After leaving the briefing room Chak wondered what to do in his spare time. Five hours to kill is quite awhile. When he reached the barracks he threw himself on to his bunk and thought about the mission Sounds very routine. Something that droid starfighters could do& maybe they are expecting something.

After wasting time not being able to sleep he decided to go to the mess hall. After waiting in line and picking up a piece of muja fruit he sat down at an empty table. Just when he was about to leave Raigen came and sit down next to him.

"Hey dude, what's up?" He asked as he sat down with nothing on a tray except for a glass of water.

"Oh nothing much sir, just trying to kill some time before we leave that's all."

"Dude, promise me one thing. Don't call me sir I'm older then you!" Before Chak could say anything else he continued, "Also seeing as you are my wingman, I hope you got good reflexes cause I like to fly a bit& spontaneously."

Before Chak could reply he said, "I'll see you in the hangar bay later." Then he stood up and walked away.

After a few more minutes of just sitting down Chak looked down at his chrono, Oh great, still got four hours to kill. He walked out of the mess hall and wandered back to his barracks. Finding it empty he went to his chess took out his flight suit and went to the 'fresher to go change. After coming out he picked up his helmet and a small hold-out blaster pistol and headed towards the hangar bay. When he identified his TIE interceptor he opened the cockpit and got in. After getting in he took the blaster and fastened it under his seat with a strip of duck tape from his suit pocket and used it to fasten the blaster under is seat.

Once that was done he ran a systems check and found that the mechanics hadn't gotten to his fighter yet. Well privileges of the higher ranks, I suppose. After the check he found that one of the stabilisers was loose. After finding a hydrospanner he went about fixing it up.

 
-----------------------
FM/LCRW Chak Fel/Nazgul 3-10/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE (=A=)

The time until the launch off of the Atrus was quickly dwindling.  Within an hour the Atrus would pull out of hyperspace just above Dastoria, but only for a matter of time, because there was a small window of opportunity before the leaders of both sides of the Civil War aboard the planet found about about the the VE arriving.  15 minutes after arriving at the planet, the Lambda Class Shuttle On a Whim would carry the pilots to an allied hanger on the planet.  From there, the pilots would launch and fly with the 6 Transport Class Shuttles towards the rally point.

Jaden had just exited his office and was now making his way towards the squadrons exit hanger, Hanger Bay 112.  Jaden had already suited up in his flight suit and was carrying his helmet on hand.

While walking, Jaden started to take something into consideration.  He was now nearly 29 years old.  He couldn't call himself very young anymore, but he was much older than most of the pilots in the squadron.  He had been with the Vast Empire for nearly 8 years; surving a handful and more of missions.  Though he had taken a lot of damage from some of them, he was still able to fly like the ace he was.

Jaden arrived in the hanger within a couple of minutes, noting that the new additions to the squadron were mingling around one of the techs workshops in the area.  Four new pilots, well, not necessarily new from what he was told and from the reports he read, but they all checked out and seemed eager enough to join.

As Jaden approached them, they all came to a casual salute.

Jaden saluted and lowered his arm fashionably.

"At ease," he said, respectively.  "I'm your squadron commander, 2nd Lieutenant Jaden Khaar.  It's nice to have new blood in the squadron.  I have your squadron assignments right here on my datapad, and I'll read them off for you now," said Jaden

"Warrant Officer First Class Ninad Granite, you're going to be the Flight three leader, with your sister, Chief Petty Officer Daniel Granite as your wingman.  Master Chief Petty Officer Rober Zrars, you're going to be taking the Nazgul 10 position with miss P02 Carly Heruyl as your wingman," said Jaden

Then all seemed ready for the mission.  Jaden could note that the two youngest pilots, the Granite Twins, brother and sister, were the most ambitious.  Carly was in her mid Twenties, with long blond hair, matching her beautiful green eyes, and standing along with the group was Robert, a man in his mid Thirties.  Jaden could sense the wear and tear of war from the man.  He had been through hell in his time, no doubt.

"Alright, the shuttle should be here in nearly an hour.  Like I said, glad to have you guys with us," said Jaden, with a final salute.

A message came over the loudspeakers.

"Nazgul Squadron members, 1 Hour till Launch.  Report to your destination in 1 hour for launch"
 
-----------------------
Jaden Khaar
NazgulSquadron
Naval Academy Executive Officer
Commander of Nazgul Squadron
-----------------------------------------------------------
SC/ESN Jaden Khaar/Nazgul 1-1 (Nazgul 1)/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) (*=TE=*) [VC:S][LSM][SV][CBV](x2)[GWC]
-----------------------------------------------------------
TXO/ESN Jaden Khaar/Venom 1-2 (Venom 2)/Phoenix Wing/Platform Saratoga/DEF/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) (*=TE=*) [VC:S][LSM][SV][CBV](x2)[GWC]

Ensign Robert "Chipmunk Man" Henderson sat in the lounge, sipping a cup of cafe. He was rather annoyed that they hadn't had his usual SunDrop soda; it was getting harder and harder these days to find his favorite drink. So instead he had been relegated to his second favorite. The pungent warmth of the drink, and the caffeine, worked its way into his system. Looking about the room, he waved to the server droid and ordered a second cup.

The room still had a few of the Nazgul pilots in various booths, though most had gone off to suit up. Chip had already squared away his pilot pack with various emergency supplies, and would be affixing it to his ejector seat once he arrived in the hangar. It didn't take too long to do, so he wasn't in much of a rush to finish. He has recently returned from a semi-secretive trip to Corellia to deal with some old internal demons; secretive because Corellia was still rebel-controlled territory, and the New Republic would not have been pleased about the idea of an Imperial officer strolling onto the planet. Thinking about it made him sigh and his shoulders to sag again. It hadn't been what one might call a 'happy vacation.' Sarah's parents had not been exceedingly welcoming. But Chip couldn't blame them that much in such regards. Her father had understood more, and her mother had been kind enough to give directions to the cemetery, but beyond that they had been much happier upon his departure than on his arrival.

It would be interesting flying for Nazgul as a flight member, though having checked the roster earlier in the day he was a bit concerned at the lack of a wingman. Well, at least they were still in Interceptors. Heh, Chip's preferred craft. Quick and agile. Just so long as they didn't have to do any atmospheric flying, the bane of his existence. Atmospheric brought back some rather poor memories. And Chip now carried his shotgun in his pilot pack as a direct result of said memories. But, eh. On to other thoughts, eh? He strolled down the hall, making his way to the assembly. Third Flight was gathered. It was quite amusing to see a pair of twins flying wing for each other, not to mention the fact that Chip unconsciously raised an eyebrow at PO2 Heruyl. Well.

He grabbed a seat while waiting for the rest, and absently ran his fingers over the ring that he kept on the chain around his neck...

-----------------------
FM/ESN Chipmunk Man/Nazgul 4/Phoenix/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)(=SA=)(=*MA*=)[LoC][MC:1]x3[LSM][VC:B]

"I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking, 'Did he fire six shots, or only five?' Well to tell you the truth, I've forgotten myself in all this excitement. But being this is a .44 magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and will blow your head clean off, you need to ask youself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya? Punk!"
-"Dirty" Harry Callahan

"Mr. Stratford, it's just a party..."
*wags finger* "...And Hell is just a sauna."

(Hope I didn't contradict anyone's posts. Tell me if I did so I can change it.)

Raigen still had thoughts about going back to smuggling, back to a time before the VE, before the RDA and just hopping on the first job that came to him, but such thoughts were short lived. Missions helped to keep him from drifting. His reckless embarkments had become fewer and father apart in the last few weeks. Since the cruiser boarding, he had urged for the thrill of air combat. That was how it went. Doing one thing, he longed to do the other. Doing the other, he longed for the first. Which is why Raigen never stayed put for too long. Something bigger and better would always call him. Whether or not the Empire was the last calling, he didn't know. But he would stay on this flight till it ran out of gas and another one stopped to pick him up.

The simulators were near full and Raigen had to shake the recruits off with a stick to get two open ones for Chak and him. They flew a routine mission, above a virtual Coruscant against a squadron of X-Wings. In the simulators, you could fly and prepare for battle all you wanted, but no computer came close to the real thing, to actual flight combat. Raigen wondered why he bothered as he shook off another computer generated snub and pulled in behind it. It was over before it started. It was always over before it started. Raigen wondered if there really was a predetermined plan for the universe, if his actions were already set in the cosmos. A spacer never lingered near those kinds of thoughts. They had one god, which they worshiped and relied on twenty fold. And a good god Luck was. Though he was unpredictable and unreliable, he could always be trusted to be there.

The corridors of the Atrus were busier than usual. The fluctuating recruiting quotas had spiked upward recently, resulting in an overflow of new recruits who had just finished training. Raigen knew that they had picked up four new pilots from various other squadrons as well as his old squadron commander Chip. While he was glad to have more members, he was sore that he was now the second lowest ranking pilot in the squadron. Attribute to his crashes and arrogance he supposed. That or they know I'm just seventeen! Raigen thought. He was getting older...day by day, but his youth compared to the rest of the Navy bothered him. He had started flying early, had as much experience if not more than some of the veteran pilots, why shouldn't he be here? The age limit on the Navy wasn't what was bothering him, only a target for his compiled stress.

Raigen passed by the corridor leading to Nazgul barracks; Hunter and Chip were exchanging greetings. It sent his mind back, to when he was a bit more eager to be a pilot than he was now. The first mission, he didn't even get to fly. He couldn't look Hunter dead in the eyes anymore, the guilt came and went but Hunter's eyes and Gemini's life never would. He could kill NR pilots and CS soldiers, even overcame a period in which his moral ethics kept him from fighting to his killer potential, but he couldn't be the cause of someone else's misfortune. Raigen held sole responsibility for the failure of that mission, the loss of the capital ship they were tracking, blowing of the squadron's cover, drawing attention to the squadron, getting Gemini captured, leaving Hunter in the alley, and not getting to them fast enough. How much guilt would he put upon himself until he let that mission go? Never, It's my fault, my burden. I'll carry it to my grave. Raigen passed the corridor without talking to Chip or Hunter.

Raigen wasn't doing anything unusual, only acting it. Once he started thinking about smuggling, the rest of the stress all falls down in one blow. He had entered the simulators cheerful and anxious for the next mission, and left rather antisocially. The behavior kept regressing as he kept thinking, by the time he got the memoirs of his first mission out of his mind, even the sight of him could depress the most upbeat. He didn't have much time left until they were to be hanger; using one of his older flight suits still in the Aegis barracks(away from the rest of the squadron) Raigen suited up and headed for the designated hanger.

Here we go again...


-----------------------
[Aegis][Nazgul]
FM/SCRW Raigen/Nazgul 2-3/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE(=*A*=)[VC:B]
[Red Dragon Order]
CC CO SC/SMar Raigen Tei-Yehn/Task Force 1/Eta Squad/2nd Platoon/Red Company/1st Battalion/KBcC Helsa/OFF/Army/RDA(O)

Trevor's TIE performed a series of acrobatic moves trying to evade the glowing blue missile that had situated itself behind him. Luck was on his side, and he managed to shake the missile. To his dismay, as he came out of an inverse innalman he found himself at a horrible angle streaking towards the ground. In a drastic attempt to pull up he cut his throttle and applied the repulsors (in an attempt to brake) as he pulled back on the yoke, hoping to decrease the amount of time it'd take him to pull up. Tragically, he had performed the maneuver to close to the ground and his attempts were futile, the TIE's front lower wingtips clipping the ground and ripping the bottom sections of the wings off. This caused a loss of stability in the fighter, spinning sideways and catching the upper wing on the ground. Where luck had managed to help his was with his repulsors having slowed the TIE down to an ok speed. The wings disintegrated and the cockpit ball slid to a stop.

Trevor slammed his fist against the control panel of the simulator as a message flashed in red in front of him:

Crash Survivability: 85%. Serious Injury Chance: 60%.

One of the pilots he had been flying against from the other team stuck his head into Trevor's simulator. The man was of average height and had a cocky grin across his face.

"Guess you shouldn't have tried something that fancy. Now you're dead. I guess when you're the last one left on your team you get desperate." The man said with a laugh, punching Trevor in the arm. Trevor's face went to one of disagreement.

"Nuh uh! It says here that I'm still 85% alive and only 60% hurt. I win, sucker." Trevor replied with a laugh of his own, pointing to the screen that was still flashing. A moment later the screen erupted in a flash of yellow-white and when the flash faded all that Trevor could see was the black, carbon burned crater where his TIE cockpit had sat. A new message flashed across the screen.

Missile Detonation. Survivability: 0%.

"I guess we win now." The other man replied with a shrug. Trevor frowned at the screen before exiting the match and slipping out of the other side of the simulator. He walked around to the other side and patted the man on the shoulder.

"Good job Matt. If you could fly like that in real life you could get this sad excuse for a soldier into a TIE. We need s'more new guys." Trevor told him, and Matt smiled back, slapping Trevor on the shoulder with a hand that was twice the size of Trevor's.

"You know they don't make XXL TIEs."

"Even if they did, they'd have to produce one with a few more X's in it if you wanted to fly." With Trevor's comment, the two men laughed and the larger, Matt went to slap Trevor's shoulder again; but Trevor stepped out of the way. "You know that hurts."

"Yeah, I know. Not my fault you're a twig." The 6'11", 320 pound Matt replied. He was an incredibly large and intimidating man, hardly showing an ounce of fat. Trevor always feared that at some point his friend may decide to high-five him and force his whole arm farther back then it should go. Instead Matt preferred to simply shatter his upper arm every time.

"Well, I have to get going. Time to head out. The guys managed to convince some higher-ups to let us fly to our first meeting point rather than be shuttled in." Trevor told Matt as he picked up his duffle bag and grinned.

"Alright, we'll see you around. We need a rematch sometime, flyboy." Matt replied, shaking Trevor's hand with a firmness that almost crushed his hand.

"Sure thing." Trevor replied and then with a wave of his hand to the rest of the men he had just played against, he vanished through the door and down the hall. He had to quickly stop at his quarters to pick up a few minor things he might need, as well as some stuff to keep him occupied during the 24 hour flight. Most of the time they'd be in hyperspace, but it would still be nice to have some reading material or a holo-vid or two. He stopped in front of his door and slid it open, revealing the mess that was his room. He tossed the duffle bag down on the bed and threw a few holo-vid chips into it, as well as a player and a pair of 'out-of-date' paper books.

He was about to zip up the duffle bag when he remembered something and strode across his room. His hand reached out to a dresser and pulled a faded and slightly tattered blue book off it. The front was covered with doodling, a few stars and hearts, some with what he recognized to be his initials inside them. In a few places the paper cover had small splash marks on it where it appeared that droplets of water had fallen. He knew these to be Tokijin's tears as they say goodbyes earlier that day when he had left her to board the Doashim.

He had gone back to find her after the meeting but had found her nowhere in sight, assuming she had already been shown aboard.

He carefully set the book on top of the rest of his gear and zipped the duffle bag. He gave one last look about the room, knowing it could very well be his last, and made his way for the door. With one quick sweep of his hand he snatched his data pad from the dresser and shoved it in his pocket, incase he had time to send Tokijin a message to make sure she was doing alright so far, and to see if the guy he had talk to had found her or not.

He slid the door closed behind him and locked it on the access pad, making sure no one would legally be able to get in an view his belongings, aside from administration who had all codes stored away in a database. Why they may need to search my room, I have no idea. He thought to himself as he walked away, headed towards the hanger.

*** A While Later ***

After a while of walking Trevor entered the hanger. He was greeted by a vast variety of things he recognized: from the slightly burnt oil smell which he had learned to love, to the smell of the fuel; another smell he enjoyed. A quick scan of the hanger showed that he was one of the last to make his way there. He could see the other pilots milling around the TIEs, a few heckling the techs about something. He picked out Raigen and Chak chatting about something, while Darius was making final adjustments inside his TIE. Jaden and Chip were catching up on things, and some of the new additions were chatting in their own little group.

He made his way over to his own TIE and dropped the bag in from the catwalk above the docking claw. He then climbed into the cockpit and began doing a pre flight check. Once he was sure everything was green he tossed his clipboard under the seat and gave the glass ahead of him a tap. Not to long ago he had had the glass crack on him during a mission, causing him to have to be shuttled back to their home ship for that mission. That was before Jen had been put into reserves due to medical condition. He had heard rumors that she had been slightly active for a while, but when he questions Shazam about it Shazam quickly debunked the rumor.

A few other minor checks of things that weren't included on the checklist and he pulled himself out. More then once he had had some mechanical failure that had almost cost him his life. Once a coolant tube had melted and caused the cockpit to overheat. He had suffered a serve form of heat stroke and had been hospitalized for over 3 days. That had been when he had found out that Toki cared for him as much as she did.

Putting thoughts of Tokijin to the back of his mind, he climbed down a ladder from the catwalk and made his way to Jaden. He nodded to Chip but faced Jaden.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering how long it would be till we leave?" Trevor asked. He knew it was something like 15 minutes, but normally with only 15 minutes to go everyone would be in their TIEs and doing last minute checks. He noticed that one of the new pilots had not even suited up yet.

"Well, we were supposed to be leaving in 15 minutes, but we've been bumped back to a half hour. I'll let everyone know to get suited up and ready to go. You go do some communications checks, make sure everyone's radios are working." Jaden told him, and Trevor nodded. He turned on his heel and made his way back up the ladder. He dropped down once again in his TIE and could see Jaden hurrying everyone off to their TIEs or to get suited up. It would be a long and quiet wait from here on in, even though it would only be 30 minutes. Trevor ran a quick comm check with the tower, who relayed to him that all the other pilot's communication's gear was working fine.

*** 30 Minutes Later ***

"Nazgul One here, all report in please." Jaden said over the comm. Now came the role call.

"Nazgul Two, I'm ready to go." Trevor told him. This was the earliest in the role call that Trevor had had to speak. Before he had been Nazgul 3, but that was a long time ago.

"Nazgul Three here. I'm good to fly." Chipmunk told them clearly, his TIE running as perfectly as could be.

"Nazgul Five." Was all Darius said. He was a man of few words, Trevor had to give him that much.

"Nazgul Six, I'm here." Hunter said. This was someone Trevor knew little about. He had been brought in from Aegis before they were closed, and this would be his first time flying with Hunter.

"Nazgul Seven, lets ride." Chak said, sounding fairly enthusiastic about a simple escort mission.

"Nazgul Eight, I'm set." Raigen told them, his voice sounding as confident as ever. It was one thing Trevor worried about Raigen because of, he seemed incredibly confident in his skills.

Trevor almost ignored the rest of the role call, knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about names. Most of the new members would be transferred out following the mission, seeing as it happened in Nazgul a lot. They rarely got new people who stayed, and those who did never left. Trevor had been in Nazgul his entire career, and it was something he was proud of.

"Alright Nazgul Squadron, you're given clearance to leave." The man in the tower told them. In unison the engines and repulsors whined to life, followed by the slight grinding noise the claws made when they released the fighters. The pilots skillfully moved the TIEs across the hanger and out the exit in good order.

"Once you are clear of the Atrus, place the following co-ordinates into your nav computers and jump. We'll be in hyperspace for approximately 24 hours, so I hope you brought entertainment. The comm units on our TIEs don't work during the jump, so it will be radio silence." Jaden explained as he transmitted the co-ordinates to everyone in the squadron. After another minute he jumped, followed by Trevor and the rest of the squadron.

"Here we go.." Trevor thought as the space around him converged into blue and white lines. He felt a slight sensation throughout his body at the increase in speed, but it disappeared quickly and he removed his helmet. Normally not something a TIE pilot would do, but VE TIEs happened to have been upgraded with life support systems, as well as shielding and missiles. The TIEs they were currently flying also had been upgraded with hyper drives, making them a rare group of TIEs, even within the VE.

Trevor sat back into his seat and began to relax as he took out his holo-vid chip player and pressed one of the video chips into the slot. After a moment and a quick adjustment to the display, he had an action movie playing only a few feet away from him.

Time to relax... He thought to himself.

 
-----------------------
XO/MCPO/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 9(3-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][SWC][LSM]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

***Still in the hangar bay***

Chip and Jaden stood talking for a while, each with a can of Chip's carefully hoarded SunDrop in hand. Chip smiled inwardly at the sweet citrus taste. Ahhh, nothing like this in the galaxy. Why so few others seemed not to appreciate its glory was beyond his comprehension.

Jaden took a quick swig before softly asking, "So how did the trip go?"

Chip swirled his drink can. "Eh. Missed this place more than anything else. But it had to be done, else I probably would have gone nuts eventually. Her dad is ex-military, and flies civilian passenger-liners now, so we got along alright. Her sister is kinda wacko though. The hardest was visting the uh... her, uh... well..." He waved his can futilely in the air at his frustration over words. Jaden nodded understandingly.

"You alright for this?"

"Yeah, just makes me want to kill rebels all the more. I know this is just supposed to be some escort thing right? But I'm hoping for some action anyway."

Jaden chuckled. "Routine escort would be fine by me."

"Heh, yeah, I can imagine."

Jaden tossed away the empty drink can. "Well, I'm off. Got to take care of some things."

Chip nodded. "Roger that. I'll see you up there."

"Yup, take care."

Chip sighed, tilted off the last of his soda, and pulled out a book and his music player thing-a-ma-jig. He hadn't bothered spending the money for one of the more fancier models, which occasionally made finding the particular song he wanted a little more time-consuming as he scrolled through one song at a time, but eventually he found it and settled in to kill some time before they left. Ah, nothing like some good redneck music and a historical novel...
 
-----------------------
FM/ESN Chipmunk Man/Nazgul 4/Phoenix/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)(=SA=)(=*MA*=)[LoC][MC:1]x3[LSM][VC:B]

"I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking, 'Did he fire six shots, or only five?' Well to tell you the truth, I've forgotten myself in all this excitement. But being this is a .44 magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and will blow your head clean off, you need to ask youself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya? Punk!"
-"Dirty" Harry Callahan

"Mr. Stratford, it's just a party..."
*wags finger* "...And Hell is just a sauna."

Trevor had finished watching both of his holo-vid and had started reading one of the books he had brought along. So far it was fairly interesting, but he wasn't in the mood for reading at the moment. He closed the book and set it back into the duffle bag, and on his way back to a sitting position he grabbed a blue covered sketchbook covered in doodles. It was Toki's old sketchbook, and he noticed that amongst the doodles were a few hearts with what he recognized to be his initials in them. He flipped the book open and looked down at the first page. On it was the landscape of a marshy planet, one that he did not recognize. There were about 10 pages of landscapes that he flipped through before finding a few drawings of crewmembers doing various things at workbenches. He stopped on a page that had a picture of a TIE on it. He recognized that the date was very close to the same date that Tokijin had been placed in Nazgul, and she must have been drawing the TIE to help calm her nerves before the mission. Too bad that doesn't work for her anymore though& He thought to himself as he thumbed through a few more pages of crewmembers. He stopped once more when he found a picture of a half finished flower. He remembered this, as Toki had been drawing it while they were on vacation. She had cut the drawing short though when cute alien monsters had attacked the camp. It still looks good for being only half done... He thought to himself.

After the flower he found a bunch of pages, all seeming to contain the same two people doing 'couple-y' things. She had not drawn faces on the two, but he had a pretty good guess as to who the couple was. A smile crossed his face as he closed the book, setting it down inside the duffle bag. A quick look at his chrono told him that he had been flying for 6 hours already, with a whole 18 more to go. He sighed and picked up the book he had started earlier and began to read that.

*** 17 Hours Later ***

Trevor woke up to the loud beeping of his chrono. He had set the timer for 17 hours, enough for him to read and get in a good 10 or 12 hours worth of sleep. He had woken up to find his book sitting tent-like on the cockpit floor and his mouth dry from sleeping with it open. He closed his mouth and swallowed a few times before looking around the cabin. A few lights were flashing on and off, but nothing was out of the ordinary. He had one hour to spare between the time he woke up and the time his craft would be reverting to real-space, an amount of time that allowed him to be able to check over his basic equipment and prepare to be able to land.

His readouts showed that the entire squadron had managed to squeeze their way through a small hole in the asteroid cloud that was keeping the larger ships away, and that within about 45 minutes they would be able to revert. A minor course adjustment by the nav computers in the TIEs had saved them fifteen minutes. Not bad I suppose. 15 less minutes of me having to put up with the fact that my butt has fallen asleep. He thought to himself as he threw his stuff into his duffle bag and zipped it up.

*** 45 Minutes Later ***

Trevor calmly put his helmet back on his head and made sure everything was properly connected to it before manually taking his craft out of hyperspace. He preferred to do this manually, complaining that the automated computer's control resulted in a rather rough and violent ride. He watched carefully as the space outside his craft slowly turned from a blue swirling vortex to twisted lines. These then slowed and became individual stars, each twinkling around the planet that was ahead of them. He checked his aft view port and saw the rest of the squadron slip out of hyperspace, some of the fighters bouncing around terribly as if shaken about by an unseen hand.

"Everyone report in. I want to make sure we didn't lose anyone." Jaden said over the comm. Trevor called, followed by the rest of the squadron. Nobody had had any difficulty, although Nazgul 12 had been complaining about being woken up by the revert. "Alright, good. We're going to be entering the atmosphere in a minute or two, so be ready to activate your braking flaps. We don't need anyone exploding before we even get shot at.

"Although they are currently in a civil war, we have been given clearance to fly straight through to the hanger, where we will spend approximately 4 hours. Our flight time has been moved forward as the leaders of this planet want us gone ASAP. Take this time to prepare yourselves and your fighters. Get some rest once we land." Jaden explained to them. Trevor nodded and a few 'I copy's came in over the comm., but it was just the newer members still following procedure.

A bump as well as a warning light caused Trevor to realize that he was entering the atmosphere a bit faster then he should have been. He flipped out the air brake flaps, but not before the very tips of his wings had began to glow red hot from the friction caused by the air particles in the atmosphere. The ship lurched violently as the air flaps engaged, and he felt one side slip forward.

"I've lost my aft port air brake." Trevor calmly said over the comm., quickly adjusting his throttle as well as the aft starboard flap. If he lowered it he could straighten the craft out, as well as slow himself down by cutting the throttle. Most of the other pilots had been paying more attention, and he cursed himself quietly for not. He was carefully watching his displays when he felt another bump and his craft straightened out on its own. "Damn it! There goes the starboard aft as well."

"You're going in too fast Trevor." Jaden told him. "You've gotta do something so slow down." He continued, his own craft slowing down in textbook fashion. Trevor nodded, even though Jaden could not see him, and decided to try something else. With his throttle all the way off, the engines were not producing any thrust. Because of this, he cold flip the fighter around and side to side without losing his forward momentum, although if he were to try and turn sideways the fighter could end up rolling uncontrollably through the atmosphere.

"Alright, here goes nothing." Trevor said to himself, knowing full well that if he messed up even slightly, the craft could tear itself apart or go flipping uncontrollably towards the ground. He pulled back hard on the control yoke, causing the craft to flip one hundred and eighty degrees. As soon as he was upside down and facing the opposite direction he had been, he slowly eased on the throttle. If he pushed it too hard he was bound to damage something from the sudden reverse thrust, but with the slight increase the fighter would only slow down until it was at a decent speed.

He relaxed as he saw his speed decreasing, thanks to both the brake flaps and his reverse thrust. Once he reached an acceptable speed, he flipped the fighter the rest of the way around and formed up on Jaden's wing. From their current height he could see an explosion go off in a city off to the starboard side, and ahead of him he caught sight of what appeared to be a ground battle taking place.

"This place is a bit torn up, no?" Trevor said, watching the battle from the sky. The combatants appeared to be ants from his height, and he had to wonder if that's what the fights their glorious army division fought in looked like.

"Ah, its worse on the other side I'm told. Most of the cities around here are major, so they are trying to keep from destroying them." Jaden explained on the open channel so that everyone else could hear him. "Our hanger is just up ahead."

The group of pilots steered their fighters towards a large red and gray building with an insignia on it that none of them recognized. Trevor assumed that it had been the insignia of the planet's government before the civil war, when the planet was still united. Jaden sent in their clearance and Trevor could see the wall of the building slide itself open. Inside there were no landing claws, so the pilots would have to very, very carefully land their fighters on the wings.

Although a TIE is not designed to land on the wings, the pylons and wings are built strong enough to support the TIE incase of an emergency landing. This would have to be the case for today, without the regular docking claws for the TIEs.

*** After Docking ***

After Trevor had docked and secured his TIE, he pulled himself out of the cockpit and dropped dangerously to the ground. He hit and crumpled but jumped back up, getting a few weird looks from the nearby techs. He shrugged and sprinted over to Jaden. Jaden was already talking to someone from the base, which Trevor assumed to be the man in charge.

"Oh, Commander. This is my XO, Trevor Evenson." Jaden said, and Trevor stood up straight, issuing a salute to the base commander. The commander returned the salute and grinned.

"It's good to see someone so young so well disciplined. My name is Gar'elth, just Gar for short. You can call me that, or sir, or Commander. It doesn't really matter which you choose, I'm not a very formal person." Gar'elth said.

"If you say so." Trevor replied, nodding.

"So you will be here for about four hours. Well, feel free to explore the base, and enjoy the refreshments we have available." The commander told Jaden and Trevor. The two pilots nodded and each shook hands with the commander before he turned and walked away.

"Well, shall we find something to drink?" Jaden asked Trevor.

"No thanks, I'm going to send Tokijin a message and then I'll come find you guys. I'm sure they've got a cantina around here. Maybe we can have a quick meeting before we head out, just to help the new pilots feel at home?" Trevor suggested. Jaden nodded and slapped Trevor on the shoulder, then turned and waved his arms to the rest of the pilots, hollering something about the first round. While they all made their way out of the hanger, Trevor sat down against one of the still warm wings of his TIE and took out his data pad.

 
-----------------------
XO/MCPO/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 9(3-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][SWC][LSM]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Darius hated long hyperspace flights in starfighters.  In fact, hate wasn't even a strong enough word to describe his feeling.  He felt useless and helpless, causing him to be quite restless and jumpy.  There were no communications with the other pilots, just yourself, which Darius didn't always mind, but he is more social now than he was when he first entered the Nazgul squadron.

In order to pass the time away, he organized, unpacked, repacked, organized again, and then reorganized his mission pack, just to pass the time.  He was the only member in the squadron that carried such an...extensive amount of "tools".  Generally, he carried enough weaponry to arm each member of the squadron at least once, and enough rations to last him a month, or the squadron a week.

Eventually, he grew tired to the point where sleep became possible.  He placed his helmet back on his head, sealed it to keep the noises of the fighter out, and dozed off into the comfort of sleep.

***********

The only force that brought Darius out of his deep slumber was he jolt of the starfight reverting itself back to realspace.  His noise proof armor that he wore at all times had blocked the klaxon of the alarm.  He immediately turned the noise back on and began the preparations to enter the atmosphere and land in very unstable territory. 

Darius was not too thrilled stopping at a planet that was enduring a civil war.  He's had experiences in his past that when a neutral party enters a warzone, mistakes tend to happen.  The young Imperial was not willing to risk the lives of his flight to refuel at such a place, but he didn't have much choice: orders.

He switched to a closed channel with his flight after the planet had given landing clearance and coordinates.  "All right gentlemen, keep a sharp eye and watch your six.  We're entering as a neutral party and we don't need to provoke any of the combatants show us unwanted hospitality.  Are we clear on what I'm saying?"

"Roger that," Hunter chimed.

"Got it five," Raigen said next.

"I'll take note of it leader," Chak reported, finishing off the role call.

"Good," Darius said quickly and returned back to the regular channel.  When he returned, Trevor was having problems enter the atmosphere, so he dropped back while the rest of his flight zoomed to the hanger.  Once Trevor had regained control and minimized his speed,  Darius caught back up with his flight and waited for them all to land in the hanger.

The sight of the war that brewed on the planet did not bother Darius.  They seemed to be more worried shooting each other instead of taking pot shots at his fellow flight members.  The scene was quite familiar with him, considering his background.  To Darius, it appeared that neither side was winning, but stuck in a wasteful slaughter of young beings squabling to prove their side is right and the other needs to change.

Darius smiled at his thought...it was no different with the Empire verse the New Republic, or factions within the Empire waging war against each other.

*********

With gentle precision hewn into Darius mind from years of training, he gently set his TIE Interceptor down on the hanger floor and grabbed his E-11 and mission pack.  A thrust of his palm and the hatch flew open.  The former mercenary burst out of the top and scanned the hanger.  Trevor was talking to one of the hanger personel and the rest of the squadron was emerging from their own TIEs and stretching after a long journey.  Darius took one last scan and relaxed.
 
-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
-----------------------
FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

Trevor had sent a message to Tokijin letting her know that he had arrived safely and that step one of the mission was complete. After he hit 'send' he made his way to the cantina in search of the rest of his squadron. Aside from a few techs, the cantina was devoid of life. There was a single notable group in one corner though, that Trevor recognized as Nazgul. He could see that the twins were being informed of their duties and what they should expect in a Real-Time combat situation, but Trevor ha to feel that they wouldn't be experiencing one with Nazgul. Most of the time those who were placed into Nazgul were transferred out just as quickly, and only rarely did someone manage to stay for more than a mission. Nazgul always seemed to find itself in a difficult situation and those who survived the dangers usually asked to be transferred into safer regions of VE space.

He pushed the thoughts of that out of his mind and made his way over to the booth, grabbing a chair from one of the nearby tables and flopping down in it near the rest of his coworkers. Nobody really acknowledged his arrival aside from a slightly pretty waitress who took his order for a drink. Only after looking at the wall clock above the booth did he realize that they were on time and had managed to kill two hours already. He took a second to gather his thoughts and the mission, and then after making eye contact with Jaden, he broke up the discussion about home worlds that was circling the table.

"I think it would be wise for me and Jaden to remind everyone here that it would be unwise to be consuming to many spirits before we have to fly again." Trevor said in an overly serious tone while looking at the face of each pilot. Jaden and Darius were the only pilots not to look at Trevor slightly confused, both of them knowing the little joke he was playing on the rest of the squadron. Jaden was first to break the silence.

"I'm going to jump in and take a guess here, but I think Trevor means not to get wasted off your asses before we have to fly. No matter how boring the mission is going to be." He explained, finishing with a laugh. The rest of the group quickly clued in that Trevor didn't really have anything important to say, but was rather just pointing out that he had in fact sat down and was there.

"Yeah, that's what I meant. The point is, ladies and gentlemen, that we only have another two hours before we are sent off to guard some shipment of things that we have no clue about." Trevor informed them, pointing to the clock on the wall. "So my suggestion is to hold back on the ale for a while and sober up."

He received a bunch of nods from those around the table, and he was about to tell them 'Good' when his own glass of frothy Corillian Ale was placed on the table in front of them. He merely shrugged and tipped back the drink, downing a quarter of its contents before setting it back on the table and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

*** An Hour and a Half Later ***

Trevor stretched back in his chair and took in a deep breath of the heavily scented cantina air. The smell of a hundred different drinks combined with the grease and oil odor merged in the air, thickening it almost to the point where it seemed as if it helped to dull the Cantina's lights. After sitting in it for an hour, Trevor had come to realize that it was for more dingy then initially appearing. It ad a layer of dust on the tables at least a quarter of an inch thick, the glasses had been long etched with a layer of impenetrable grime, and the floor was covered in mud and dirt. He had spent the last five minutes trying to dig through the layer of dirt on the floor, looking for the original tile, but was yet to come up with anything. At last Jaden decided it was time to get everyone out and going through his or her pre flight checks.

"Alright everybody, I want to see you all in the hanger within the next five minutes running over every detail of your machines. I don't want any tech-heckling, we don't need them throwing a wrench in the gears if you know what I mean." Jaden explained, pushing his glass away from him towards the center of the table. The group of pilots nodded and began making their way out of the booth, Trevor sticking back for a moment. As he had began to stand up Jaden had given him a wave, telling him to wait.

"Yes sir?" Trevor asked, slouching slightly in his chair to achieve a more comfortable position.

"What do you think of this whole mission?" Jaden asked him, folding his hands in front of him and resting them on the table.

"Well, I think it's purely routine. We get sent down to escort because our ships aren't allowed into the space surrounding the planet. We meet up with the convoy, escort them for three hours, and then head home." Trevor replied, standing up and pushing his seat out from behind him.

"Yeah, that's true." Jaden said, sliding out from behind the booth and walking around to slap Trevor on the shoulder. "It's good to be flying with you again. The last time I remember was when we both crash landed and had to borrow us a pair of NR fighters." Jaden reminded him with a laugh.

"I think you're right about that. Let's hope we're not running around this time trying to find ourselves something like that again." Trevor replied with a laugh as the two made their way out of the cantina towards the hanger. It was a short walk, hardly two minutes, and they found themselves back in the greasy, grimy workplace of close to 75 techs. The place reminded Trevor of a classic fighter restoration shop he had visited once after leaving the NR. Piles of tools sat neglected in corners, while fuel containers and hoses were rusting and draped over whatever was nearest.

The ascent into the fighters was now easier seeing as a bunch of yellow rolling entrance ladders had been placed in front of the fighters so the pilots could climb and enter rather than having to acrobatically swing their way from the pylon into the cockpit. Trevor as well as the other pilots made their way into the cockpits and began checking over the basic pre-flight things. Communications, engines, stabilizers, accelerators and brakes, the nozzles that were used to direct the flow of the engines and act as a 'rudder' of sorts, as well as other minor but important functions.

The group did not have any problems with their pre-flight checks and shortly before the 4-hour mark they were given clearance for lift off. After the sign in, Trevor fired up the engine to his TIE and buckled himself in, followed by the application of his helmet and gloves. The order he prepared himself never changed, always going: harness, helmet, and gloves.

A few minutes later the whole group had exited the hanger and were on their way to the rendezvous point. It was not that long of a flight, and within a matter of minutes the squadron could see the transports. Jaden sent a radio message and confirmed that these would be their responsibility for the next few hours.

As the squadron got closer, Trevor could see that the transports were obviously not Imperial. They were painted a bright gold, with a purple stripe surrounding them about two thirds of the way up the hull. It really was quite a beautifully laid out color scheme, and Trevor noted that he may have to have a ship of his own painted similar colors. If I ever live long enough to get a ship of my own worth painting nicely. He thought with a laugh.

"Alright group, here's the plan. We're going to do a quick area scout and then return back here while they finish fueling up the transports. Everyone take a different heading and head out 5 clicks before turning back and meeting up here." Jaden ordered, the orders once again being followed by a stream of 'Yes Sir's.

Trevor's scouting trip was uneventful, just like the rest of the squadron's. They converged above the transports once again.

"This is Transport One." Came a voice over the comm. to Jaden. "We're all fueled up and read for takeoff." The pilot of the transport said as it began rising into the air, the first of five.

"Alright, the area is clear, we've got nothing to worry about. All right Nazgul Squadron. Once all the transports are lifted off and spread out, form up around them and take up defensive positions." Jaden ordered, leading Flight 1 around in a tight circle above the rapidly rising transports.

"Ok boys and girls, you heard him!" Trevor said enthusiastically into his comm. "Let's make sure these guys get where they want to go."

OOC: All right, here we go. Feel free to get us to the Asteroid cloud if you want to. Once we get there, I'll take over, or if no one has gotten us to the point, I'll get us there as well as throw in a bit of a plot switch in my next post.

 
-----------------------
XO/MCPO/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 9(3-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][SWC][LSM]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Darius was not a drinker of alcohol except on special occasions.  On this occasion, he did not make any exceptions to his personal rule and lifestyle.  They were on a mission and he did not take any chances.  He was constantly suspicious of the unstable planet's denizens and was unwilling to take the risk.  Instead, he kept one eye on his fellow squadron members, and another on the barkeep and the local citizens washing away their sorrows with a glass or four of alcohol.

However Darius did have the next best thing to alcohol, a cheap, synthetic brand that lacked the alcohol.  Though it did not compare the real deal, he enjoyed a glass of Alderaanian ale.  He still had bottles of the actual stuff locked away in several different safes along with other personal belongings.

Since Darius wasn't one to socialize, and after he felt comfortable leaving his squadron, he slipped out of the bar unnoticed.  He slowly walked back to the hanger, one hand in a pocket, loosely gripping a hold out blaster, and the other rest on the handle of a small vibroblade.  The young pilot had left his helmet back at his fighter and the thought of there being a sniper bothered him momentarily, but  he dismissed the idea and relaxed ever so slightly.

When he reached the hanger, he took a peak inside, making sure the mechanics were doing their job, and then went back outside and began walking around the perimeter of the hanger.  He wasn't worried about the local militia or military bothering the VE anymore, not wanting them to pick a side and get involved, but he didn't take into consideration the possibility of the crazed local holding a grudge against their because they didn't understand VE politics and rules.

"You bastard, git yer hands up," ordered a figure from the shadows cast by the hanger.  The drunken slur was quite noticealbe and heavy in the man's speech.

"Ok buddy, just take it easy," Darius said calmly, already making a mistake by putting his hands up. 

"That's better," said the male voice, the drunkeness playing the vanishing trick.  "Now then," said the voice again, "how much will I get for taking a VE pilot hostage?  Promise of support?  Funds?  Ransom money?"

"Nothing sir, the VE doesn't deal with terrorists, or captors.," Darius said, reverting into his emotionless, serious tone.  "A measely insignificant pilot like myself is expendable."

"Don't patronize me boy! I know what the life is worth of Nazgul pilots to the VE.  Your squadron is quite infamous in these parts."

"You mean famous."

The man fired, the bolt landing in between Darius' legs.  "You shut up or I'll put another one between your eyes!"  He was already acting in Darius favor.  The blaster shot had to have been heard.  Another person noisily emerged from behind Darius and reach for his gun.  Darius reacted and grabbed the skinny wrist of his assailant and place the teenager between him and the man with the gun.

In an unprofessional and untrained manner, the man fired, placing several shots into the boys back.  "He shot me," the boy quietly said, already beginning to fade away.  "M-my dad shot me."

Darius had enough and quickly drew his blaster and shot the confused father with a stun bolt.  Soon after, the mechanics in the hanger rushed out.

"Dammit Jed, what have you done now!" one of them yelled.  Another came over and looked at the boy Darius was holding in his arms and came over.

"Is he going to make it?" the mechanic asked, apparently recognizing with the boy.

Darius pulled out a patch from one of his utility pockets on his flight suit, pealed off the seal covering the adhesive end, and slapped it on the boy.  The pain reliever immediately went to work, comforting the boy's last moments. "No."

"One of the security guards saw what happened.  You'll be clear to leave with your squadron." said the mechanic, dazed by the boy's death.  "Umm, yeah."

Darius looked at his chrono and guessed everybody from his squadron would be returning soon.  "Make sure everything is taken care of with the police.  I don't want to here about this after I return from my mission.  It was that man's fault."

"Understood sir."

The Nazgul flight leader returned to the hanger and prepped his fighter for flight and inspected the other until Nazgul arrived.

-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
-----------------------
FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

"Nazgul leader this Transport One, do you copy?"

"Go ahead Transport One", Jaden replied over the comm.

"We're all fueled up and read for takeoff."

"Alright, the area is clear, we've got nothing to worry about. All right Nazgul Squadron. Once all the transports are lifted off and spread out, form up around them and take up defensive positions." Jaden ordered, leading Flight 1 around in a tight circle above the rapidly rising transports.

"Ok boys and girls, you heard him!Let's make sure these guys get where they want to go." Tomas heard Trevor pipe in over the comm. He seems a lot more enthusiastic than he did on the ground. Strange since this could be the most uneventful part of the mission. Just trying to keep us awake I guess. One by one the transports rose into the upper atmosphere towards their waiting escorts. As they fell into formation, Nazgul followed suit splitting up into pairs and forming a ring around the transports. The air was clear except for the odd smoke that billowed from the battles going on down on the ground. Every so often the sound of an explosion also made it Tomas' ears, though most were drowned out by his helmet and the TIEs engines.

"So who's up for coming back here for vacation when all this is said and done?" Tomas' wingmate Carly joked. Heh, not likely. Tomas thought to himself trying his hardest to keep his reaction to himself.

"I don't think so Carly, it could take quite some time for this whole mess they've gotten in to straighten itself out." Jaden replied calmly. "I'd be surprised if we ever came back here."

"Good riddance," Tomas heard someone, Darius I think his name was mutter over the comm. There had been a bit of commotion in the hangar when Nazgul had gotten back from the bar. From what Tomas could gather Darius had been involved, though he wasn't sure why or how. Not that it mattered...they'd all have times when you just didn't ask questions, and Tomas felt this was one of those.

The convoy had begun its ascent into orbit, when their sensors picked up approaching craft.

"Heads up Nazgul, we've got four unidentified starfighters approaching us from the northeast." Jaden announced over the comm. "Stay in formation, we've got orders not to engage any of their fighters and them likewise. Just stay sharp, from the way their planet looks right now you never know."

As ordered, the convoy continued to rise through the atmosphere and the starfighters came no closer than a few kilometers. Suddenly, Ninad spoke frantically, "One this is Ten, they're circling back and directly at us."

"Stay calm Ten, they probably just want to sniff us out."

"But..."

"Unless they open fire, we continue as planned."

"Relax Ninad," her brother Daniel spoke into the comm. "Everything's fine." And as predicted the fighters circled the convoy briefly before disappearing over the horizon.

Over the next couple hours, Tomas tried his hardest to stay concentrated on the escort task at hand. Looking through his viewport, their destination...and asteroid belt could be seen as scattered specks blocking out the stars behind them.

Some of the other pilots had decided to pass the time discussing what they would rather be doing right now. It wasn't something Tomas wanted to get into, but some of their chatter had been pretty funny and it was keeping him from falling asleep so he stayed tuned in.

*A Couple Hours Later*

The trip had been just as boring as predicted, but finally they were within range of the asteroid belt. Up close it looked a lot denser and more treacherous than it had from a distance.

"Nazgul One, this is Transport One. We're going to have to slow ourselves down a bit if we're going to get through this safely."

"Copy that Transport One. You heard 'em guys, throttle down a bit and maintain formation. Stay alert, don't want anyone being sandwiched by an asteroid."...
 
-----------------------
Petty Officer 2nd Class 'Tomas' Dagoram
FL/PO2 Tomas/Nazgul 3-1/mSSS Atrus/VEN/VE (=*A*=) [MC1]

She'd barely had time to pin on her wings and rank insignia before a naval trooper arrived in her cubicle with a new set of orders directing her to a waiting TIE interceptor and a rendezvous with the bulk cruiser Red Cloud for transport to the Dastoria system.

There was also a handwritten note waiting for her on her desk, which she unfolded, read.

Read again, still not knowing what:

"A favor will be asked of you when you reach your destination.

                                                                Your loving nephew"

meant, and she didn't have time to find out, the Red Cloud was due to leave the system any time, and she ran to the field where her assigned fighter was parked, climbing up into the cockpit, belting in and powering up, lifting the instant the tower gave her clearance, Delia bulleting through Abrae's atmosphere at maximum burn, matching orbital vectors with the ancient bulk cruiser's hangar bay, decelerating at the same time she commed the ship for permission to land, acknowledging their reply, as she settled gently into the first available docking rack.

**Many loooooooooong hours later**

She couldn't sleep, the rack she'd been assigned stinking of the accumulated sweat and flatulence of all those who'd slept here before, the cabin bare of anything save the locker where she'd stowed her gear, and a desk with a computer terminal.

And a fresher unit with a jammed-open door.

No choice,her garrison utilities stank of her sweat, soaked clear through, and she looked like hell, felt it....

...leering at her as she showered, eyes travelling slowly up and down her young body, a look of contempt curling his lip....

...no choice, Delia stripping, stepping into the sonic shower booth, drawing the tatty curtain closed, her eyes shut as the ultrasonics cleansed her body....

...pulling her down by her hair, pulling....

...Emperor's black bones!

Her heart was hammering against her chest, her body shaking, fists trembling as they balled up impotently, Delia quickly stepping out of the shower, quickly changing into her clean set of garrison utlilites, half-running out of her cabin, ascending the ladder leading up to the ship's one TIE Interceptor simulator, Delia elbowing one of the Red Cloud's pilots out of the way, the pilot about to say something when she growled out,"WHAT?!", just before stepping into the sim's cockpit, strapping herself in, choosing the "A-Wing Slash" scenario and began blazing away at computer-generated Rebel fighters.

She loved flying the TIE Interceptor, the controls were simpler and far more responsive than her old Talon, and it handled like a dream in atmosphere...flying in space was somewhat more complicated than flying in atmosphere, but not so different that she couldn't quickly grasp it.

All she ever wanted, ever since she'd first seen a YT-1300 take off from Snugarbor when she'd been very young...until now, little chance of that ever happening, not on a planet where even interplanetary shuttles landed but once a month at best.

Still far from being good enough, no matter how much sim time  how many hours of actual flight time she logged...frag! one of the kriffing NR A-Wings rolled out from under her, lasers spitting fire, Delia cursing as she looped down into position behind it, another A-Wing splashing her rear shields with its lasers as she hammered through her target's with all four wingtip-mounted lasers, ripping it apart before slewing the ship around on all her port maneuvering thrusters, tearing into the A-Wing which had been pelting her rear shields, Delia pressing down on the firing stud--

--only for the sim to terminate abruptly, a voice over the intercom directing her to report to the hangar bay immediately after warning of imminent reversion to realspace.

Barely enough time for her to race out of the sim, down the ladder, back to her quarters, throw together her gear, suit up and run for the hangar bay, just managing to climb up into her cockpit in time to watch the bulk cruiser's hangar bay doors roll away, Delia powering up and vaulting out of there at maximum burn, scanning in all directions, eyes on the asteroids almost immediately ahead of her and the formation of TIE Interceptors and transport shuttlecraft clearing the asteroids and still ten minutes out from her.

The transports and the twelve approaching fighters painting her all at once. 

-----------------------
FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-3/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)

"Flight Control to Nazgul, Azure and Crimson Flights," the voice of the Red Cloud's flight controller said over comms,"am detecting bandits inbound on attack vector for shuttles and their escorts!"

Delia nodded, the inbound Y-Wings showing up on sensors, about five and a half minutes from her present position, another seven or so from Nazgul Squadron and their charges, the edge of the asteroid field starting to interfere with sensors.

"We see 'em, Flight Control," the Interceptor squawking as Azure Five replied, Delia saying,"copy that, Flight Control," over her comm.

"Azure, Crimson and Nazgul Flights," the Red Cloud's flight controller then said," you are to intercept, engage and destroy incoming hostiles in conjunction with Nazgul Squadron. Azure and Crimson Squadrons will launch to reinforce, Nazgul Leader will serve as on-site commander; please switch your comms to his freq--"

Flight Control's voice abruptly cut off after a second of cursing, the sensors lighting up with the view directly behind her fighter.

Showing the pair of Corellian gunships tag-teaming the Red Cloud, driving turbolaser bolts into her from inside the ancient Battle Horn-class bulk cruiser's thrust envelope.

"Frag," she whispered, switching her comms over to the Nazgul squadron frequency, as she turned to intercept the enemy fighters.


-----------------------
FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-3/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)

Y-wings? Trevor thought to himself as they detected the new ships approaching them quickly. Who would send in Y-wings to attack us... He continued as Jaden issued the order to tighten up with the transports for the moment. They had been told that they would be receiving backup from a VE bulk cruiser that had shown up on site, Crimson and Azure Squadrons. Although Trevor had only heard the names tossed around a few times, he had heard good things about the groups.

The arrival of a pair of gun ships was unexpected though, and Jaden quickly ordered Crimson squadron and a flight from Azure to go help out the bulk cruiser. Flight three from Azure squadron broke off and headed to join up with Crimson, while the rest of the squadron formed up along with Nazgul and the transports.

"Who's our 13th pilot?" Trevor asked as he realized that there were now 13 TIEs with a Nazgul ID tag. No one answered until the pilot of the TIE itself spoke up.

"I was told you lost a pilot, I was sent to replace them." A female voice replied. Jaden was busy giving out orders to Azure squadron, so Trevor handled the situation.

"Alright, well, we didn't lose anybody so you're going to have to play Nazgul 13 for now. No time for introductions, we can do that later." Trevor explained, squeezing his trigger as he did so, vaporizing a small asteroid that was edging to close to him.

"Yes sir." Was the response he got from the new pilot? Everyone was just beginning to expect a vicious attack from the ever-nearing Y-wings when a voice cut into their comm. units. It was a deep male voice, and Trevor recognized it from somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint where.

"Imperial Transports. Prepare to be immobilized and be ready to hand over your cargo. If you co-operate, no one will be harmed. We are members of the pirate group Tachurus Squadron, and are not afraid to open fire." That's it! Trevor thought to himself hurriedly.

After that there was radio silence for a moment before one of the transport captains piped up, asking what they should prepare to do. Jaden thought for a second before replying.

"Prepare whatever weaponry you have aboard. We're not going to stand down to pirates. Nazgul Squadron and Azure flights one and two, get ready to engage incoming Y-wings." As he finished, everyone began to quickly bring their weapons and targeting systems online. Trevor could hear one of the twins nervously talking with the other about the impending combat, but it didn't bother him. He lazily flipped the systems online and stared at the approaching star fighters from his past.


He was at the controls of a Y-wing, calmly bringing it into a dive to prepare for a bombing run on an old Imperial spaceport. Ahead of him was Szar, and off to his right was Reaper. He could see another squadron of Y-wings in the distance, ready to perform their bombing run as well. The two commanders gave the signal and both squadrons of bombers lurched foreword, their payloads being emptied on the undefended port. A few minutes later nothing was left but smoldering ruins and beaten bodies, but the NR pilots turned their backs to the mess, accelerating away before any Imperial support could come in.

"Good work Hussars!" Came the sound of the man in charge of the other squadron as the two formed up into one large group. As individual squadrons they were legends in the NR as the best Y-wing squadrons around. Together they were all but invincible.

"You as well, Tachurus." Szar grunted back in his trandoshian way.


The group of Nazgul and Azure formed up and sped away from the transports, the TIE engines whining in their own rhythm. Trevor knew that the TIE was easily way faster than a Y-wing, but he also knew the kind of skill that a Tachurus pilot had to possess to be permitted to fly in the main attack squadron. The pilots seated in those Y-wings could easily be considered the best of the best, and would present a challenge to whomever they met up with.

The y-wings now spread apart into their own flights, each flight containing 5 members. Although 15 fighters were visible, only 14 showed on the radar, and occasional one or two would disappear due to disturbances caused by the asteroid cloud.

"So this isn't a rebel attack?" One of the communications officers asked Jaden as the pair of gun ships bombarded the bulk cruiser.

"No, they are pirates, and " Jaden started, but Trevor cut him off.

"They are pirates and are dangerous as hell. We might outnumber them almost 3 to 1, but that won't stop them. They've captured two heavily armed gun ships, and I know how they fly." Trevor said, not feeling the least bit rude for cutting in on his commanding officer.

"And how would you know this?" Jaden snapped back, forwarding his deflector shields to the front and beginning to twist one of the knobs that helped lock his reticule onto an enemy fighter.

"I used to fly with them, before they went piraty." Trevor replied solemnly, following Jaden's lead and preparing to engage. The two groups of fighters were a mere minute apart, and any moment they could open up and tear into the squadron of frail Interceptors.

"900 meters&800 meters&650 meters&" Jaden called out, trying to anticipate when the enemy would open fire. "400 meters&300&"

Then a blast of crimson from the lead Y-wing opened the floor, signifying the start of the graceful dance known as a dogfight.

OOC: All right, we're dealing with what many would easily consider to be the best of the best when it comes to fighter pilots. Don't let the Y-wings fool you; each one can carry upwards of 15 proton torpedoes. That's over 150 torpedoes combined, as well as ion turrets and blaster cannons. We will lose some of Azure squadron, and they aren't going to lose a lot of Y-wings. Have fun, just try not to get to carried away with it ^_^.


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XO/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 2(1-2)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Why did they think we lost a pilot?, Darius thought to himself.  We haven't even seen any action yet.

The flight leader had to take back his words once the transports relayed the news of incoming vessels.  Fifteen Y-wings and two heavily armed gunships.  Don't assume these to be ordinary everyday smoes trying to get a few credits Darius.  Sure enough, the conversation between Trevor and Jaden, and the tone of Trevor's voice told Darius that the Y-wings were aces...maybe even super aces, if there was such a thing.

Pirated eh, well...there's more behind this that just a simple hit, grab and run.  Not important at the moment.  The second party involved will get what they deserve when the time comes.

Darius switched his com frequency to his flight and began issuing his strict orders.  "Alright boys, I want a loose formation.  I know I usually don't go with that, but these guys in the Y-wings know what they're doing."

"I don't see how if they're attacking in Y-wings," Raigen chimed.  "We've got speed and maneuverability, that's all we need against them."

"Do not assume or underestimate your enemy," Darius snapped back.  "Who knows what they're packing in those old fighters."  Darius adjust the climate in his fighter and turned it to a cool 50 degrees.  "Now, we're going in, putting ourselves inbetween them and the transports, forcing them off target, then we'll have our fun...if that's possible."

"If I may interject here, you're not very inspiring five," Chak Fel cut in.

"I don't get paid to inspire seven," Darius replied, the effect of his emotionless tone sending a chill down Chak's spine.  "I get paid to bring you back alive."

"He's honest, I'll give him that," Hunter added.

"True, now cut the chatter...we're being painted," Darius ordered. 

The asteroid belt was becoming denser and the scanner useless.  Darius took his left hand off of this flight yoke, reached into his bag, and pulled out a datapad.  He attached it to the arm of the acceleration couch and activated the map of the asteroid belt.  With this, he could pin-point his flight's position using the estimated coordinates the computer gave him and the coordinated his flight gave to him.

"Five, I've got three fighters visible, should I go in?" Chak asked, apparently eager for some first blood.

"Three?" Darius questioned.

"Yeah, the probably don't even know we're coming."

"Not alone...seven, eight, pursue our targets," Darius ordered with assurance.  "Watch for any anomilies on your scanners."

"Affirmitive lead, going in," Chak confirmed.

"Six, decelerate and stick tight on my wing," Darius ordered Hunter while watch two of his fighters burst ahead in pursuit of the Y-wings.

"Affirmitive five, decerlating and hanging in tight formation," Hunter acknowledged.  "Waiting for something?"

"Yes," Darius said and switched to the squadron frequency. "Lead, we're in pursuit of three Y's, waiting for two to come out of hiding."

"Two to come out of hiding, how do you know they're hiding," Jaden asked Darius.

"Because I'm reminiscing back to my pirate days.  Think like a pirate, it's what I'd do."

"Whoa whoa whoa...they're not going to come after us are they?" Raigen asked, obviously worried about his own well being.

"They're not going to eight, they are," Darius replied and throttled his fighter to max in order to blitz the two Y-wings detaching from an asteroid.  "Tight on my wing six."

"Already there five.  Ready to fire on your command."

Darius listened closely to his engines, caustiously checking to make sure that the asteroid dust and debris were clogging his fighter.  For now, he was safe.  "Alright six, lock them with a missile."

"Yessir, locking...missile away," Hunter said.  Dropping slightly away from Darius to get a better view of the impact.  On cue, the missile detonated, eliminating the Y's shields and sending its partner away in a frenzy.  The two Nazgul's had gained enough on the fighter that Darius was in laser ranger.  He fired two quad shots and connected with the fighter.

"That's a kill," Darius confirmed with no emotion.  "MINE!" he shouted, but his was too late for him...to avoid it completely.  He sharply dove and the concussion of the explosion sent his fighter into a death spin, careening out of control in the asteroid field.

Hunter, on the other hand, was able to avoid the mine enough that the explosion only shook his fighter and pelted his shield with debris.  He followed his flight leader and watched, powerless to help him and he tried to avoid collisions to the best of his ability.

"One, this is six, five has exited the denser part of the asteroid field out of either pure luck or skill beyond any of ours and is regaining control.  Be careful, they're packing mines.  I've lost the other target."
 
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All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
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FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]