Before - Legends Silver Swarms of Ships *RELOADED* [Dear Diary 2014] Diary Complete!

Pilot log, entry one seventeen, 3956.5.6 BBY

Training with the other elite units stationed at this starfighter base continues, and despite the tides of war I find myself having the most fun of my life. The veterans of the other Navy units are some of the best pilots in the entire Republic Military, while a few of the flyers of the 11th Marines have been in the thick of battle from the very first battles. Their XO, an Elomin, flew against the Sith at Foerost as an ensign with only a few months' time in-unit, and told the gathered rookies about the experience. Then all of us piled into the simulators to fly a recreation of the event, updated to include the same data that had helped Republic pilots the galaxy over gain a better understanding of the enemy. Though we didn't succeed in rewriting history in the virtual environs of the dataspace, we came as close to it as could ever be expected. This was actually the first time all five units flew together, and so far as I am aware, one of the largest and most taxing uses of the Ciutran system as adapted by the Republic.

For most of the two weeks since the bombing of Taris, the 23rd has been doing sim runs only, in the usual methods of working up the new folks so they'll be able to keep up when we start going out in real Aureks. They didn't do half bad in the Foerost sim, which I consider quite an appropriate way to introduce the relative noobs to how brutal the Sith can be in how they fly and fight. They also had the benefit of seeing how truly great pilots work together to stay alive and fulfill the mission objectives—which in that particular case was survival, pure and simple. I'm also grateful that none of them have yet to demonstrate any bad habits, and are perfectly comfortable working in the sim pods as opposed to the old 2D "desktop" models that I had trained on. The only downside to the training regimen that all the squadrons are operating under, a regimen that was composed by what has jokingly been dubbed "the Coruscant String Quintet" after the commanders of the five squadrons involved, is the scheduling: Wake up at 0530 and haul ass to get dressed for a sim exercise, breakfast at 0700 followed by three sims, a late lunch at 1330 followed by another three sims, then dinner at 2000 followed by, you guessed it, another sim. Only after this last exercise was completed did the day end, and most of us are too tired to do much else but sack out.

Things are only going to get tighter when we start flying for real, which will be starting shortly if our replacement starfighters show up on time. The Quintet has agreed to allow for a three-day liberty, so that everybody can rest up, because no one wants to be worn out when behind the controls. Overall, I'm happy to say that in terms of the inevitable rivalry between squadrons, the 23rd has been holding its own. We're not the best of the pack, and I've been vaped more times than I care to admit by pilots who were combat veterans while I was worrying about making the swoop league, but neither are we the "easy meat." I would say we're in a dead heat with the 15th Navy for second-best, and they've had to replace just over half their number after getting bushwhacked over Alanteen a month before Bastila's flotilla first left Arkania. Camaraderie is thick in the air throughout the starfighter base, and despite whatever else may be going on out in the galaxy, we're doing our best to prepare for the next deployment, whatever that may be.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Wonderful essentials in place: camaraderie and readiness.

 

Pilot log, entry one eighteen, 3956.5.13 BBY

Liberty for the String Quintet and its accompanying ensemble has been a welcome breather after exhaustive sim exercises, in which a running tally of squadron scores was kept. Unsurprisingly, the Navy took the informal honors, with the 7th narrowly beating out the 32nd, while the 11th and 23rd Marines finished in a virtual dead heat, with the 15th Navy bringing up the rear. It is a testament to the skill of everyone involved that no one unit ran away from the rest of the pack, nor did anyone lag behind, and individual scores (among the rookies, at least) were excellent across the board. Among my own crop of new pilots, one in particular was able to demonstrate not only excellent piloting skills, but also a nascent tactical sense and a gift for situational awareness, and it seems that Ensign Varb Engrazzi only needs to manage to keep his head in a real fight before he starts climbing the ladder.

Unfortunately, as we returned to duty to begin training as units in the rookies' new starfighters, I've been informed by no less a person than Rear Admiral Emden Chalabain, head of all Marine Corps fighter forces, that the 11th and 23rd have only ten days (at time of writing) to finish working up before we are to be redeployed. The rest of the Quintet tells me that the same accelerated timetable has been given to the three Navy squadrons as well, and the five of us gathered last night after having concluded the day's flight ops to make educated guesses about what might be going on and where we may be headed. If any of the other squadron commanders were wary of heading back into the fray so soon, they made no mention nor gave any hint of it. No one seemed to agree on where Command might send us, and all manner of planets were suggested as destinations, from the embattled skies of Alanteen to a possible surgical strike on Ziost.

This is usually the point where I say that there's nothing for it but to accelerate our training, but not this time. There's something going on out there in the galaxy; a sense of escalation, that only someone experienced in the art of war can pick up on by reading between the lines of the news and official reports, is telling me that to push my people any harder would be a mistake. In fact, I'm going to start deviating from the training regimen to give my people a bit more rest as well as access to information that most squadron commanders wouldn't share; I've encouraged Commander Mardee of the 11th to do the same, though that is ultimately up to him. It is this same sense of anticipation that has also prompted me to do whatever it takes, burn whatever favors I can or, if it comes down to it, flaunt my status as a hero, to become increasingly better-informed about the Republic's war effort and what is known about any Sith activities. I'll skip the details, but suffice it to say that I'm starting to learn more and more about interstellar operations, and while on liberty, I happened to meet a very interesting fellow named Kavar.

Here's the kicker, though: It was never my goal to seek out the Jedi for help, because the Force knows they have enough on their hands as it is without upstart fighter pilots bugging them for information.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Sound strategy for letting the team recoup from the intense training. Also very, very good idea to get more info. Can never have too little of that. More the COs have, the better prepared everyone will be.

 

Pilot log, entry one nineteen, 3956.5.17 BBY

The latest issue of Jarhead! arrived yesterday, and they finally got around to publishing Reeka's account of her interview with me. I had thought that she had given me a good idea of what to expect from the final, published article, but what I read made my face heat up like a blast furnace. I knew that this piece represented sincere admiration, but it seems that I've always had issues with seemingly undeserved credit. Perhaps that innate sense of modesty has been the only thing keeping me from becoming a total headcase and developing an ego the size of a large moon, and for that I am grateful. Though I can't say that I've seen such things for myself, it is obvious to me that overestimating your talents and abilities is a surefire way to get yourself killed, especially in the kinds of fights I've been a part of. I noticed that a few parts of our interview had been omitted, specifically those pertaining to certain operational details, including the entire Ciutric campaign and pretty much everything that had been referenced in my Cross of Glory citation, as well as any mention of my swooping days on Corulag. This wasn't unexpected, however, and I didn't think any less of the Rodian lieutenant because of it.

I was also surprised to learn that Reeka had gotten a quote out of Mara for the article, and even more so in regards to what she said. She's not wrong, I have been through several flavors of hell and back again, but to see it in data for all the galaxy to read...well, I guess she really does like me. Unfortunately I can't talk to her about it, because as we started up sim training, Horseshoe and Delta Dagger were redeployed to Kuat to finish their respective refits and to train their replacement officers and crew. I have no doubt that Mara has read the article as well, knowing as I do that she also has a subscription to Jarhead! despite being Navy. I can only hope that if my pilots, and those from the 11th, also happen to have read it, that they won't think any less of me or my associations. But it's not like they would come up and tell me even if they did, so I don't foresee any problems there.

Anyway, our flight training operations are going fairly smoothly, and we've begun ranging further and further out from Coruscant itself. Yesterday the 23rd and 11th played tag with the 7th and 15th out in the system's Oort cloud, practicing maneuvers amongst the various sizes of asteroids and cometary fragments. This kind of flying is old hat to me, but the rookies had never before experienced dodging rocks and chunks of ice whose relative velocity can sometimes match the cruising speed of Aurek fighters. One of them managed to clip a frozen ball of methane; fortunately for both pilot and fighter, it was only a glancing hit and the debris itself didn't have much mass. As a result, she had to return to base and get her craft looked at, and later on I commented about the incident to the rest of my people: "These kinds of things will happen," I said matter-of-factly at the debrief. "It's dangerous work, flying through space flotsam like we did today, and as odd as it may seem, this will help to prepare you for combat. There will be no punishment; better pilots than all of us have cracked up under similar conditions."

Well, we've only got six days left to finish working the new pilots into the outfit, but I'm confident we'll be ready despite Ensign Fulmar's little mishap. My relaxed regimen seems to be working quite well, because even flying a pilot light during the simulated exercise, we mopped the floor with the 7th while the 11th kept the 15th at bay long enough for the Marine "survivors" to finish off the Navy folks. Last night after I dismissed my people, Commander Mardee paid me a short visit, announcing that he was interested in hearing a little more about how I was working my squadron. So, this morning after reading the interview, I sent him a short message explaining the changes I had made to the Quintet's scheduling.

I confess that the comet brushing incident is something new for me, perhaps another artifact of inexperience that nevertheless has taught me something important. Even during playful exercises with friendly units, bad things can happen, which is all the more reason to keep you concentration on your job and surroundings at all times. Space itself is vast and inhospitable, quite antithetical to the existence of nearly all known forms of life, and it's not a nice place to be if you happen to lose your focus even for an instant. As this log can attest, I'd rather parachute into the middle of a spirited ground battle than be forced to eject into the void.

Oh, and one more thing: it seems that Master Kavar is interested in sending a couple of Jedi Knights over to our base to see how we train in our starfighters. He forwarded the request a few days ago, and since he's a member of the Jedi High Council, the base commander probably couldn't have denied the request even if he had wanted to. Anyway, the Knights should be here either tomorrow or the next day, and though they will be arriving in their own fighter craft, a pair of unused Aureks have already been detailed for their use should they be so inclined to go out on check-rides. This should be an interesting experience; though I've felt the influence of the Force in battle, and have even seen Jedi engaging in ground combat, I've never before had the chance to see one in the cockpit. If the holodramas and official reports are any indication, we should be in for a real treat indeed.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

The blend of modesty with undeniable competence is endearing. I like how well the relax-regimen seems to be working.

 

Pilot log, entry one twenty, 3956.5.21 BBY

The two Jedi Knights came to our base as advertised, each flying old, but lovingly-maintained XC-01 Star Sabers. Long, graceful-looking craft with relatively stubby fixed wings and a V-shaped twin tail assembly, they were at one point the premier starfighter design produced by the Republic. Though from what I understand, they suffered from a number of design flaws that were only really addressed by the use of the Force, and have since been relegated to use by the Jedi. The two Knights, one a Zabrak female named Qel-Quolar and the other a Twi'lek male called Geld'ira, introduced themselves to the gathered squadrons of the String Quintet and explained the purpose behind their visit: they wanted to evaluate the Aurek-class as a viable platform to replace their aging Star Sabers, but also to show the elite pilots of the Republic what it would be like to face a Force-user in ship-to-ship combat. According to Qel-Quolar, though the Sith have thus far not shown themselves willing to put their own Force adepts into starfighter cockpits, evidence had recently come to light of a Dark Jedi pilot training program in the works.

Though no one made any such intimations, my immediate thought was that we were being prepared to hit whatever facility the Sith might be using for such a purpose—this explained both their visit and our accelerated deployment.

After our first meeting, the two Knights proceeded to perform a short demonstration in their own craft, engaging in a spirited dogfight that I could only just barely follow; from the looks on their faces, some of the rookies weren't able to keep up at all, which is never a good sign. The combat ended after about ten minutes, and when the Knights returned to the hangar bay, I and the other squadron commanders helped them to learn the different systems of the Aureks that had been set aside for them. It didn't take long, and I was impressed how quick on the uptake both of them were, and soon they were off on orientation flights accompanied by the COs of the 7th and 32nd. Every maneuver the two commanders pulled was matched with razor-sharp precision by the Knights, who were acting as wingmates for the check-ride; the degree of precision they were able to achieve was indistinguishable from slave circuitry. After this little demonstration, everyone was dismissed for lunch and the pair of Jedi joined myself, Commander Mardee, and the Navy unit leaders for an informal bull session over our own meals.

I learned that Kavar hadn't been looking for me specifically when the two of us first met, I just happened to be the first of the Quintet he ran into when he was looking to cement the Order's relationship with the Republic's starfighter corps. According to Geld'ira, the Jedi Master was interested in incorporating a limited number of Jedi pilots into existing squadrons, either as flight leaders or even squadron commanders, depending on circumstances and possible vacancies. The 32nd's CO gave the man a stern look and said something to the effect of "they'd better prove themselves worthy of following, first." That's when Qel-Quolar brought up the next phase of their visit: a series of combats during which the two Knights would face off against the assembled squadrons, first as individuals against an entire squadron each, then two verses two units, and finally the pair of them going up against every pilot at the base. In the wake of this proclamation, the two Knights took it in turns to explain how the Force enables them to enhance their latent abilities to such a fine degree.

I won't go into details, but suffice to say their confidence was backed up in every way imaginable. Every pilot they faced went down in flames, figuratively speaking, and no one was able to so much as scratch their shields, never mind get a solid target lock. All while the two Knights flew craft that, until that day, they had never even touched. From the time they arrived until now, the Jedi have continued to work with us regular folks to hone our respective skills, and they've shown us things that none of us had imagined that the Aurek-class fighter could do. With our redeployment looming ever closer, I'm glad these Knights have come, even if the fruits of their endeavors result in us going into battle against superhuman foes. If my hunch is borne out, we're going to need every bit of help we can get.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Wow, some very, very impressive demonstrations and very handy enhancements for the squadrons I think.

 

Pilot log, entry one twenty-one, 3956.5.25 BBY

The Coruscant String Quintet has, for all intents and purposes, been disbanded as all five units have been activated and given our assignments. Though the unofficial moniker is no more, the five Navy and Marine starfighter squadrons that shared the camaraderie which spawned it remain together, stationed aboard the flotilla of Republic warships we have been assigned to. This is more than just a scratch force, as it is based around the Interdictor-class cruiser Wranger, which I understand is a veteran of the Mandalorian Wars as well as battles in the current conflict—as a vessel under Sith control. The history of this particular warship was conveyed to me and the other unit commanders—we're actually rolling out with five additional squadrons, four Navy and one Marine unit, the 4th—along with a general overview of the forthcoming operation. It seems that I was right in guessing that we are going off in search of this Dark Jedi flying school; if we do end up finding it, our job will be to wipe it off the face of whatever planet or moon it sits upon and kill or neutralize as many of the enemy as possible.

The 7th, 15th and 32nd Navy, along with our Jedi liaisons, have been stationed aboard Wrangler, the former being the best equipped to operate from such a large vessel while the latter will act as advisers to the commodore running the show, a Duros rear admiral named Bilur Stazi. Though when the turbolaser bolts start flying, I'm fairly certain our Force-using friends will be manning their starfighters, whether or not we end up facing off against any Sith hotshots. Our destination has not yet been revealed, though we are heading toward the Unknown Regions on a course that will take us close to the Deep Core and almost directly away from all known areas of Sith control. Far from being perplexed at the possibility of such an unlikely route, it was rather easy to deduce that even if the Sith have set up shop on the other side of the galaxy, space is vast enough that small forces on either side can go just about wherever they please as long as certain precautions are made. After all, in galactic warfare, borders are almost meaningless regardless of what kind of forces one possesses.

The 11th and 23rd are as ready as Commander Mardee and I can make them, as are the the Navy flyers we trained with. Mardee and his people have been put aboard the cruiser Umbria while my unit occupies the hangar bay of Halberd, both veteran warships with well-tested crews. After having operated aboard Horseshoe for so long and becoming so familiar with Mara and her crew, it's been a little bit of a disconcerting transition aboard ship, at least at first, but our last day of training prior to the Quintet's deployment, all five units engaged in training exercises with the warships to which they would be assigned. Halberd's captain, a Gotal who was probably serving as an ensign while I was in diapers, is a good officer and appreciates the nature of and need for Navy-Marine cooperation. Thankfully, he's also unimpressed by the records and honors accumulated by myself and my people, which means we've had to meet his standards for starfighter operations. And the 23rd has so far failed to disappoint Commander Derdinall.

Well, anyone who comes across this log and has gotten this far will, I'm sure, have noticed a pattern: I don't like to comment about places we're going to and plans for battles until those actions have happened. There's a reason for this that goes far beyond any holodrama clichés in terms of importance, and that's operational security. Why do I mention this now? Well, it seems that just prior to leaving Coruscant the day before yesterday, I received an encrypted communiqué from Agent Grimm of RNCI. In it he told me that his team had finally purged their copies of my log, that I had submitted to them for scrutiny in wake of The Mutiny, from their computers after having gotten all they could from it. He went on to thank me for my cooperation, and to pass along a message from my former exec Senna Almo, who is now a full commander (he wouldn't say what she was doing, only that she had been further promoted). In it she confessed that she had had a hand in nominating me for the Cross of Glory, and says that she is glad the Republic came through.

So that's it for now, and any future entries will be posted after the completion of any momentous encounter that might occur at just about any time. Scuttlebutt from other parts of the galaxy have already circulated about the flotilla, and if even half of it is true, a final, tumultuous showdown between the best the Republic and the Sith have to offer isn't too long in the making. Just an hour ago I heard from the chief starfighter mechanic aboard Halberd that the Wookiees of Kashyyyk are getting restless, and that there have already been incidents near the Czerka-held parts of that forest planet on the border of Sith Space. Though I've never had the chance to meet one, from what I know about them, Wookiees seem like a pleasant lot despite their size and appearance; it's all about respect with them, and respect is something I know in spades.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

You really get the sense of things gearing up to a final confrontation.

 

Pilot log, entry one twenty-two, 3956.6.3 BBY

Well, it had to happen eventually, I suppose, it's just a good thing I had had that last message saved elsewhere—the one Teish'ala had slipped into my starfighter's onboard computer.

The task force found that Dark Jedi flight school alright, based in a previously uncharted system on the other side of the Koornacht Cluster and a ways out from what is understood to be the far side of the Deep Core. What we weren't told until just prior to going in was that the Jedi Order had had scout ships keeping tabs on what was going on there, monitoring traffic patterns and waiting for the best time to attack. Our forces ended up loitering for close to ten hours on-station at the jumping-off point before the go order was given, and then the eight cruisers and twenty frigates, as well as the ten squadrons of Marine and Navy-piloted starfighters, descended upon the system in a two-pronged assault that caught the Sith forces there flat-footed. To the enemy's credit, it didn't take long for them to recover from the initial shock of their predicament, but by then there was not much they could do to stave off defeat. With only five cruisers and a smattering of surface-based anti-ship turbolaser batteries defending them, all they could do was go out in a blaze of glory.

Unfortunately for us snubby jocks, there were a fair number of Force adepts flying those Sith interceptors along with their "ordinary" pilots, stationed both on the surface and aboard their own cruisers, and it took just about every trick in the book to keep from getting vaped. One on one they were excellent pilots, able to exploit their crafts' strengths and minimize any weaknesses, and you could tell if you were up against one of the bastards by the way they always seemed to either slip up onto your six, or out of your own targeting reticule. That said, they didn't know a damn thing about cooperation, and almost none of them worked as cohesive wingpairs—the exception consisted of a flight of enemy fighters that had been painted dark gray with red accents. Clearly possessed of skill and experience, these Sith managed to do a lot of damage before they were brought to heel by Qel-Quolar and Geld'ira, who had been joined by another wingpair of Jedi Knights for this particular battle.

I was one of their victims, forced to eject into the void of space as the battle itself petered out, my long-serving and faithful Aurek exploding in a cloud of ionized gasses a short while later.

Rescue, I'm told, wasn't very long in coming, but I had apparently passed out from the cold by the time they pulled me to safety. When I finally woke up it was to find myself floating in kolto and being gently prodded by a perky-faced corpsman who looked as though she thoroughly enjoyed her job. From what I've been able to gather in the days since the attack, this is by far the closest I've ever come to snuffing it, and that it had taken the work of a Jedi healer at one point to ensure I kept on existing long enough to receive proper medical attention. Naturally, the first words out of my mouth once I had been pulled from the tank and given a berth in Halberd's sick bay, were an inquiry as to the state of my squadron and people. That question was answered almost at once as Paol leaned over to smile at me from another berth—he too had been forced to punch out of his fighter after being blasted good and proper by the same enemy fighters that got me. "They're alright, Skipper," he said genially. "You got the worst of it, though. Sorry we couldn't get them off your tail."

Over the last couple of days, I've been able to piece together the details of what happened, though all the pertinent details have been classified. What I can say in this log, along with the above general overview, is that while my people didn't suffer any fatalities, Paol and I weren't the only injuries; Yuri Namane had also been forced to eject and most of the rest had been damaged to some degree. This was largely the case amongst the other units of the Quintet, though the 15th and 32nd both lost a pilot each. The other squadrons fared somewhat worse, but no more than would be expected in a fleet action of this scale. Paol and Yuri both agree with me in postulating that the Sith who had gotten the better of us had deliberately targeted flight leaders and squadron commanders. Commander Mardee and his XO were also caught in the crossfire, but by that time the Jedi had realized what was going on and had intervened, though it came too late to save the exec of the 32nd or the CO of the 15th.

With the battle over, Halberd at least is heading back to Coruscant—I am allowed to log that much—though I'm still confined to sick bay until the chief medical officer clears me for duty. It's only been two days since I woke up, and already I'm feeling as though small, crawling insects have decided to make a nest in my pants. Thankfully, though, I've since been permitted the use of my shipboard utilities (in the form of nice, comfortable BDUs), rather than having to loiter about in the sort of smock that is a mainstay of hospitals the galaxy over. I don't even have a clue what's been going on elsewhere in the Republic, as the fleet has been under hypercomm silence since just after we'd left Coruscant. I guess when we return, a fuller account will be given and I'll get to catch up with events.

I'm starting to understand just how Teish'ala felt after she'd been forced to go EV that second time...

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Wow, that was close! I think there will be some sort of crossroads or transition for Chak as a result of the near-miss, desired or not. Not a demotion certainly but perhaps a lateral career move or something totally different.

 

Pilot log, entry one twenty-three, 3956.6.8 BBY

The Halberd has been back in orbit of Coruscant for a while now, with the 23rd moved back into our former quarters at the fighter base we trained at. Yuri, Paol and I have all recovered fully and been restored to flight status, though we arrived without ships to fly. All three of us have been offered S-250 Chela-class starfighters to replace our lost Aureks, and all three of us have flatly refused this so-called honor. My response came immediately, while Lieutenants Gril'char and Namane came to the same conclusion after going through check-rides of their own—I had had prior experience with this craft, and had deemed it as an unappealing alternative to the type on which I had first learned how to fly. Their assessments mirrored my own in large part: the orientation of the cockpit was off, and despite their superior speed they weren't as agile or responsive, and neither of them cared for the lack of anti-ship power that the switch from proton torpedoes to concussion missiles represented.

I wouldn't care to lead a mixed-type unit in any case, as the performance differences could pose any number of problems.

Not long after we arrived on-planet, we learned that the situation on Kashyyyk had boiled over and that the Wookiees were in open revolt, killing or driving their former Czerka Corporation oppressors offworld. Not long afterward, a collective of representatives from various native villages requested that the Republic send a military assistance and protection force to help ensure that the slavers don't simply call up their Sith buddies to bring an even larger force to their Mid Rim home. Waiting for me at my old quarters was a message from Mara, in which she said that Horseshoe had been attached to that force and would be moving out soon, date and time unknown. She also said that she misses me, and hopes that I don't get up to too much trouble—apparently nobody bothered to tell her about my little accident on the other side of the galaxy. And no, I still can't say any more about that subject, even in my encrypted log, not that I really want to.

In the meantime, the other squadrons of the Coruscant String Quintet have trickled one by one back to our facility, and with the return of all five units, we held a small memorial service for those pilots we lost. The 15th's XO, who had been with the unit since the last months of the Mandalorian Wars, was elevated to command of the squadron, with his exec coming from the 44th which, for the past few months, had been stationed at Chazwa. The 32nd also received a transferee from that unit to replace its fallen exec; both pilots have already begun to demonstrate their mettle in the simulators. Officially, we're conducting readiness exercises in preparation for redeployment, but we are all very much aware that this is just a hiccough in our planned return to the front lines. Units of our skills are wasted in dirtdown billets, even ones on the galactic capital, and we need to be out there vaping more Sith.

Of course, it's also possible that the Republic is saving us for special occasions, and that notion does have some appeal. Perhaps we represent part of a ready-made reaction force, a spear that can be thrust into an exposed weak point of the Sith Empire, hastening its destruction; conversely, we might also be employed as an emergency reserve, if a major Sith offensive threatens to break the tenuous stalemate that scuttlebutt says that this war has become. Though such a supposition ignores the near-constant raiding conducted by both belligerents on either side of the border, it is apparent that the Republic is just managing to hold on to what territory it still held before the fall of Taris. Though if the Sith keep out-producing what shipyards remain in Republic hands, that will be small comfort and a situation that will not last for long.

Sithspit, I need to go out for a swoop ride before this pessimism starts to get to me. My folks will be glad to see me, and I them.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Bravo on a well-written and understandable bit of pessimism, as Chak calls it. Yup, a swoop ride and family time is just what's needed.

 

Pilot log, entry one twenty-four, 3956.6.14 BBY

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, or seal the bulkhead up with our own dead," to quote the titular character in Whipstaff's Nellus V.

The time spent with my family was short but sweet, and only lasted for one blissfully calm dinner and evening of conversation as well as an overnight stay in my old room before my comlink blared to life with the recall signal not long after breakfast. Since I hadn't bothered to bring a change of clothes, my mother very kindly ran my uniform through the laundry while I had used the refresher, thus ensuring that all I had to do was hop back onto my swoop and tear up the skyways to get back to base ASAP. Thankfully by then I was also in a much better mood, having told my folks about having to eject from my fighter into hard vacuum, and my father jokingly declaring that this meant that I was finally a man in full. The statement was so off-the-wall and delivered in such a marvelously mock-pompous manner, that I couldn't help but break out into gales of laughter. After that little rhetorical maneuver, my earlier pessimism had shattered and fallen away like an eggshell—I truly have the best family a man could hope for.

As for the reason for the recall, I arrived at base to learn that all five squadrons were being activated for immediate deployment, as was a sizable contingent of the warships in orbit of Coruscant. It was only after we had all launched from the facility and formed up with the fleet, and then made a quick jump in the general direction of Kuat, that we were appraised of our destination and the purpose of our mission: all signs pointed to an imminent move by the Sith to conquer Kashyyyk, which would most likely entail the resumption of the natives' enslavement. Such was the necessity of a rapid reinforcement of the Republic position there, that it was only once we had gotten as far out as Commenor that the various Aurek squadrons were permitted to land aboard their assigned warships to get some rest for the other half of the trip. Once we were aboard and back underway, a more comprehensive briefing was given to the various unit commanders by their ships' captains.

The fleet arrived in orbit of Kashyyyk without incident, for a change, and the various ships and squadrons were deployed in a standard defensive posture, since no one knew where the Sith thrust might land. Proving to the rest of the galaxy that they were no backrocket rubes when it came to high technology, it transpired that the Wookiees had already begun to use captured Czerka equipment and materials to begin work on they considered to be an orbital command facility; by the time we arrived, with Republic assistance this construct had been expanded to include a number of bare-bones hangar facilities suitable for anything from starfighters to medium freighters. Our hosts, a quartet of older-looking Wookiees and a "reclaimed" protocol droid that served as their translator (Wookiees are unable to speak Basic, but they can certainly understand it), were quite gracious, but insisted that any "shore rotations" as the droid had called them, had to be conducted aboard the station.

When asked by Captain Derdinall why this had to be, Freyyr, the oldest and crankiest-looking of the lot, explained in as polite a manner as he could that his people had become much more selective about who they let visit the planet itself. He and the others went on to explain that this was how they had gotten into trouble in the first place; outsiders had swiftly learned to exploit the Wookiees' sense of communal trust and honor, and used that to keep the population suppressed while they kidnapped the natives in their hundreds to be sold as slaves offworld. I wasn't present for that particular meeting, but the essentials were related to all relevant parties—along with the Wookies' gratitude that we were still willing to help defend them even with the restrictions they had imposed. There wasn't much time to mull things over, however, as the Sith showed up less than a day after our arrival.

Naturally, the alarm klaxons began to blare as I and my pilots were sleeping in our Aureks; I hadn't gotten as much sleep as I would have liked, since my ship was brand-new and not yet "broken in" as it were. But even on short rest it was relatively easy to kick myself into gear and rouse my people from their torpor and into hunter mode, such that the last ship out of Halberd's hangar emerged within forty-five seconds of the scramble alert's activation. I don't want to say that the battle which followed was atypical of my experiences thus far, but it did seem as though the enemy admiral wasn't very interested in sacrificing too much of his forces for a bunch of—as the Sith no doubt see the Wookiees—savages useful only for manual labor. This isn't to say that the action wasn't sharp, but it wasn't nearly as drawn out as perhaps it could have been, given the relatively even strength of the two fleets. My people fell upon the enemy interceptors with their usual ravenous fury, and the cruisers and frigates of each fleet exchanged hammer blows like titanic monsters of legend, but after barely ten minutes of fighting, the majority of the Sith armada simply faded away and retreated into hyperspace.

The Battle of Kashyyyk was a victory, certainly, but it felt somehow hollow. Our position here was too precarious to mount a pursuit operation, and the Sith had been unwilling to commit themselves fully to the task appointed them. On the other hand, the Quintet didn't lose anybody, and the rookies—bona fide combat veterans now—got yet more combat experience and accumulated more kills. We even got in quite a few licks on the leading enemy cruisers, blowing up one after its shields had been stripped by a trio of Republic frigates, and helping to disable two others. Overall, however, I would have to say that this particular Sith admiral seems rather smarter than most; he obviously knew that he was facing an augmented defense fleet that matched his own assault force, and that we had every opportunity to achieve a decisive victory. The only real choice he had was the one he made, which was to send out a vanguard to occupy our attention while his main battle line reoriented itself to withdraw in good order before they could be interrupted.

So, we've managed to hold the enemy at bay for now, and two days later the fleet is conducting yet more patrols, but I doubt most of us will be here for much longer. If the Sith have a larger fleet within convenient striking distance that isn't otherwise occupied, they'll send it our way fairly soon—or not at all. Kashyyyk may contain untold hordes of vast resources vital for conducting a galactic war, but even if it does, it's all buried beneath kilometers of forest growth, not to mention that while the Wookiees may be the only sentient species to inhabit this planet, from what I hear they're far from the most dangerous. I finally got the chance to meet a few of the two-meter hirsute bipeds, and my conversations with them pretty much confirmed what I suspected about their culture. They were tight-lipped about where exactly they lived, but they didn't seem to mind sharing intimate details of the various flora and fauna of their homeworld.

Well, this entry is dragging on like a one-legged bantha, so I'll wrap up with this: I'm back in the war, and feeling pretty good about it. Which isn't to say that I like war, though that should be obvious.

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Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

*waves hand*
This isn't the droid you think it is, Findswoman. Sorry.

 

I am very happy Chak is so blessed to have such a family; they know just how to dispel the gloomy mood. "Like an eggshell" I love the fragility and transitoriness that comparison brings to mind.

Being back in the action will always be an antidote for Chak, as long as he feels he's doing something meaningful. And this victory certainly helps