HARRIL, 45 ABY - EMPIRE DAY
The X-Wing twisted mid-air as it breached the atmosphere of Harril, just avoiding the green blast of a following TIE-Defender. Although battered and many years older than its counterpart, the X-Wing still managed to move energetically and was a surprisingly easy fly. It almost gave its pilot hope that he might make it out of this confrontation alive. Almost.
The X-Wing began to accelerate as it burst through the grey clouds of Harril and arrived in the blue skies of the world. The TIE-Defender was close behind, shooting its bolts rapidly, yet somehow missing every shot. The pilot of the X-Wing had no doubt that this TIE-Defender Pilot had once been a Stormtrooper; his aim was too bad for him not to have been.
An energy bolt got closer to the X-Wing than any of the TIE-Defender's had before, and the pilot realised that he had very little time before the enemy pilot rectified his aiming and fired a bolt that could actually kill him. The Rebel pilot needed to act now - he needed to loose this foe. Otherwise, he would die. This pilot, without a doubt, did not like the sound of that idea.
He let his hand drop onto the steering and - after letting out a puff of air - yanked it down. The X-Wing immediately jerked in response, dropping in height and getting every closer the nearby mountain rage, peaked with the purist of snow that, if the pilot was not careful, would become his death bed. Another blast from the enemy reminded the Rebel pilot that this was a true opportunity, as the pilot spun around his X-Wing and aimed it at the incoming TIE-Defender. Now was his chance to eliminate the enemy, to deliver a final punch to the foe before the inevitable second TIE-Defender arrived and eliminated him.
The blasts of red from the X-Wing struck the glass front window of the TIE-Defender, shattering it and exposing the enemy pilot inside to the skies of Harril. The X-Wing Pilot had no doubt that his enemy had screamed - begged for mercy. That meant very little; it had meant very little to the Empire when they had eliminated his entire squadron. This, to the X-Wing Pilot - was the perfect vengeance.
He almost forgot to steer his X-Wing out of the way of the TIE-Defender's broken shell, and he would have collided with it if it wasn't for the whizz of more incoming enemy vessels that caused him to awake from his daydreams. The X-Wing pilot instinctively grabbed the steering and veered to the left, into a low hanging cloud. The steamy substance made it impossible for the Pilot to see anything outside of his cockpit, but that didn't bother him.
He would rather not see his killers as they fired their blasters at him and finally eliminated the last of the Red Squadron. He didn't want them to imprint his terrified sweaty face in their memories, so that they could call upon it when they were feeling blue or needed inspiration on a dull day of executing Rebel Prisoners. He wanted them to believe he had died with a grin on his face, or with a victorious cry that he was 'dying for the Rebellion'.
His hopes that the Imperial Forces would truly believe him to be brave in his death were the last. Uncountable beams of green broke into the clouds and forced their way through the X-Wing hull, destroying everything they came across. Cables sparked and split into two, control panels shattered, and the round head of the X-Wing pilot was incinerated into ashes, leaving a headless torso.
The next shots caused even more damage, shattering the front window of the X-Wing and draining the pilot into the abyss. His body was the next to be struck by green, as a blast shot straight through his chest, revealing his crisp burnt inners, and the black flapping remains of his skin under his once-orange-now-ash flight-suit. Another beam hit him, then another. Then another, until there was nothing left of his corpse. Just ashes, left to explore the skies of Harril and slowly descend upon the cities below, like the snow that came to Harril during Winter.
As the ashes of the pilot fluttered effortlessly towards the surface below, one final blast from a hidden TIE-Defender shattered the final pieces of metal that were the X-Wing, turning it into thousands of deadly shards. They too would rain down, only they would cause devastation. Perhaps they would kill an enemy, if they were lucky? Perhaps the annihilated Red Squadron would, in fact, have the final laugh?
Admiral Iralim stood on the Bridge of his Star Destroyer, Eclipse, as he looked out from the massive window at the beautiful crystalline world of Harril. Below, if he squinted carefully, Iralim could see through his pitch black eyes the bursts of green from his own TIE-Defenders, and a small explosion that no doubt accompanied the destruction of an X-Wing.
If Admiral Iralim was correct in his assumption, this X-Wing was the last of the Red Squadron - a squadron that had only arrived on Harril a day before, with the intentions of causing mass destruction on Empire Day. Early this morning, their X-Wings had been discovered by Stormtroopers and Admiral Iralim had ordered their dismantlement. This, obviously, had spurred the pilots into action.
Now all that remained were shards of sharp metal and the occasional floating body part, although many of the bodies had already rained down on cities of Harril, causing slight hysteria. Admiral Iralim assumed that the Rebels would see that as a victory in their war against the Empire; of course, it was not. The Empire won every confrontation with the Rebels - Iralim won every confrontation.
Slowly, the dark skinned figure turned to look at his Imperial Officers who worked tirelessly at their computers. They were of stark contrast to his appearance - unlike his own dark skin, they were all purely white. Unlike his long brown hair, they all had haircuts that made them appear to have rods up their asses. They all wore dark green uniform, unlike Admiral Iralim's white dress-wear, marred with awards of recognition and golden emulates that gave him the appearance of importance.
When his mouth opened, the Admiral talked in a harsh but well spoken voice, in contrast to his officers, who always seemed to speak with soft voices but used the words of savages.
'I would like the surface of Harril to be searched for anymore X-Wings please,' Admiral Iralim begun, his words as mannerly as ever, 'and I would also like the Stormtroopers to enforce that all unexpected visitors be executed swiftly. If they have time before the parade, of course.'
Admiral Iralim smiled as one of his officers dropped his fingers onto a keypad and began to type in his master's orders. The people of Eclipse listened to every world Admiral Iralim spoke as if it were the direct words from the Emperor himself, obeying every little request, whether it be the destruction of the planet or the fetching of a refreshing drink.
Ever since being a child, Admiral Iralim had dreamed of this power, of people bowing down at his feet and following his every request. Now he had down all he could to turn that dream into a reality, and the result had been captivating. The power Admiral Iralim had was beyond insane - he was never questioned, never doubted. Even if he wanted to cancel Empire Day on Harril, his forces would follow him.
So, as Admiral Iralim looked out of the window of his Star Destroyer at the world below him once more, he allowed a grin to creep onto his slim but muscular face. He had no doubt that if there were any Rebels left alive on the world below, they would be eliminated. Then Admiral Iralim could relax and have a delicious meal in his quarters, in the company of these slaves who called themselves 'Officers'.
Jale Corsi fingered the trigger of the ancient blaster in his right hand. It was an E-11 blaster carbine, the weapon once used by the Stormtroopers of the Empire before they had updated their armoury with such blasters as the E-29 or the E-66. In comparison to these newer weapons, the E-11 was inefficient and had a poor shot, but it was the best, and most easy model, to get hold of and Jale had found nothing better. Still, it was remarkably light and did feel quite comfortable in his hands, so at least that was something.
In a few minutes time, Jale would be using this blaster. He was standing amongst a crowd of excited civilians dressed in their best clothes or costumes. In fact, the man in front of Jale was dressed in a Darth Vader costume, although the belt he wore struggled desperately to conceal his oversized stomach. Fists were raised in the air and anthems were sung, as a sense of genuine joy spread across the crowd.
Jale would not be taken in by these villainous senses; Jale was a rebel. Sent to Harril to cause disruption to the Empire and life on this world, he would do as commanded. He would show the Empire that the Rebellion was not going to back down. But first he needed to wait for Admiral Iralim. Jale knew for a fact that the Admiral would be coming to this celebration - every Admiral was required to attend the celebrations of their designated planet. Jale simply had to be patient.
The crowd grew ever more wild as they begin to part to form an aisle, in order for the approaching Stormtroopers to have easy access to an enormous stage that had been built by the men of Harril the night before. An enormous flag sat behind the stage, the symbol of the Empire printed in the centre, and two Shadow Troopers already stood on the stage, their shining armour reflecting the bright beams of the two suns in the sky above. They never flinched, nor moved.
As the Stormtroopers passed by in their perfect march, Jale was able to have a tiny peak over the shoulder of the fat Darth Vader before the fat Darth Vader re-positioned. What Jale saw was well cleaned armour, boots that appeared to be brand new, helmets that were unmarked and without scratch, brand new E-66s, no doubt brought to this world in the last day or to. What Jale didn't see was Admiral Iralim.
The man in the clear white uniform with the golden emblems. No where to be seen.
Jale breathed a sigh of frustration as he let his right hand relax; the E-11 carbine blaster dropped to his side. He had come all this way and had spent a day in the presence of Empire-supporting scumbags in order to have a shot at Admiral Iralim, and he hadn't even arrived. X-Wing pilots had lost their lives for this cause! The Rebel Squadron had been torn apart for this! All for the excuse of a forced visit by Admiral Iralim, in order to not just celebrate the victorious Empire, but also warn the citizens of Harril against Rebellion.
Everything, every life lost, for nothing. Jale refused to accept this. He refused to accept that Admiral Iralim wouldn't come down to the surface on Empire Day. He refused to believe that he wouldn't get to execute that well respected Imperial in front of a crowd of Admiral Iralim's supporters, inevitably leading to his own death. This simply wasn't fair.
Slowly, Jale moved the E-11 back up into a perfect shooting position and allowed his index finger to find the trigger again. He would not allow Harril to comfortably celebrate such an evil occasion without giving them a few surprises... Jale checked that his blaster was loaded correctly before he attempted to take aim through the sight. Sadly, his vision was blocked by the fat Darth Vader.
That wasn't a problem for long. A single jab from the blade in Jale's left hand straight into the man's neck took him down to the floor, flattening a few others in front of him also. No body seemed to notice or care; they simply assumed that he had fainted, and a lot of people had fainted. Instead, they noticed the E-11 in Jale's hands, and the knife that was being returned to his belt.
Before anybody could stop him, Jale aimed his blaster at a Stormtrooper in the march and fired. A single blast shot through the helmet, leaving a tiny orange ringed hole and a corpse. The other Stormtroopers didn't have chance to react; Jale had already begun to fire at him with his own weapon. The E-11 hit another trooper in the chest, sending him flying before he hit the ground with a solid thump.
The crowd around Jale was unsure of how to react as Jale took cover behind the fat man's body and took aim once more. This time it was at an Imperial Officer, hiding behind two Stormtroopers who seemed to be his human shield. The Officer was a slimy man, with a greasy face and short grey hair that was in desperate need of a shower. Then, moments later, the need for a shower disappeared. Instead, it was replaced with the need for a doctor, as a blast had shot through the Officer's eye. The Officer - of course - screamed, but he didn't have chance to say much more as Jale fired yet another bolt into the Officer's body.
The Stormtroopers responded by raising their own E-66s and firing into the crowd. They didn't care who they hit, as long as they hit something, and soon a pile of bodies was beginning to form. Citizens of Harril instantly attempted to flee, heading out into roads besides the stage, but the Stormtroopers continued to fire out of hope that they would block off any escape and be able to find the Rebel culprit for this attack.
Jale was already darting away; he had seen the capability of the E-66s, and knew that if the Stormtroopers were able to spot him he would be dead in a matter of seconds, however bad their aim. He had caused enough chaos already, with Stormtroopers firing into the crowd and an Officer dead. Making an escape would be the best option in this moment.
Jale acted on instinct, scooping up the mask of yet another dead cos-player, and hiding away his face under the guise of Darth Vader. Then he dropped his leather jacket to the ground and replaced it with a thick blue coat, with appeared to have a DC-17 in its pocket. Again, Jale acted instinctively and dropped his E-11, as he knew that the Stormtroopers would recognise the weapon.
He was embraced by the crowd as they made their escape into the road, followed closely by the firing Stormtroopers, but soon he had pushed himself into a safe position. The crowd carried on forwards, despite the blasts that were being fired into them, and Jale allowed himself to breath. He wasn't out of this deadly situation yet, but soon enough he would be.
Soon enough he'd be back at Tatooine, the new home of the Rebellion, where he would be celebrated as a great soldier and much needed trooper. Then, one day, he'd return to Harril with more X-Wings and troops, and they'd wreak havoc on this world.
It was the Rebel way.