The Birth of Angel Squadren
"watch it, you got one on your left!" the radio crackles to life
"pull left ill get on him." another voice said over the radio
He groaned and sat up. looking out the cockpit window he saw nothing but black and stars. reaching across him he flipped the ignition switch. The craft tried to start then died down. a surge of energy shot through the craft as the ion engines tried to fire back up. Flicking the switch over and over nothing happened. just the sound of power trying to be brought up then dying down. He pulled up the crafts information on the display. Major damage had been done to the power supply and the hyperdrive. the glowing red patches of craft on the screen sent chills down his spine. he was, in a sense, dead in space. The life support system started blinking red. the flashing light a warning that soon he would be out of oxygen. He pulled the buckles off and began shutting down everything but the ships life support.
"Angel three, do you copy?" the radio cracked again admist static.
"hello? hello?" he said into the microphone built into the helmet. no response. Despertly he tried to turn and look around but to no avail. He listened as an unseen fight went on. call outs from other pilots crowded his radio.
god he missed his old ship, much more reliable then this replacement. The Z-95 headhunter was an excellent craft yet had to be retrofitted with a crude hyperdrive and he had no astromech to assist in navigation or repairs. he felt a jerk and a large triangle snapped craft dropped out of hyper space. green turbo laser blasts blinded him as bolts fired from the craft with loud blasts.
"star destroyer has just dropped out of hyperspace." another voice said
"multiple ties incoming, gold Squadren what is your progress?"
"none, the shields are still up and we can't get to the fuel cells. they must be outfitting them with partial shields now, torpidos or missiles do no damage."
he pulled his blaster out of the orange flight suits holster. he could feel darkness as the ship past over him. he watched every bump and curve in the durasteel the craft was made out of.
"thats it I'm calling it, all fighters make for hyperspace jump one, you can go when your clear."
"what about angel three?"
"he's floating dead in space right under the star destroyer, there's nothing we can do but hope he's dead."
seconds later the light blinking red stopped. he pulled up the life support systems to find them offline. what oxygen he had left was in the small cockpit. he groaned and settled down, in seconds he would be unconcous in minuets dead.
the ships fell out of hyperspace over yavin IV. the lead, a older man, pulled the strap on his helmet off and settled back into the flight seat. he pulled the craft down into the atmosphere and down to the planets surface. a rough landing zone had been created by reremicing a few native trees. he spun the craft into place and settled it down onto the landing gear. the astromech behind him opened the canopy for him. fresh jungle air rushed in to greet him. he pulled the helmet off and slowly climbed out and onto the dirt ground. he left the helmet in the craft and walked down the line. some were still landing, some had already touched down. All covered in sweat and tired faces. he walked into a shack built out of dirt and fallen logs, half burried in the ground. the men in the room around a central holotable snapped to attention. he motioned them off with a wave. he sat in a chair off out of the way as they cordnated the landing craft.
"how did it go admiral?" a womans voice said, she had just stepped into the command room
"bad" was the only word he could come up with without saying something in front of a lady.
"did you get the fuel transport?"
"no."
"destroy it?"
"no."
"dann why the he'll would you let a fool thing like that happen jack?" she said leaning against the wall
"not much of a choice, it was a trap." she could hear the sound of defeat in his voice, "they were partial shielded so Gold Squadrens torpedoes couldn't reach the target, and the escort was heavily armered this with a star destroyer not to far behind."
"damn. our fault we've become predictable." she said running the numbers in her head
"I lost a lot of good people today. three more X-Wings, a Z-95 and two Y-Wings."
"Z-95? The head hunter?" she said, "that kid wasn't worth your time or trouble he was a blemish on your..."
"He is a great pilot, and he has heart which is more then I can say for present company."
she gave him a disgusted look, "Ryan was a problem child, an orphan, and you took him in." she walked out of the bunker and left him sitting alone thinking.
"sir, forces are due to be landing at the temples near by soon," a kid said looking up from a data computer. he had to shout over the noise in the room.
"mmmm" he groaned as a response. his mind lost at seeing the Z-95 floating in space. He hoped he was dead, it would be a fate far superior to what would await him if the empire had gotten him.
outside the bunker
She pulled a comm link off her belt as she walked towards the shuttle. It was a hijacked lambarda class shuttle used by the empire to move between ships and planets. she keyed the comm link as she walked, watching the blue flickering hologram come to life.
"well?" the man in the blue image said
"General Draven, Jack failed, the transports got through, and presumably one got captured. A Ryan Caedrat."
"is Ryan dangerous?" Craven asked. she was stepping onto the loading ramp of the stolen craft as he asked
"extremely. your orders?"
"kill Ryan, whatever it takes. word must not get out about the base."
"understood." the blue image flickered and dissapeared. she settled down into the flight seat and warmed up the engines.
Imperial Star Destroyer Benevolence
He groaned as they dragged him down the hall. vision fading in and out. He could hear the door hiss open then shut as he was dropped mercilessly inside. His mind blank, he couldn't think. he knew something, but it was gone. something had been in there, information of sorts, secrets, memories, knowledge. now only the basics were there. breath in, breath out. eat drink, speak. everything else gone. He felt incomplete, he felt loss. What happened? where was he? who was he? question he could not answer.