***Somewhere near the Vast Imperial/New Republic Border*** G slogged along his normal patrol path, lazily scanning the ether for ‘Rebel’ bandits. Five years since the Battle of Endor turned the galaxy upside down Driver still thought of them as rebels. They had a larger chunk of space than the so-called Vast Empire and most of the competing Imperial warlords. They had a more cohesive naval presence and they were gaining strength. Days like this made G wonder if it was all worth it.
Since the debacle of Firestorm several months back he’d been assigned to Raptor Squadron. Dre Gadin, his SC was a good enough commander, and a fair pilot. He was nowhere near the level of Jeg or Trevor, but out here he’d do. Raptor seemed to be somewhere between a daycare center and a halfway house. Most of the kids flying with him were just that, kids. He’d trained more noobs on finding their asses than he’d ever done in his time with Nazgul.
Even now thinking of Nazgul gave him pangs. He knew he’d someday leave the Nazzies, but not the way he did. The scars of Firestorm weren’t limited to the ones on his arm. He’d heard nothing from any of his old squadron mates since the day Denethor sent him out here. He’d tried to get a status report on the injured folks for several weeks after joining up with Raptor, but each time he was rebuffed. So, G settled into the life of an outland pilot, killing each day as it came and hoping he wouldn’t swallow his blaster.
“Awfully quiet today, huh sir,” commed his wingman.
Driver snapped out of his daze. He’d forgotten she was out there. Luthria Dilkis was a young Zabrak pilot that had showed some promise when she’d been sent out a month ago. She had skills, but not a lot of confidence, and for a fighter jockey that could be deadly.
“Yep, and for the two hundredth time, don’t call me sir. G or Driver is fine,” he wearily chided.
“But sir, you’re my Flight Leader; it would be disrespectful of me to not give you your due honor.
Driver sighed to himself, “Thria? I ORDER you to stop calling me sir, and call me either G or Driver. Better?”
He was met by silence on his comm. She was no doubt processing the order and sorting out the conflicts within it. G chuckled to himself.
“Yes…G,” she replied tentatively.
“See, that didn’t hurt at all, now did it?”
“No si…G,” she caught herself before she said the S-word.
“Good, now since the New Republic has decided NOT to invade today, let’s head for home.”
“Yes sir,” she quickly responded.
Driver sagged, he knew it’d be a while till she was able to relax around him, he just hoped there wouldn’t be any shooting till then. She was one of the best out here and she still had a ways to go. Dre’d given him the FL slot in Flight 3 upon arrival and had been leaning on the older man’s experience ever since. G now knew what it was like to be a parent. Raptor as a whole had improved, but they still had a lot of work ahead. G figured after this he might just apply to the Naval Academy.
G and Thria touched down in the main bay of the
Visigoth and dismounted. She made for the debriefing room to make her report, and G made for his bunk. Reports are needed, but he’d just punch in one of the stock, “nothing but dust” reports he’d already written.
He entered his cabin and began to strip off his flight suit when the message waiting tone pinged on his comm. He casually thumbed the ‘accept’ button.
The holo threw up an image of Kam Vox, the Wing Commander, and the man responsible for him being on the ass end of the Empire.
Hello G’shlecc. I hope you’re well. As much as I know this will pain you, I am transferring you out of Raptor. You are to report to Lotaith in immediately. Gadin has already received your orders and is aware of your move. You will be on the next outbound shuttle, which if you stay on schedule, will depart the Visigoth in approximately thirty minutes. Grab your gear, you will not be returning. Upon arrival on Lotaith, you will be collected by Captain Joss. He will brief you as to your duties at that time. Vox out. The holo flickered and died. G stood stunned. He’d almost resigned himself to staying out here on the edge of orderly society. Now, Den had pulled him back from the edge, albeit an edge he sent him to in the first place, and given him a mystery to ponder. Who the hells was Capt. Joss, and what was his new job?
Not having much time G threw his possessions into a duffel, grabbed a quick shower, and made for the launch bay. He found the outbound shuttle waiting for him, stowed his gear, and grabbed a seat. The pilot made a flawless departure from the Visigoth and G hunkered down for the flight. He pulled out his datapad and tapped out a quick “where I’m headed” note to Yulia. Moments later the pad pinged back, “Transmission Blocked”
“What the hells,” queried G?
He punched the send button once more. Again the note was blocked. Being the only person on board the shuttle, he made his way to the cockpit and asked the pilots if they knew why his comms weren’t getting out.
“You are on a secure Naval Intel shuttle. All outbound comm traffic is blocked,” they stated nonchalantly.
“Intel? No one told me this was an Intel gig?”
The pilot looked at G blankly, “If we told you we wouldn’t be very good, now would we?”
G grunted his affirmation, and went back to his seat. The pilot commed back the ETA to Lotaith.
“Well, I’ve got six hours to kill, no one to talk to, and I can’t hit the Comnet for entertainment. Sounds like a good time for a nap.” He said to no one in particular.
Driver found a small sleeper bunk in the back of the shuttle compartment and crawled in. Within moments he was fast asleep.
***Six hours later*** Driver awoke to the sounds of the shuttles braking thrusters firing. He crawled out of the bunk and made his way to the cockpit. Through the viewer he saw the Vast Imperial capital world.
“We’ll be on the ground in ten minutes,” stated the pilot.
The craft banked hard and touched down lightly. Grasping his bag, Driver stepped out into the clear afternoon sun of Lotaith. Waiting at the bottom of the ramp was a rather severe looking man not too much older than himself.
“CPO Atrasin, follow me,” he spat curtly.
Well at least I know this ain’t Imperial Charm School G followed the man into the nearest non-descript building. The officer, he had an officers bearing to him, passed them through several checkpoints. They snaked through the building until the officer opened a door and motioned G to enter. It was a standard, albeit stark, bunker.
“Wait here until you’re called.” He snorted curtly.
Driver shrugged to himself, and unpacked his gear. He found the fresher and did a quick clean up, including a shave. He threw on a clean duty uniform and sat down on the bed. Within moments his door opened and the officer motioned for him to follow.
I wonder if this guy ever speaks They walked in silence down the hall and into a small briefing room. The officer pointed for G to take a seat. The officer strode to the front of the room and slid behind the podium. The room was obviously larger, but had been partitioned for some reason.
“Let us begin. I am Captain Joss; you’re Liaison Officer and handler. You gentlemen are considered by the Naval High Command to be the some of the finest pilots in the whole of the Vast Empire.”
Gentlemen? “That being said, you are here for a reason. You have been selected to Join Reaper Squadron. This Squadron will be the Vast Empire’s answer to the New Republic’s Rogue Squadron. An elite group of pilots sent to deal with ‘special’ circumstances. Our missions are classified, this squadron does not exist, and you all will be under the strictest orders to maintain its secrecy. All of you have been selected, but can opt out at this time. If so, press the red button before you now. If you wish to stay press your palm on the screen within the box.”
Driver reached out and pressed his hand against the screen. It went momentarily blank, and then flickered back with the words “Top Secret” emblazoned in red.
“Good. Let us begin”
The walls of the briefing room dropped revealing two more men and a droid. G recognized them in a heartbeat. One was Ibram Tyrol; Squadron Commander of Viper, the other was his XO Anden Beliam. The droid was C-3PX2, SC of Kaph.
Sonnuva… “You will all read the following briefing and be prepared to ship out for the rendezvous with your Commander within the next thirty minutes. Your gear has already been packed and is awaiting you on board your shuttle. You will all remain in your current positions and squadrons as cover stories, except for you CPO Atrasin.”
Really “You will be re-assigned to the re-formed Nazgul Squadron. You have been specifically requested by its new SC.”
Driver broke into a huge grin. Nazgul. Home. He was going home. He wondered who the new SC was, and why he had requested him? Was it Jeg, Trevor, or even Rogue? He’d find out soon enough, right now all he knew was that he had a lot of reading to do, and a short time to do it.
