dark and powerful form of the Corellian Corvette Argent in hot pursuit. The two Corellian ships, followed by several freighters in their wake, cut a swath through the hornet's nest of fighters like a scythe through tallgrass.

TIEs broke off their engagement and veered away, attempting to escape the blazing blaster cannons of the large vessels.

A bright blue flash demanded the attention of Imperial and Rebel alike, and Corvalis twisted to starboard to see the staggered impact of proton torpedo salvos on the hull of the distant Interdictor cruiser. The cruiser, taking a beating from the Y-wings, was forced to shut down its gravity well generators in order to engage its primary sublight engines in an attempt to escape the well armed Lancer squadron bombers.

Over the fleetwide comms Corvalis heard the eerie stereophonic voice he knew so well, "All units, the way is clear. Jump to light speed immediately."

Corvalis engaged his flight computer, and twisted his little ship around to flank the larger ships, making sure that all enemies were indeed retreating. "As ordered Admiral" he said relief evident in his voice. "It sure is good to see the Manollium Flame." He added, looking over to the cockpit of the old freighter.

A tone sounded, and he looked down to see the flight computer count down, "5...4...3..."

"Into the light, Shadows." He said softly.

"2...1..."

The countless stars elongated to embrace them all, and with a flash, they were gone.

 

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/Out%20of%20the%20Shadows/lambdacp1.jpg]

The dark figure surveyed the battlefield from the distant shuttle, not needing to look at the scanners to know the dire state of the remaining Imperial forces. The large cruiser, blasted by the Y-wing squadron, was venting atmosphere in multiple locations. He could feel panic...death. Though the interdictor was barely space-worthy, it was in far better shape than most of the vessels it limped closer to.

The battlefield was littered with still burning wreckage as two heavily damaged VT-49s attempted to dock with the cold and dark hulk of the remaining Lancer frigate. A few TIE Fighters and TIE Interceptors remained, all of them hovering at a safe distance from the larger ships, as if they expected them to explode at any moment. Half of the TIE Advanced squadron remained, though half again of that number were damaged.

The shuttle pilot half-turned slowly, as if gathering his courage to speak. When he found his voice, it was the clipped accent of the Coruscanti elite. "My Lord, shall we prepare a rescue task force? Most of our remaining forces lack hyperdrive capabilities"

Cold mechanical eyes bore down on the pilot, causing the man to sink in his chair as the sound of methodical raspy breathing filled the cockpit, "The strong will survive. The weak will perish. That is the way of things. That is the way of the force."

With that, the cloaked figure turned and disappeared into the darkness of the main corridor, leaving the pilot and co-pilot in stark silence.

"I suspect that's a no." The co-pilot dared to speak.

Glancing nervously at each other, both reached out and quickly pulled the levers sending the shuttle into hyperspace, leaving their comrades to decide who succumbed to the cold and uncaring darkness of space.

 

Wow, great battle there! It's sad to see so many of the Shadows destroyed, but it really showed the severity of the situation they were in with the Interdictor.

I wonder what purpose the fight served for Vader. It must be something big for the Imperials to have put so many people and resources into it.

Again, great job! I'm looking forward to more.

 

Thanks Thumper! It's been fun, and there's much more coming. It was sad to kill off so many characters...so many who were actually friends in the game Star Wars Galaxies, but I think it does lend an air of vulnerability to the characters. Afterall, being a fighter pilot was dangerous business. I wanted to show that straight away. Not many live to a ripe old age in that line of work.

 

Chapter 5

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/Out%20of%20the%20Shadows/MC80.jpg]

The Star Tide



It had been many hours since the harrowing escape from Yavin IV. The pilots of Shadow Squadron, the remains of Crimson and Vortex Squadrons, the Corellian Corvette Argent, and some of the remaining freighters, had made several jumps along different vectors to throw off potential pursuit by their enemies. Though, after the last fight, it was almost inconceivable that any Imperial forces would offer much chase.

Through improvisation and temerity, they had delivered a heavy blow to the Imperial forces lying in ambush, one that their enemies would not soon forget, but they had taken heavy losses themselves - losses that were likely to be deemed "acceptable" to the Alliance Command, but losses that Commander Corvalis Mierdrym felt were anything but.

The Firrereo pilot stared aimlessly into the unending swirl of hyperspace with the superb view his little A-wing starfighter offered him. He had replayed the battle a hundred times in his mind, each time focusing on the loss of one of his men. He had been flying for a long time now, but he had never gotten used to the dramatic shock of losing pilots under his command. Even though they knew the odds were against them all surviving in their line of work, none of them were ever ready for friends to be so abruptly taken from them.

Falgram Rito, Jaak Irving, Aric Raynard, Gravan Totinirl - all of them had been with Shadow Squadron since its formation. They had been through many battles together. They had laughed, cried, and - survived - together. Now, in but a few minutes of action, they were all dead. Corvalis didn't think about the requisition orders for new fighters he'd have to place, the myriad reports he'd have to compose, the letters of regret he'd have to write to families.

Sitting alone in his small fighter, hurtling through the galaxy, Corvalis Mierdrym wondered if they could ever make the Empire pay enough to erase the debt of blood it owed.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Tannen Bochry remained seated at the helm station that had become the captain's chair of the Corellian Corvette Argent. Looking over at the seat next to him, he saw his friend and co-pilot, Icav Ribe, reclined and fast asleep in his chair. Tannen smiled to himself. He envied his friend, who had the uncanny ability to sleep anywhere, under any circumstance. Tannen had gotten no rest during the long transit. They had both been busy coordinating repair work on the damaged corvette, as well as securing the cowardly Captain Ruud in the makeshift brig. It had yet to be determined whether the Captain's failure to engage in battle had been an act of treason or cowardice. Either way, it was apparent to Tannen that his crew had long ago lost faith in him.

It certainly explains why they were so willing to help two junior starfighter pilots take over their own ship, He thought with a wry grin.

He still couldn't believe what the two of them had accomplished. And he wasn't yet sure what the ramifications of their actions would be. They had disobeyed a direct order from their superior officer in Crimson Squadron (who had subsiquently died in the battle), chased down and docked with a corvette in an unauthorized and highly dangerous manner, proceeded to act with the corvette's own crew to storm the bridge and remove a duly acknowledged Alliance Captain of his command at blaster point. Finally, they had assumed an unqualified command of the same vessel, piloting it manually into combat, eschewing all rules of procedure and engagement and placing the entire crew in eminent danger, only to be saved at the last moment by the very admiral who would most likely be presiding over their own court martial.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, thinking, Well, at least it was an interesting day. One to write home about. Assuming it's ever declassified.

He chuckled mirthlessly, causi

 

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/art/StarTide-1.jpg]

The Star Tide - BHI

The Star Tide floated in the starry sea of space like a broad winged ray in the open waters of Dac, the Mon Calamari homeworld. The Admiral's trained eye was able to see the recessed lines of turbo lasers and ion cannons that lined the rounded ship's otherwise smooth hull, but despite the ship's fearsome combat abilities, the Mon Cal's experience creating luxury cruise liners was evident in her sleek lines.

The massive vessel appeared to be more organic than mechanical, and that also appealed to Ieheeloonea's Ithorian aesthetics. He was aware that no two Mon Cal cruisers were identical, as the creators of the ships were as much artisans as shipwrights. Though this made the vessels notoriously difficult to service efficiently, it also made them unpredictable to enemies.

The Manollium Flame took a leisurely path towards the great ship, but despite their slow speed, the Mon Calamari Cruiser soon filled up the viewport of the YT-1300. Soon they were cruising only meters below the mottled gray armor of the ship, like a small parasitic fish clinging to the belly of a large open ocean cetacean.

Ahead of them, the fighters of Shadow, Vortex, and Crimson Squadrons were disappearing, two by two, through the large ventral magcon field that led to the main hangar.

Moments later the Flame herself effortlessly slipped into the hangar and waited patiently on repulsors as the X-wings, Y-wings, and A-wing, were maneuvered by attentive tech crew into convenient side hangars, making room for the larger freighter next to the ship's normal compliment of shuttles.

No sooner had the large four-toed feet of the Admiral appeared on the lowering gangway, then the gathered compliment of bridge and engineering officers gathered in the large hangar had snapped to attention in orderly ranks.

Corvalis, who had just tossed his flight helmet to a waiting tech, tied his long hair back and took in the sight of the cavernous hangar. He lightly hopped down from his tiny ship, and, still in his full flight suit, jogged over to Pa-hon Gin's steaming ARC-170. His wingman was just clambering down the side of his large fighter, his tired crew following behind him.

"Looks like Ackbar pulled out all the stops after all." He said to Pa-hon, catching his friend's own flight helmet as Pa-hon hopped down the last three rungs of the ladder.

Pa-hon looked over into the main hangar where he could see the salmon colored Mon Calamari admiral handing Admiral Gaivee a datapad, and taking the Ithorian's large three fingered hand in his own webbed hand as a jubilant wave of applause began to echo weirdly in the bay.

Pa-hon laughed, "He must of made Ackbar mad. Everyone knows Loonee hates this stuff."

Corvalis chuckled and soon realized that the rest of Shadow Squadron, and some of the other squadron members, had migrated over to them. Looking out at the tired (and in many cases vacant) stares of the fighter pilots, Corvalis knew that he had to address them.

Moving past Pa-hon, he hopped up on the second rung of the ladder, and said clearly in the smaller bay, "I know all of you are tired, and you just want to get out of your flightsuits and into a proper bed, so I'll make this brief. We've lost a lot today - more than any of us really want to think about now. But we did our jobs. A lot more people lived because you did your jobs." Looking at the weary faces, Corvalis swallowed hard, feeling much older than his actual age.

"Look around at each other. When the lofty ideals we all signed up for seem far out of reach, and pain of loss is not adequately soothed by the certainty of duty and honor, look to each other. Look at each other now." He paused, watching pilots of all squadrons turning to each other.

"This is what we fight for."

He saw a few of the pilots nod in agreement, others stared at him intently, many clasped hands and slapped backs with new friends.

Nodding resolutely, Corvalis said, "Now, if you'll all grab your gear and

 

I loved the thoughts of the three officers while they were in hyperspace after the battle. The shock of losing subordinates, having an "interesting" (heh heh ) day of boarding actions and mutiny, and the motivations behind going against a personal belief to fight for something bigger... awesome stuff. The wording was spot-on and thought-provoking.

I'm glad to see they made it the rest of the way to their new fleet safely. Being given command of a Mon Cal Cruiser is no small accomplishment and speaks a lot to Gaivee's abilities. I'm looking forward to seeing more of him.


"Look around at each other. When the lofty ideals we all signed up for seem far out of reach, and pain of loss is not adequately soothed by the certainty of duty and honor, look to each other. Look at each other now." He paused, watching pilots of all squadrons turning to each other.

"This is what we fight for."

Corvalis's talk here is phenomenal. There's no doubt in my mind that he's a true leader. Not just a squadron commander, not just their boss, but a leader.

Excellent work!

 

Hey, Baconhead, I think I was in your SWG guild for a while, based on your name. =D I'd tell you who my character was, but I don't remember my character's name. I remember I was an Ithorian, though. Rockin! I'll bookmark your story and get to it as soon as I can.

 

LOL Good to hear it! Do you remember approximately when it was? There haven't been a ton of Ithorians around. I will probably remember you

 

Chapter 6

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/ships/hothvu8.png]

The Imperial Star Destroyer Palpatine's Will loomed over the planet of Carida like an imposing warrior king on a throne of blue and green. The massive wedge-shaped vessel had been shrouded in darkness, but now gleamed white in the light of the yellow sun cresting the planet below. The ship maintained a geosynchronous orbit as it hovered in recovery mode, retrieving a line of TIE fighters. These fighters however, were not the standard training flights arriving daily from the base on the planet below, but the veteran warriors of Razor Squadron, returning from Yavin IV. All other traffic was put in holding patterns, the main docking bay of the great vessel devoted entirely to the recovery of these valuable pilots.

Two gleaming red modified TIE interceptors were the last flight pair to pass the magcon field of the yawning bay. The ships moved lazily on repulsors, but their angular lines, dagger-like wings thrusting forward menacingly, made them appear to be perpetually in motion. They were finely crafted weapons, reserved for the most accomplished, and equally deadly, pilots of the Empire.

With the two ships settled down on the deck plating of the bay, the top hatches hissed with the sound of equalization and opened simultaneously. Two dark forms unhooked flight gear, dropping it unceremoniously back into the vacant cockpits for techs to retrieve, and clambered over the edge of their respective hatches, slowly descending the ladders pulled alongside their dormant craft. Around the bay the occupants of the rest of the squadron's fighters had done the same.

Though some of these pilots were doubled over with exhaustion, without fail they picked up their heavy flight helmets and snapped to attention as the last two pilots hopped down to the deck. One of these pilots removed a decidedly non-regulation TIE helmet, emblazoned with an intimidating death's head symbol, to reveal the incongruous visage of a petite, dark-haired - woman.

Even more unusual was the fact that her wingman, removing a standard TIE helmet, was also a female. The flaxen haired executive officer handed her helmet to a properly submissive tech and looked around at the double row of storm troopers on either side of the pilots, saying, "Well, looks they've brought out the welcoming committee." Her voice, though soft, echoed oddly in the vast hangar.

"I wonder if Syn will try to get us in the brig - or bed - this time?" She said in a voice only her commanding officer could hear.

A slight smile tugged on the corner of the other woman's normally severe mouth. She kept her eyes forward, locked on the rotund Imperial officer approaching, but said out of the corner of her mouth, "I'll take the brig."

The corpulent officer, Peccati Syn, was attired in the gleaming white uniform of a Grand Admiral. He saluted the two pilots, and all of Razor squadron dutifully snapped to attention and returned the salute.

"Welcome home Razors," he said, rather more cheerfully than any of them expected.

"I am sure you are all quite tired from your long journey, and I am equally as certain that you'd all like to get to a proper refresher station before debriefing, so I will dispense with typical protocol and allow you all leave until 09:00 tomorrow. Dismissed."

Audible gasps of relief echoed in the bay, irritating the dark-haired CO of the Squadron. They should be stoic, accept reward and punishment as a warrior should. I will make sure to train them more rigorously. She thought, ruefully. Her irritation grew when the admiral let his appraising eyes examine her.

"Commander Gorbunov, a word if you will." He turned to walk slowly towards the exit, implying that she should follow.

Sighing, the commander turned to her executive officer and said, "Get the men settled and set a simm training schedule beginning at 05:00 tomorrow. The admiral might have given them leave, but I have not." She paused before saying, "And get some rest Deacon, I have a feeling we'll be shipping out agai

 

[image=http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b293/Loonee1/Out%20of%20the%20Shadows/moncal2.jpg]

Ensign Rhen "Chif" Chiffero walked wide-eyed down the long dark corridor. His head swiveled from side to side, taking in the sights around him. He'd never been on a ship this big before, and he had taken to exploring the corridors during his rare off duty hours. He'd been very busy in their first two months assigned to the Star Tide however, so he still had many areas of the ship to examine. Though he should have been resting, as he was due to pull a twelve hour escort duty that night, he was busy exploring the lower midship decks of the great ship on this particular excursion. The area he was in was commonly referred to as, "The Quarren Sector," and rarely received human visitors.

Unlike the gleaming white corridors of the upper decks, this section of the ship was very dark, and even colder and more humid than the rest of the ship. The only lights in the great hallway seemed to be evenly spaced blue glow panels that diffused a wavering cool light reminiscent of dappled sunlight on a reef. Not that the young Tatooine pilot had ever seen a reef, or an ocean for that matter.

Shivering, he paused at one of these panels. He leaned close enough to see his own reflection on the surface of the light, and he suddenly realized that it wasn't made of the fiberplast typical of such mundane devices. Rapping lightly on the surface, he said to himself, "Transparisteel." Shrugging, he continued, "Why would they use transpa.."

At that moment, a hideous creature behind the panel leaped towards him, its many tentacles waving mere inches from Chif's wide eyed face, grotesquely splayed across the transparisteel. A beak snapped with such force that Chif screamed and fell back across the hall to the other side of the great corridor. Even at this distance, he still heard the sound resonate through the transparisteel and echo in the otherwise silent hall.

Chif fumbled with his sidearm and tried to compose himself, looking around the empty hallway. He heard a laughter that sounded like boulders falling into a pond. Rounding the corner ahead, Chif saw the short, squat form of a small Mon Cal tech. He was wearing nondescript coveralls, but his flippered feet slapped wetly on the grated floor of the hallway as he walked towards Chif.

"You're a long way from home aren't you kid?" The watery voice of the Mon Cal echoed.

Finding his voice, Chif replied, "Wh..What was that thing?" He gestured with his shaking blaster towards the glowing blue panel.

More laughter rumbled from the Mon Cal, "That? That was Qualaryeal'xyl. He's harmless. Just likes to play pranks on the rare human...or Mon Cal...that comes down this deep."

"Q..Qualary..what?"

"Just call him Icksy, the other humans do anyway." He shrugged and moved over to a dimly lit terminal along the wall. Using surprisingly dexterous webbed hands, he punched in a series of commands, and the hallway lights dimmed even more, dropping the corridor into near total darkness.

Chif gasped as he looked into the once opaque blue panels and recognized a multitude of graceful forms floating in the midnight blue depths beyond. He looked over at the Mon Cal and saw only large liquid yellow eyes.

"This is the ?Quarren Sector.'" The Mon Cal said quietly. "They can't handle the blasted dryness you humans prefer as well as we Mon Calamari can, so they usually choose to remain down here."

Chif was amazed at the graceful dance as Quarren swam by, some hovering momentarily to wave at them both, but most flashing by with incredible speed. Their bodies and gleaming uniforms were sleek and streamlined. What Chif had been so frightened by at first had been nothing but the tentacles and beaked mouth that made up the lower part of Icksy the Quarren's head.

Chif gasped again when he noticed a few Mon Cal, in their streamlined white and gray uniforms, swimming by as well.

The Mon Cal by his side said simply, "Some of us prefer an environment more like...home...as well." Chif saw his eyes reflected in the transparist