It was a unique feature of TIE Series craft that they lacked any landing gear whatsoever. Although they were structurally capable of balancing on their solar panel ‘wings’, they were designed purely for space superiority. Anything that was deemed a luxury or unnecessary for securing victory over opposing fighter craft was simply left out – older TIEs did not even have any repulsorlifts. The Vast Empire had upgraded all their craft with repulsorlifts, but landing gear was simply too impractical an addition, and so they remained absent. It was because of this that they were housed in launch racks built into the ceiling of hangar bays, to be catapulted directly into space.

To board these agile little fighters required a pilot to walk to where the fighter hung from the launch rack on a catwalk, high above the polished launch bay floor below. Then, they would have to descend down a ladder into the tiny cockpit of the craft and wait until the ladder was lifted away, and the top hatch closed after them. Sealed inside their fighter, they would then, and only then, be able to take the pilot’s seat and begin the start-up sequence. In typical cost-saving fashion, there was no life support, so pilots had to wear a fully sealed space-suit with a life support modulator mounted on their chest in order to protect them from the deadly vacuum of space.

So it was that disgraced starfighter pilot Sam Jack Dunn stared through the eye lenses of a pressurised flight helmet at the dashboard of a TIE/ad for the very first time. He noted dryly that although there were more screens and buttons than in the TIE/In Interceptor he was used to flying, the cockpit was only slightly more cluttered than the original. Obviously, the higher-end predecessor to the Interceptor boasted more advanced computing and miniaturisation than its mass-production descendant had been graced with. Officially called the TIE/ad Advanced, it was known informally as the ‘TIE Avenger’, in order to avoid confusion with the similarly named TIE Advanced x1 prototype that had, in turn, preceded it.

That was to say, by very craft that had been made infamous by none other than Lord Darth Vader himself. It wasn’t every day that a pilot had the opportunity to get his hands on such advanced technology, and Sam Dunn was only too happy to make the most of it. He took a few moments to familiarise himself with the controls, noting that instead of jury-rigged shield readouts like the Vast Empire’s Interceptors possessed, the one the Advanced mounted was purpose-built and looked more natural, as did the weapons selection screen for the M-g-2 concussion missile launchers. The hyperdrive and navicomputer consoles took a second longer to find, however.

Only when he had memorised the changed locations of the buttons, consoles and screens and was confident that he could find them without having to hunt did he cease lounging around and actually started to get around to the business of starting up the expensive, experimental machine with which he had been entrusted. The amount of Green Stuff he had to smuggle to Seth; the Wing Commander, in order to gain access to the TIE Advanced qualification course had been nothing short of criminal, but it had definitely been worth it. Already, just sitting in the cockpit and feeling the hum of the advanced I-s3a reactor as it began to power up, he knew he had fallen in love.

Predictably, the start-up sequence was a third again as long as it had been for the simpler, mass-produced TIE/In Interceptor, as the Advanced had more complex systems (and more systems in general) that needed to be powered up and charged. Still, in what was a dramatically short time for a starfighter, the beast was ready to launch. Tapping the comm-button on the inside of his helmet with his tongue, Sam Dunn contacted Launch Control. The TIE Advanced, apparently eager at the prospect of leaving the Adjudicator, purred beneath him.
“Master Chief Dunn to Launch Control, requesting permission to launch.”

Veterans of the fighting against the Imperial Dominion, the Adjudicator’s flight control crew wasted no time in replying. Dunn was somewhat cheered at hearing the voice of former Chlovi Squadron flight member Justy Tyler, similarly disgraced by the Squadron’s disastrous defeat in the Battle of Bloodmoon. Unlike him, Tyler had not returned to active duty in the Starfighter Corps, instead taking up a position as a flight control co-ordinator.
“Launch Control to Dunn, you are green for launch. Commencing countdown now.
Launch in T-Minus 10…9…8…”

The young pilot’s heart raced in his chest, and his wide grin only grew wider. He loved the adrenaline rush that came just before a launch. Just as he loved the thrill of racing through space, and the terror of engaging an opposing craft in a dogfight. It was moments like those that the disgraced pilot lived for, and even if it was only in some small way, he felt more alive now than he had in days at the prospect of another taste of war.
“7…6…5…”
The sooner he could take this beauty for a spin, he thought as the seconds counted down, the better.

“4…3…2…”
He gripped the throttle in one hand and pushed it forward, knowing that although the launch rack would push him forward, he would be leaving the Adjudicator’s launch bay under his own power. The P-sx7.4 Twin Ion Engine rose in sound from a purr to a roar.
“1…Launch.”
The clamps keeping the TIE Advanced and its pilot firmly within the launch bay released, and the fighter shot out of the Adjudicator at full speed, the roar becoming a high-pitched scream. Dunn privately called it ‘The Emperor’s Battlecry’, though he kept this to himself.

Not many in the Vast Empire felt the deep respect and adoration for the late Emperor that he did.
The moment that the TIE exited the launch bay and shot out into vacuum, the scream seemed to die away as the cold void of space snatched away any medium for the sound to carry, though he could still feel the subtle vibrations of the reactor and engine all around him. He pushed the throttle forward even more, and was kicked back into his seat as the highly advanced craft took him faster than he had ever gone in his life.

Sam Dunn, finally, was home.

“Launch successful. You are to patrol through the debris field, moving to each of these waypoints in turn. Sending co-ordinates to you…now.”
The battle of Sollamens had ended, but in the aftermath, regular patrols had been set up as part of a mop-up operation in all nearby systems, in order to secure the territory that had been captured and ensure that it really was safe – for all the VEN knew, there could be stragglers re-forming for a final push. Dunn, recently restored to flight status but holding off on returning to active duty, had volunteered for the regular patrols.

“Understood. Beginning patrol now.”
As the data appeared on the TIE Advanced’s sensor screen, Sam Dunn eased the control yoke to starboard, then pulled back. His fighter responded immediately, rolling to the right until it was ‘on its side’, then ‘climbing’ to the right of the direction he had previously been travelling in, effectively pulling a right turn. He eased his control yoke back to the position it had first been, and the fighter levelled out. The manoeuvre was exceedingly simple, but it had gone as smooth as butter. Normally, he had to push a little harder than he liked to get the TIE Interceptor to do what he wanted.

The Advanced was way more responsive, and it seemed to instinctively know what he wanted. The smile on his face, hidden under his flight helmet, grew wider. Finally, he had found a starfighter that operated on the same level he did! As he entered the debris field, apparently from a starship battle centuries past, he decided to put the fighter through its paces, taking a more risky route than he would normally have. Lowering the power from his laser weapons to a bare minimum (a common rookie mistake was to power them down entirely, which required them to warm up again when started up, which took time. Dunn had been in enough missions to know how to keep them safely on standby).

He then dumped that power into the Twin Ion Engine, and plunged into the field as the extra power provided another burst of speed, the acceleration once again kicking him back into the pilot’s seat. Pushing down on the control yoke, he dived over what might have once been a Dreadnaught Cruiser, then pulled up and snap-rolled to port in order to avoid an asteroid that had been pulled into the field. Keeping one eye on his sensor screen and on the waypoint in front of him, he ducked, dodged and weaved through the debris. The fighter matched every gentle nudge of the control yoke, and jumped to respond when he put a bit more force into it. It was, he decided, perfect. He simply had to have one.

As he took the ‘scenic’ route through the debris field, he made sure he was angled more or less towards the first waypoint, and was almost disappointed when he made it through the thickest part of the field and towards the wreck of what looked like a Venator-Class Destroyer, bearing ancient Galactic Republic markings. It was where the first waypoint was, making it the first object of interest he was supposed to check out.
“Dunn at the first waypoint. No signs of recent activity. Going in for a closer look.”

The ventral hangar doors of the junked Venator were closed, so he was not able to get a good look at the flight deck that travelled along the spine of the craft, but the small launch bay doors on its bow were open. Approaching the Venator from the rear, he maintained his speed as he brought the little fighter towards the gap between the two large bridge towers, the port-side one little more than a hulk of twisted metal and dangerously jagged debris. Rolling his fighter to port in order to make it, he shot his little fighter through the gap and emerged out on top of the old Venator, flying parallel to the old flight deck.

He was about to cut his speed and continue the roll until he was flying upside-down, when he noticed a pair of tiny red lights in front of him. Glancing at the scanner revealed nothing, but his eyes couldn’t possibly be lying – in front of him were the drive-exhausts of a Twin Ion Engine, attached to what looked like a pearl-white TIE Interceptor that was shooting clear from the very launch bay that he had been planning to inspect!
“Dunn to Adjudicator! TIE Interceptor located at Waypoint 1…identified as the 128th Squadron. Engaging now!”

His targeting computer wasn’t picking anything up – obviously, the same jamming that had caught them off-guard during the Battle of Bloodmoon was still working just fine. Punching the manual override and painting what his sensors read as a floating bit of debris as an opponent, he accelerated to match the target’s velocity as his targeting computer finally went live and started to calculate his target’s trajectory and heading. He switched power from his engines to his Laser Cannons, then hit the throttle to compensate for the loss of speed.

Realizing he was getting a solid target lock, the Saint in front of him began to climb sharply, then rolled over and pushed the manoeuvre further, sending him into a steep dive below the belly of the Venator. Dunn, not fooled, pulled back on the control yoke and climbed, his upside-down elevation causing him to slip past the Venator’s nose and under it, right behind his prey…

…his thumb tightened on the firing button just as an alarm rang in his helmet. Someone else had a target lock on him!

OOC:

Word Count: 2,006
AAR: Dunny, finally returning to flight status, takes a TIE/ad Advanced for a patrol through a debris field…only to find elements of the elite 128th Imperial Dominion Interceptor Squadron are waiting in ambush!

Part 1 of 2.