“This is easier?  Roth, I do not want to see your concept of hard.  Put your comm on mute if you’re going to start talking to yourself.”

  Driver flipped his comm switch and shook his head.  These kids sure have a warped idea of easy and hard.  Zark had formed up on his port wing and Roth was on his starboard.  Trevor was knee deep in good pilot, and Flight 3 was the rope to pull him out.  The boys had acquitted themselves well in their first combat, and he would probably put them up for a citation, conditional on them still being alive at the end of it all.

  “Eyes up boys, there’s still a fast bad guy out there, and the boss has become his new best friend.”

  Zark chimed in, “I’ve got Trevor.  He’s on our three o’clock and he’s occupied.”

  G checked his scopes and saw that Trev was indeed occupied.  The A-9 was so close he could smell Trev’s aftershave, and he wasn’t letting up.  G tapped out a text with basic tactics and instructions.  He killed his comm and the others followed suit.  With luck, the hostile will be too pre-occupied trying to vaporize the boss to notice three very fast, heavily armed, and well piloted fighters screaming down on him.

  Their luck held.  In a matter of moments Flight Three was within hailing of Evenson.  G’shlecc tapped out a quick set of instructions and positioning maneuvers for the Squadron Commander to follow.  He got back a single letter affirmative, and punched the execute to the boys.

  Zark broke hard a port and dropped down.  Roth broke opposite and high.  G drove strait on.  Trevor juked and pitched, trying to keep the quicker opponent from locking on.  At the moment staying alive was looking less and less like a sure thing.

  “Soon would be good Driver.” The Lieutenant commed, tension filling every syllable.

  “Come to Daddy…Sir”, piped G.

  Trevor raced dead on at G.  The A-9 moments behind him.  Driver’s luck held because the A-9’s pilot was too focused on who he was chasing and not on who was chasing him.  Atrasin pushed his fighter to the limits of its speed curve, and punched the code for trap to be sprung.

  Trevor slammed on his inertial dampers and dove at an almost 90 degree angle.  The trailing A-9 was slow to react, but quick to line up right where G wanted him.  As Evenson shot out of the way, the diving Roth hit him from above, and the climbing Zark hit him from below.  His shields lasted all of a few brief nanoseconds.  Long enough for him to see G’s missile crease his canopy and turn him into so much space dust.  Z and R scissored through the vaporized craft and let out respective hoots.

  “Hmm, didn’t think that would actually work.” Commed Driver to Trev.

  “Next time, don’t tell me that, I’ll sleep better.” Came the reply.

  “OK, kids still two baddies out there needing to be killed, eyes up.”

  Trevor fell in on Roth’s wing and joined the hunt for the remaining two bogeys.
  “Anyone got anything?” asked G on an open channel.

  A chorus of ‘no’s cascaded through his helmet.  The remaining hostiles seemed to think that living out their days in shame was far more appealing than not living at all. 

  Trevor’s voice came across the line next, “Alrighty, let’s get moving on, that Firebase still is packing a lot of punch and this convoy isn’t led by the Death Star.  Move in, and take out as many turrets as you can.  The less they shoot the better chance the Stormies get there alive.”

  “Flight 3, on me.” Commed G.

  He broke high and a starboard, wanting to get a better look at the Firebase.  He could see the bristling emplacements from quite a ways out.  He saw, and felt them a short time later.  Whomever was aboard her, was not a crack marksman, and for that matter, not a very active one.

  “Nazgul, be aware, not all the guns are firing.”

  “Roger that, G.” replied Rogue.

  Atrasin wondered what they were up to.  They had the whole fleet out gunned by a goodly margin.  The Imperials had the element of surprise, albeit a weak one, on their side. Even with all of these advantages the Firebase shot sporadically at best.

  An explosion ripped through the lower levels of he base, destroying several dozen batteries and silencing one of the more active areas.  G heard the bark-laugh of an amused Wookiee, followed by a metallic voice saying, “Dine in the lower reaches of the Wookiee theology’s punishment zone.”

  G chuckled at the literal translation Rusty’s droid gave, he laughed out loud at the sound of an annoyed Wookiee and the clang of metal on metal as he obviously swatted the offending mechanism out of the air.

  “OK boys, have at.” Said Trevor.

  The Flights began to dive on the station.  The space around them was filled with criss-crossed Turbolaser bolts.  Flight 3 dove in along he stations’ upper levels and opened up with strafing shots.  The surface erupted in a holocaust of explosions and decompressions.  Batteries vaporized and the station shuddered. 

  The flights took turns pummeling the station, and dodging the few outbound shots.  Several came very close to taking out Zark and Roth.  G barked at them to pay attention and focus on the job at hand.  The bombardment continued as the convoy edged closer and closer to the station.  G saw the Corvettes open up on the station with full broadsides.  The firepower unleashed by these ships, coupled with the surgical strikes of the Nazzies, quickly rendered most, if not all, of the batteries inoperable. 

  G continued to fly in a protective mode as the convoy proceeded to grapple alongside the firebase and disgorge its cargo of Troopers.  He knew within hours all the combatants on that station would be dead or in custody.  Hopefully, this operation would go down without a hitch.  Hopefully.

OOC:

1006 words

Jegora watched from the observation deck of the VSD Calamity as Nazgul continued the mop up. After Jegora’s radar was disabled he had set his course in the Calamity’s general direction. He had started broadcasting a general distress signal and had been hauled in by the tractor beams on the Victory Star Destroyer. Since then he had been watching the battle unfold from the observation deck on the command bridge of the command ship.

He was also listening to the communication channels. So it was that he heard Gshlecc begin shouting over the Nazgul channel. He couldn’t really make out what the older man was saying, due to a large amount of static. Still, he got the general gist.

After several more minutes of listening to Gshlecc yell, Jegora had a sinking feeling. Something very bad was about to happen.

Another minute passed, and Jegora started to think that maybe his bad feeling didn’t mean anything. Then the firebase exploded.

Exploded was an understatement. The middle of the base suddenly expanded outward, and then the explosions quickly moved up and down the entire structure. A concussive wave lit outward from the base, and then the whole thing was consumed in a gigantic fireball. All the warheads and tibanna gas on the station made for one hell of an explosion, plus whatever explosives the warlord forces had placed.

Jegora lurched to his feet, suddenly sick to his stomach. His entire squadron had been near the firebase when it exploded. He had no idea if any of them survived, but things weren’t looking good.

Turning sharply on his heel Jegora took off at a sprint to the command deck. He wanted answers. He made it all the way to the security checkpoint right outside the command deck before he was stopped.

One of the MPs, a burly man about Jegora’s height, sauntered up and looked Jegora up and down.

“What can I do for you Master Chief?” the man asked, a slight grin on his face. He knew Jegora wanted onto the deck, and Jegora had a sinking feeling that the man wasn’t going to let him pass.

Looking the man dead in the eye, Jegora spoke, his voice ice cold and hard. “I need in, Sergeant, and I need in right now.”

Jegora’s cold glare, combined with his hard words, made the man take an involuntary step backwards. It didn’t change his mind, though. He still wasn’t going to let Jegora through.

“I believe that’s impossible, son. No one is allowed onto the command deck without official business, which I doubt you have. Unless you have official business? No? Very well then, run along,” the MP said, turning back to his guard post.

Jegora took a deep breath. His anger at this pompous fool, combined with his fear for his squadron, was causing him to come very, very close to breaking the MPs neck. He knew that would be no good, however; all that would accomplish was a court martial. Still, he needed information. He needed to know if anyone had survived the explosion.

The other MP manning the guard post, a short thin Corporal, looked over at Jegora and said, “You heard the man: move along flyboy, or we’ll remove you.”

Jegora’s anger expanded exponentially for some reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Normally the MP’s jibes wouldn’t bother the young flight leader all that much, but today was different. That anger combined with his fear caused Jegora to snap.

Out of the corner of his eye Jegora saw the bigger and older MP wince. He seemed to realize that the younger MP had taken it too far. The younger MP, however, didn’t seem to realize his error as Jegora slowly stalked over to where he was sitting at a desk. Jegora’s face was a steel mask, but his eyes shone with fury. The smaller man was looking down at a vidscreen as Jegora approached. When Jegora stood over him the smaller man looked up.

“Look, we told you-,” the man began, but he never got a chance to finish. Jegora ripped the vidscreen out of his hands and threw it against a wall. Then he grabbed the smaller man around the middle and lifted him out of his chair, and tossed him out of the way. Jegora then crossed to the door leading to the command deck, where he was confronted with the other MP. Jegora let out a wicked grin; the MP just looked on stoically.

The MP tried to reason with Jegora. “Look here, kid, you just leave now and I’ll forget anything ever happened,” he said.

Jegora just snarled. “Move aside. I need on the bridge,” he said.

The MP shook his head. “No can do. Captain says no one gets on at the moment. Return to your cabin,” he said.

Flashing another wicked grin, Jegora lunged at the MP. Suddenly, something hit him in the side, some sort of electrical charge that coursed through his body. He never even felt himself make contact with the big MP…

***

Jegora opened his eyes slowly. He didn’t know where he was, or how he had gotten there, but he figured it couldn’t be good.

Groaning, Jegora turned his head, only to see Gshlecc in the bed next to him. Blinking his eyes in disbelief, Jegora saw that the older man was awake.

“What happened?” Jegora asked.

The older man shook his head. “I’m not sure. Some kind of explosion, and apparently you went crazy and got stunned.”

Jegora groaned. It felt like he had been beat with a two by four. Shaking his head, Jegora looked around the room. Roth was on his other side, and Rogue was on the other side of him. Both were asleep. He could see Rusty in an oversized be in the corner.

Fearing the answer, he asked a question. “Is this all that survived?” he said cautiously.

Gshlecc let out a sigh. “I’m not sure. They shipped the rest off to a medical ship a while ago…I don’t know who survived...or who didn’t. I just don’t know…” he trailed off.

Jegora took a deep breath and closed his eyes, turning his face back towards the ceiling. How did a catastrophe like this happen? Things were going so well…and then this.

He just couldn’t believe that the entire squadron was gone.

OOC:

1057 words. Mission complete. Outcome: Partial victory with heavy losses. We kicked em out of the system, but we lost a great deal in this battle.