Some things never change, no matter how much time passes or whatever might change around them. The flying style of a certain pilot would be one of those unchangable things. Anakin Skywalker, now Darth Vader flew with just one style, recklessness. Which had caused a few frayed nerves within the fleet at the thought of what would occur if the dark man decided to try and fly one of his star destroyers the way he flew his TIE fighter. Not that anything was wrong with his flying. He was good! Really good! But, as stated before, he was reckless. Reckless and impulsive which lead Fighter Ace Mithel "Mauler", observer to the current situation, into wondering just how his commander hadn't gotten himself into a nasty scrape he couldn't get out of yet!
The current situation, out of control! Location, above the planet Yavin IV! What was supposed to be an easy task of obliterating the rebel base with Tarkin's newest weapon quickly turned into a hairy close quarters battle. Well, Mithel thought with a shrug. Wouldn't be the first time the rebel's ingenuity had caused the Empire grief. Pulling a wide loop out of another fighter's way as he used his lasers to obliterate a rebel fighter, Mithel caught a glimpse of his commander. Flanked by two other TIE fighters, the distinctive TIE advanced dove into the trench along the Death Star's flank. They rose up a minute later with Vader's TIE knocking down the Rebel fighter they'd clearly been chasing. Engaged by a new rebel, one of the escorting TIE's was forced to break rank and deal with the threat, leaving the door open for Mithel. He quickly fell into position just off his leader's left flank.
Three enemy craft already in the trench and traveling quick. "I'll take them myself." Mithel heard him say. "Cover me."
"Copy, Black Leader."
The escorts were taken care of quickly followed not long after by the leader. The size of the explosion caught him off guard. They must be carrying torpedoes. He realized. These were bombers. It was even more imperative to prevent a successful run.
A second wave of three fighters came in.
"I'm on the leader." Mithel heard Vader say before once again the Sith got on his cannons and knocked both escorts out easily. The leader managed to drop his bombs but they made little impact.
A third wave entered the trench, traveling much faster this time. Mithel had to open the throttle to keep up. Good lord, these rebels didn't give up. The Imperial ace granted them a grudging respect for their tenacity. This time, there was covering fire as the escort off Vader's starboard flank was hit.
"Watch it!" Mithel warned, forced to pull up as Vader swerved to avoid the shrapnel. He came back down again in standard position.
The enemy escort took a hit to the ear but not severe enough to destroy him. After a few moments he pulled up and out of the trench. Mithel readied his cannons.
"Let him go. Stay on the leader." Vader ordered him. This was why the 61st squadron was one of the most feared and elite units in the galaxy. Their kill score wasn't just impressive, but it was kills that really counted. Cut the head of the snake, leave the body to writhe and die the saying went. Mithel wordlessly complied.
He watched his commander take a shot at the rebel who swerved just in time to avoid the worst of the hits. The action forced Vader to slow quickly to avoid overshooting his target and he nearly lost control. In such a confined space, the simplest mistake was often deadly. For anyone except a Sith Lord it appeared as Vader just managed to regain control before he hit the wall.
"You alright Black Leader?" Mithel asked, already knowing the answer.
Vader didn't answer over the comm. Instead, the TIE next to him waggled its wings in reply, the action surprisingly cheeky. Then again, thought Mithel as he suppressed a sigh. It wasn't surprising at all. After all, some things never do change!