It was bright. Like, really bright. And it kept getting brighter, too, too bright. Tomas flickered and disappeared, swallowed by the light. So did Stix, and Sic, and the others. Ferran tried to close his eyes, but they were already closed. He began to scream, but the light filled his mouth, filled his head, filled his body, and he ceased to exist.

It was dark. It seemed even darker because of the absence of the light. Maybe this is death, Ferran thought idly. It wasn’t too bad, he mused. It was nice and cool. The breeze, at least, swept away some of the heat. The ground was hot, though. Ground. There wasn’t a ground in death, was there? Ferran opened his eyes and woke up in hell.

Smoke drifted lazily through the open sky of what once used to be the billets of the hangar. Ferran sat up and coughed out dust. It was almost as bad as before, but at least the wind was carrying some of it away. He looked around, trying to piece together what happened.

He’d been running with the PDF. That much he knew. He’d been running to defend the billets, and there had been shooting, and then...and then everything went all hazy. He stood up and got a look of the surrounding terrain for the first time. Well, what was left of it.

Most of the ground in every direction was blackened and broken, ravaged by some terrible force. It bucked and dipped, looking as if someone had taken their hands and scrunched it all together, creating a maddening pattern of hills and craters. There were survivors, too. They wandered among the ruins of the plains, dejected and obviously confused.

Not so different than me, then, Ferran though. He began to walk off, not in any particular direction, but in an effort to get away from the horrible scene. He found himself cresting one of the many rises before long, and soon he was greeted with the sight of the hangar.

Well, where the hangar used to be, anyway. From here, almost a half a mile away, it was easy to tell what happened. The large, circular craters, and the even blacker earth said it all. Orbital bombardment. By rights, he shouldn’t even have been alive. The building, and the fact that he’d been a good distance away, had probably kept him from being incinerated or, worse, being chucked into the air by the shockwave and dying a slow, painful death upon landing.

He stumbled down the low hill, carefully noting the way the earth crunched and left puffs of dark soot in his wake. The devastation was awe-inspiring. The forest that had surrounded the complex wasn’t there anymore; it had simply ceased to exist. Likewise, most of the base was gone or in pieces. The upheaved ground elevated parts of buildings a good ten feet or more above their counterparts, leaving much debris teetering precariously on the edge. As Ferran watched, a wall crumbled and fell down in a spray of dust.

There was a shriek as two Y-Wings went overhead. They didn’t seem to notice Ferran, in his fatigues, waving frantically to them, alone among the remains of the base. Odd, he thought. He was better for it, though. He seriously doubted any of them would’ve given him a ride anyway.

Still reeling from his near-death experience, he hadn’t noticed that he’d made it to the hangar. He looked around, taking in the fragments of wall still standing, and the spattering of tools poking through the rubble. He tried to imagine it whole and running again, but it was hard.

Suddenly weary, he took a seat on a nearby slab of ferracrete. The sun beat down, soaking into the black earth, making it practically an oven. The breeze had died down, and now it was extremely hot and uncomfortable. Ferran pulled at the hem of his fatigues and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do next.

As the beams of light engulfed everything within sight, Stone began to embrace himself for what seemed to be his own demise. Having already known it was planetary bombardment, he knew his chances of survival were slim to none - along with the lives of every other Viper pilot currently in flight. Vivid imagery of what memories he had retained from the past began to flicker throughout his mind, which only lead him to believe that this seriously was it - The end for him.

I knew it would end like this... some ridiculously unavoidable. Down right pisses me off!

Alas, after the light had faded, he remained alive. The pilot quickly shook off the depressing thoughts of death, reminding himself of how much of an idiot he was for even thinking he could have been taken so easily.  Now, it was time to get something done. Stone quickly brought the fighter back into formation with Anden and opened up a channel between the two of them.

"Nine, what are our orders?"

Anden was quick to reply, "We're to assist the Abrae guards at the main gate. They're pinned down pretty bad, and if we don't get there soon the position might be lost all together."

"Affirmative nine, lets get a move on"

Both Viper pilots took their fighters to full speed and headed for the coordinates on the surface that marked the position of the Abrae guards. As they began to make their way towards the marked position, they ran into trouble.

"Frak, a handful of A-wings on our six," said Stone, switching his shields to full aft. Cannon fire immediately started ripping up the aft shields as they continued straight on their path for the main gate, but the attack was quickly countered. Stone threw the fighter into a port side barrel roll, avoiding most of the cannon barrage. The New Republic A-wing flight split up and followed each pilot now that they had broken formation. It wouldn't be easy to wrestle their way out of this one, and the fate of the Abrae guards was now looking grim.

"Nine, we've got to figure something out here! They're all over me!"

How are we supposed to get anything done when these bastards still have space superiority?

*****

Chief Warrant Officer Victor hesitated as he addressed his captain, informing her that they were now on their way back to the flotilla with the remaining crew of the Rising Sun.

"They're ready to board the Rising Sun right away ma'am. All personnel look to be in good health. We've given them a substantial amount of rations to curb their hunger, and bacta treatments to those who had minor injuries."

Shiva let out a sigh of relief as Victor ended his report. Having the remaining crew all in good health and ready for action only raised their chances of getting ahead in this fight.

"Good to hear Victor, now, lets make sure we get their safely. I don't want to see us slow down at all on our way their, and if we run into trouble - Keep moving! We've got to finish up with this crew before we start assisting the rest of the flotilla, and I'm sure they're getting low on supplies."

Chief Warrant Officer Victor stood at attention and saluted Ensign Shiva. Venussia returned the salute, and the man quickly went back to his post.

We've just got to stay on track, and hopefully avoid any entanglements in the process.

OOC:

This is my first squadron post, Enjoy

==OUT OF THE FRYING PAN==
Kirin Freestar, better known as Reddog, woke up amazed that he was still alive. His first mission after Flight School and he almost gets shot out of the sky by a Y-Wing. His starfighter was on the planet’s surface. The Y-Wing must have been using ion blasters and disabled him. How I didn’t explode is a miracle. Kirin looked at the damaged display in front of him, it looked like the display was intact he just had to get powered restored.

Kirin reached behind his seat and grabbed his trusty tool belt; he had to beg the crew chief to let him take it on board. He was used to working in tight quarters but this was ridiculous. He looked out the window and saw the laser fire from a distance. Luckily he was far enough from the battle that he could work in peace. Kirin popped open the control panel and started to work. Just twist this last pair of wires… All of the sudden the control panel lit up and he heard static in his helmet. He adjusted the radio…

“This is Tiger 5, anyone out there read me?”

He fired up the engines and started to lift the fighter towards the ensuing conflict.

“I repeat this is Tiger 5, do you copy?”

“Tiger 5 this is Tiger 4, I thought I was the only one left.” Replied Jamal surprisingly.

“Jamal, what is your status, over?” Kirin asked.

“Well until now I thought I was the only one in the squad left. I joined up with Viper squad to help clear out these fighters.”

“Send me your coordinates Jamal, I am on my way. Make sure you save one of those Y-Wings for me, I have a little present for him.”

Kirin’s displayed lit up with the coordinates to the battle. Kirin punched them in and pushed the engines to full throttle. Well let’s try not to shot down this time.

==INTO THE FIRE==
It felt like an eternity before Kirin’s Interceptor reached the battle, but once he had arrived it was nothing like he imagined. There was a sea of cannon and missile fire amongst ship debris; it was like flying into a minefield. Kirin patched into the Viper Squadron’s communication channel.

“This is Tiger 5, of Tiger Squadron returning to the fray, what can I do to be of assistance?”

“Tiger 5, this is Ibram of Viper Squadron, nice of you to join us Crewman.” Ibram replied.

“I had a little run in with a Y-Wing and had to do a little repair of my systems.” Kirin reported. “Remind me to send a message to the designer of these TIEs; they need to make the guts a little easier to access.”

“Most people don’t get a chance to repair after they have been disabled.”

“Well, I am not most people…Sir.” replied Kirin cautiously. “I have been around the inside of more than one starship.”

“Ok, enough chatter fall into formation and help defend the ground troops.” Barked Ibram.

Kirin fell into formation next to the last of his squadron, just as he settled in a squad of X-Wings came at the formation.

“Everyone break off and target those X-Wings!” ordered Ibram.

Kirin felt a lump in his throat; he had been in some dogfights with pirates before, but never anything to the scale of a full scale battle. He broke hard left and started to move in behind one of the X-Wings. He increased the power to his cannons and targeted the X-Wing. Well here goes. He squeezed the trigger on his flight stick and he felt the whole fighter shake. I got him now  Just then his targeting computer lit up. A missile, who got a lock on me. Kirin switched his targeting computer to the craft targeting him. A Y-Wing, dammit it was the same Y-Wing that took him out earlier. Alright Republic sum you want to play. Kirin threw full power to the engines and pulled up hard on his flight stick. The missile that was targeted at him flew by and destroyed the X-Wing. One down As he climbed he watched as the Y-Wing flew underneath him. Kirin performed a descending barrel roll and leveled his craft behind the Y-Wing, he charged his cannons and slammed on the firing trigger. DIE you Republic wamprat. The cannon fire destroyed the starboard engine on the Y-Wing, the Y-Wing spun out of control a exploded in a ball of fire.

Just as Kirin was catching his breath, he looked around at the other fighters dealing with their own enemies. No time to be celebrating He increased the throttle and targeted his next victim. This is going to be a long day.

OOC:

Be Gentle, Its my first time

Everything was on fire. The consoles, the chairs, the bridge: everything. Reeves coughed, ducking low under the smoke and crawled across the compartment to his helmsman. Well, what used to be his helmsman. The impact and forced the man’s face into his console, along with most of his brains. Reeves pulled the man aside began steering the ship. It was slow going, blinded and choked by the smoke as he was.

“Gunner!” Reeves yelled, not taking his eyes off the controls in front of him.

“Aye, sir!” came a strangled, oddly-metallic reply from the darkness.

“For the Emperor’s sake, return fire!”

“We did, sir! We launched the squadron, too.” The Gunnery Commander finally appeared out of the smoke. “They haven’t returned back.” His face was obscured by a gas mask, hence the metallic sound of his voice. He tossed one to Reeves who just barely caught it. He slipped it over his face gratefully.

“How long have I been out?” Reeves asked, looking back toward his work. His Gunnery Commander shrugged.

“Hard to say. Probably since the first volley.”

“And how long was that?” Reeves hissed, annoyed with his Commanders apparent calm in the crisis situation.

“Fifteen minutes or so.” Fifteen minutes!? Had it really been that long? He looked up from his work, apparently content, and then stalked off in the direction of the viewport. It was empty outside, though he didn’t really expect to see anything. For one thing, he was looking the wrong way.

“Where are they?”

“Haven’t seen them in five minutes, give or take. Our TIEs kept their fighters off, and we outran the larger ones.”

“’Outran’ them?”

“Yessir, they dropped behind. Haven’t seen them since.” Reeves looked over at his Gunnery Commander. He could practically picture the grin plastered on his face behind his mask.

“One,” Reeves began contemptuously, “does not simply outrun Rebel capital ships. Esepcially not in the Haiku!” His Gunnery Commander was completely flustered, going so far as to take a step back.

“B-but...sir...I mean...”

“Are the guns still powered?” Reeves asked, already knowing the answer. He began off towards the Gunnery console.

“No, we...we rerouted all power to the engines as soon as we lost them!”

“Tompson, Grilles,” Reeves opened a comlink line. “All guns to full power, now!” They were well-enough drilled that they didn’t ask questions. Reeves’ Gunnery Commander wasn’t as well taught.

“What? That’s my call to make! Sir! What the frig is going on!?”

Reeves opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment the klaxons drowned out his words. He was too late. Way, way too late. Outside, a Nebulon-B frigate resolved into view, completing its micro-jump right in front of the Haiku. Weapons already charged, it opened fire immediately. A quick glance at the scanners told Reeves that there was another ship behind them, with as many as twenty fighters. No wonder none of their TIEs had returned.

“Guns at thirty percent!” The Gunnery Commander called, in a feeble attempt to be useful. It was too late anyway. They would be dead before those guns hit fifty. Reeves rushed over to the helmsman’s console and hit the enter key. The navcomputer blipped once, and then the stars outside began to smudge.

For the first time in its long history, the Haiku made a random hyperspace jump.