Unfriendly Skies, a star wars fanfic

"Just another one of those worlds. One more to add to the Emperor's list", the Flight Leader of Beta squadron spoke over the comlink. It did appear to be just that. This planet would merely be another world for the Empire to conquer.

Two clouds of twelve TIE Bombers flying in Vic formation, an arrowhead shape, descended into the orange skies that hung over the planet Villinarca, a Mid-Rim world. It was an agricultural planet, still many years behind technologically, and definitely no match for the might of the Imperial fleet that currently had any escape routes blocked, to prevent those that so wished, from fleeing.

At around eight hundred metres above the ground they flew. Over and over the miles of rolling plains, where the orange Tarraga crops grew, and the occasional orchards where thrived the squigg fruit of the same colour, vegetation that affected the very appearance of the sky, making it look as if there was a permanent sunset.

Flying behind in the second wave, not quite up front, nor at the back of the squadron, sat the pilot in the bomber designated Beta Six. Ahead of him he could see the spearhead that made up Alpha flight, which looked ready to impale the heart of their primary target.

"Bearing course 214" said the pilot, Alpha One, the very lead craft and in command of both flights. The two deadly squadrons were getting ever nearer to the target. In a matter of minutes it would appear before them and so everyone kept their eyes peeled for visual sighting.

"What exactly is our target?" piped up Beta Six, a young man named Trig Finn. It was his first combat operation, and he was fresh from flight training. He couldn't actually recall the officers at the briefing explaining to them what they were going after, but he did have confidence in his fellow veterans. It was just curiosity.

"Target is on a need-to-know basis, Beta Six", replied Beta leader, "You'll find out when you hit it". Evidently the leaders knew what the objective was and that was enough for Trig. He just didn't want to make a big mistake on his first ever mission, such as hitting the wrong thing or any number of other disastrous consequences he could think of.

Trig still wondered what the purpose of the mission was though, and he was very interested to find out what he would be dropping his bombs on. However, there was no further comment because he respected his flight leader's words, and so pondered this alone, in silence.

"Turning to bear course 224", ordered Alpha One, "This is it guys, we'll be on the target in minutes. Stand by to launch ordinance".

The pilots at that moment activated the weaponry that resided within their bomb bays. Trig had done this many times during his training in simulators, and it had now become second nature, his hand automatically searching out the correct switch without the need to look for it visually. This allowed him to keep his eyes on the main controls and what was happening directly in front of him.

The eight proton bombs inside his craft were now primed and ready. Within moments he would be jettisoning the explosive blue spheres and his first mission would be complete. The lead flight also did likewise with their armament of sixty-four thermal detonators, per ship, a smaller, but no less lethal armament. Trig had never seen a thermal detonator explode before, but from what he had heard, the smaller size of the device did not mean that it was any less destructive.

On the horizon, Trig could just make out the fairly large city beginning to emerge. There were no skyscrapers at all; the civilisation seeming to consist of low, level buildings of no more than two or three storeys. Being from Coruscant, the lack of a towering skyline was an unusual sight for him.

He stared intently through the transparisteel view-port, trying to search out the military installation that they were to hit. The city before the two squadrons didn't appear to have any distinguishing military features, but Trig knew that looks could always deceive. He looked harder anyhow, but his eyes failed to pick out anything special. I'll know in a minute, I'll know in a minute, he thought to himself, just need to concentrate on flying for the moment.

"Incoming bombers, we have incoming bombers", the urgent voice echoed around the control room, which was now in chaos. All the personnel who were stationed there were clueless of what they were meant to be doing. Rushing around between the different computer consoles within the room, as if they were caught up in some kind of a storm, it was the very image of panic.

"Oh please no, please", muttered one of the panic-stricken officers to himself. He had heard too much about Imperial atrocities on the world's that the Empire had decided to conquer; of what the storm-troopers did, of what the walkers did, and of what the TIE fighters did. Bombers were even worse. They had even more firepower to reign destruction down upon the defenceless. Sure the fighters would strafe anything, especially any fleeing civilians they encountered, but the bombers. They would just lay waste to an entire city, reducing it to rubble of proportions similar to the great battles waged in other parts of the galaxy. And many would die, all because of the Emperor's decision that Villinarca was to be placed under Imperial control. Imperial protection was the ironic term the Empire used.

"Count is twenty-four crafts, two squadrons", announced the ever-so calm voice of one of his contemporaries, who was sat gazing at a screen. How anyone could remain so placid in a time like this was beyond this terrified officer.

"All defence systems are online, you may commence firing as soon as they reach point 388". After this command, all anyone in the room could do was wait, and stare at the two sets of red blips displayed on the console screens, for what seemed like an eternity. When up against a superior foe, the best thing to do was to try not to provoke their wrath. Therefore point 388 would be the turning point. Once the TIE Bombers reached this location, not only would they then be within range, but also whatever defences the people of Villinarca had would be invoked upon the Imperial bombers.

A few miles outside the city's border, an immensely long line of assorted Anti-Aircraft defence weaponry slowly began to emerge from within the ground, set upon great monolith like structures. The barrels aimed skyward, cautious gunners sat perched in control of the aged but nevertheless destructive implements of warfare.

There were archaic rocket launchers, an expensive and limited, but highly effective method of resistance, as well as smaller, but older laser turrets of a less superior quality than their Imperial counterparts. Nonetheless, the turrets had a fast rotation and a rapid-fire capability, which would prove vital if they were to be used in an anti-aircraft role against fast moving and airborne targets, though the charging rates of these deficient weapons were quite horrendous next to what the Empire had to offer.

The third, and probably most sufficient weapon for the job at hand was a plasma turret capable of firing lasers that burst with the power equal to that of a concussion grenade, upon reaching a pre-set height. Dating back to well before the Clone Wars, all of these weapons, the majority being the cheaper and more easily produced rapid-fire turrets, were merely adequate examples of protection. However, adequate was nothing when up against the Empire's forces.

Trig could now make out small shapes that glinted in the sun. He could have sworn that they hadn't been there a moment ago, but he could definitely see that they were there now. The first blast went off not long after he first noticed this strange addition to the scenery, a puff of black smoke appearing quite close off of his port wing, accompanied by a low and deep thud. His craft shook at the concussion effect, but otherwise kept flying without any problems.

"We're taking fire, hold tight", ordered the calm and professional voice of Alpha Leader, "This is nothing compared to what I've experienced before."

Even so, Trig was very wary and conscious of the fact that other people were shooting at him. Poor fools, he thought, if only they knew that the Empire is the best thing for them, then we wouldn't need to do what we are doing right now.

More explosions made themselves known, the sky becoming denser and a lot more hazardous with them. His bomber continued to tremble at the blasts that were occurring all around, though only slightly. Trig could see purple bolts of energy darting up towards them and erupting throughout the squadron. A sudden explosion and the ugly sound of screeching and pattering against Titanium hull and Quadranium Steel sounded like a thunderclap at that moment. It sounded unhealthy, and Trig had a terrible thought for one second that his TIE may have been damaged, and that he wouldn't be able to make it back to the command ship. In other words, he would be stuck planet-side, and at the mercy of the inhabitants, who wouldn't be too happy about what he and his fellow pilots had been up to. This great feeling of discomfort didn't last long though.

"This is Beta Eight, one of those plasma bursts just took a chunk out of my wing", reported the pilot, a man Trig had trained with and knew quite well. Trig couldn't see and assess how bad the damage was, that was being claimed, since Eight was behind him, but he could imagine his friend's craft with a big jagged tear on one of the solar panels. Minor damage in itself, but any damage is unwanted damage. Better he than me, though, thought Trig, under the basic principle that he should be thankful it wasn't him that suffered the blast.

"Can you hold your course, Beta Eight?" question Alpha Leader.

"Yes, but I'm starting to smoke..." started the reply. Evidently the damage was worse than a simple tear in the solar panels. Evidently one of the tow elongated pods that made up the bomber craft had been hit, for hazardous vapour now leaked into the atmosphere, accompanied by the menace of ignition a flames began to lick inside the sophisticated machine.

"Can you hold your course, Eight?" the leader cut in, a sharp tone in his voice, so as to get just the information he wanted.

"Yes..." Eight began to continue, but was again interrupted by the superior ranking officer leading the groups.

"Then keep in formation, and carry out the attack as planned", ordered Alpha One.

The skies were now filled with another type of fire, the yellowish streaming darts of the rapid-fire turrets, which raked away at the sky, fingers of tracer groping away. It seemed to be that either the people of Villinarca didn't have enough guns to defend with, or they were simply terrible shots. From the amount of fire in this unfriendly sky, Trig felt the latter was more likely. Only Eight had been struck, and he still flew on regardless. They must really be panicking down there, thought Trig, feeling a slight touch of compassion for those who he was fighting against.

"We're almost upon our target, gentlemen", came Alpha One's voice, now brimming with enthusiasm, "Pick whichever targets you desire but cause as much devastation as possible. Try to aim for roads and other transportation networks, Alpha group. The thermal detonators will catch those foolish enough to still be wandering around in an air raid..."

"What!" Trig's yell of protest came clear through the intercom, as he suddenly realised what his task involved. This isn't what I became a pilot for, he thought. He couldn't believe how naïve he had been.

"Beta Six, is there a problem?" asked Alpha One, a little peeved about the interruption.

"You mean we're bombing civilians?" Trig was appalled. He had thought he would have been striking at military targets, and only military targets, not at an innocent populace.

"That is the purpose of this mission, pilot", said the now agitated leader, "We are here to set an example to these people. It is no different from what we have already done on other worlds".

Trig couldn't believe this. He had never thought that such atrocious things were possible. He had always thought the Empire as justice. His first mission was nothing to be proud of at all. A blitz, a terror raid, a rain of annihilation brought to murder the uninvolved. Some first mission.

Trig contemplated breaking off from the attack group and returning to the Star Destroyer, but the leader foresaw that this might happen and reminded the unsuspecting pilot of what would happen to those that did such a thing.

"Beta Six, I hope your not thinking about breaking off, because if you do you will be severely reprimanded. You know what happens to traitors, don't you?" his words were mocking and ruthless.

There was no choice. Trig had to carry out his objectives, no matter how unjust.

"As I was saying", continued Alpha One, "Beta group, after we have pulled out you may proceed bombing with your proton bombs. Try to aim for buildings that will be holding large numbers of people such as hospitals or even hotels."

Trig couldn't help but feel those last comments were aimed at him. He could imagine the sadistic smile on the leader's face, even though it would have been hidden behind the masked helmet worn by all TIE pilots.

"Don't even think about doing a bad job, Finn", spoke the leader in a provoking tone, "I've seen your high scores on the simulators and I expect your death count to be one of the best". This remark caused Trig to cringe somewhat. There was no escape for him. He would have to deal with this mission, or he himself would be dealt with.

As if they could find out exactly whose bombs had done the most damage. But contributing to the massacre was bad enough. Trig felt sick in the pit of his stomach.

Manning one of the rocket launcher sites; a lone gunnery officer watched the incoming TIE craft. He stared at them and the erupting sky around them. All of a sudden a green light flicked on, on the control console of the old weapon. They were now in range.

Taking a careful aim at one of the bombers, one that was trailing slight smoke, he got a lock. Wounded, he thought, and probably our only chance at getting a score from any of them. It's the least I can do. His hand squeezed against the primitive trigger plate. The weapon roared into life, launching all four of its missiles in quick succession. With a sad smile, the operator of the device watched as the projectiles arched upwards towards the invading bombers. Go get em', he thought.

All around, the few other rocket launchers that made up part of the defence line did likewise, dull white smoke gushing from the sites, and covering those that had just fired the instruments of protection.

Trig had just been worrying further into his dilemma, when he noticed the approaching rockets. At first he was confused to as what they were. He had failed to notice the sudden activity of the launchings, despite the several warning lights flashing and sounding alarms within the cockpit.

When he did though, it was much too late.

A scream through the intercom, and a deafening explosion marked the end of Beta Eight. He had seen it coming, Trig thought, but the damage he'd sustained had made him a sitting duck for even the most ancient of weapon systems. The sick feeling intensified, this time for different reasons.

"Chen!" he hollered in futile, as he yanked back on the control yoke to take evasive manoeuvres. The force of the destruction threw Trig's bomber forward, and he had to be quick to prevent his craft from going into the rear of the one in front. The other missiles were still searching for their targets though, and his senses buzzed.

All bombers were in the same situation. Both formations had broken up and were desperately trying to evade the missiles. Trig's sensors were going haywire, and the caution alarms were deafening all around the cockpit. He was beginning to feel the strain quite physically, as a vein pumped away quite noticeably on the side of his head. Sweat began to trickle down the inside of his helmet, and he gritted his teeth. Over the din made by the cockpit instruments, he heard Alpha One shout out.

"Enemy rockets have dissipated...Repeat, the rockets have dissipated", he informed both squadrons, " Close up formation", he then ordered gruffly, almost as if he was a little embarrassed about the enemy warheads having actually caused a nuisance.

It took a few seconds to realise, but upon taking a proper look at his sensors, they showed that although there were missile warnings, the actual warning light for a 'lock' had remained off. The rockets had evidently run out of fuel and so could no longer remain airborne to pursue victims, like they had Beta Eight. In other words, a couple had hit his unfortunate friend, while the rest had overshot. Evidently, all the launchers had targeted the same craft.

"Their missiles were of a very obsolete quality", explained the leader, "Still, they shall all pay dearly for this. Destroyer Command..." he now addressed a new audience, "We are encountering resistance, send TIE Fighters..."

He ordered a couple of fighter craft as casually as ordering a meal, asking for two pilots with good marksmanship, so that targeting individuals would be no problem for them.

But it was that moment that the loss of Eight really hit Trig. And it sunk in deep.

"He's gone", he muttered to himself, "Gone..."

A tight lump developed in his throat and he could no longer utter a word. He carried on flying, heading towards the target, no longer caring about the innocents on the streets. Alpha One just so happened to hear the words though, and offered his own input, whether it was wanted or not. Trig's fellow flyers remained silent.

"I'm sorry you lost your friend, Finn", he said, "I'm sorry you had to find out the hard way, but this is war. We're not the only ones who kill and there's good reason for this mission. And I know you'll carry out the Emperor's work well today". He stopped there; thinking it would be enough. It was.

A feeling of hatred for those immediately conjured up inside of Trig. Moments earlier he had protested about taking part in a terror raid. Now, he was glad to be one of its members.

A sudden roar from overhead signalled the arrival of the two TIE fighters, their profiles clearly visible against the backdrop of the orange sky. They deserve it, Trig now thought, every last one of them.

Standing alongside the rapid-fire cannon he froze. The two distinctive shapes of the TIE Fighters were coming closer and closer. This is it, he thought, there is no point in resisting anymore. We've lost. A tear rolled down his rough, aged skin. We've failed. We can't succeed against them.

Within moments he knew no more, cut down by laser fire as the TIE Fighters strafed the defence lines unmercifully. All along the fields from whence the turrets had emerged, people died, and the structures themselves were reduced to piles of semi-melted rubble. The empty husks of the rocket launchers had been abandoned, but the plasma and rapid-fire turrets still had people manning them, blazing away at the sky. In waves of incineration, the fire shot out from the twin laser cannons from the Imperial fighter-craft and incinerated any that were caught in the path. After a mere minute or two, the fighters left, leaving behind scorched fields pockmarked with charred holes and flaming crops.

"Thank-you Gamma flight", said Alpha One.

All was calm now. The guns had fallen silent. No longer did the air around them explode furiously. The only sound was the powerful roar of the Twin Ion Engines that powered the bombers towards their destination.

The city was almost underneath them now. Trig could see the many details, such as parked speeders and people, civilians with no idea where to go. Their confusion and the abundance of targets made him smile, almost insanely.

"Alpha group, we attack now, Beta group, follow up once we're out of there", Alpha One gave the command abruptly and effectively. The first arrowhead seemed to explode and disperse as the TIE Bombers split up and dive-bombed the civilisation below, screaming downward like hellfire.

"Bombs gone".

The many thermal detonators, each a sphere of incineration, rained down upon the city, many falling into the streets that were littered with the terrified occupants.

The bright glare from the explosives lit up the dying hours of that evening. Hundreds of the devices detonated. Seven hundred and sixty-eight to be exact, destroying buildings and vehicles, each explosion creating an orb of combustion that reduced people unfortunate to be right next to one, to nothing but smouldering ashes. Those unfortunates to be just outside of the five-metre incineration radius instead got ripped apart by concussion and shrapnel. Trig enjoyed visualising the carnage of those who had taken his friend.

One of the detonators, unlike the others, failed to go off when it hit the ground. It bounced and rolled along, down one alleyway that was practically abandoned, all expect for one. A young woman had her hands over her head and was lying flat against the pavement. She knew the chaos around her and so lay petrified, her fear causing her to shake all over. All around, the noise of shrieking people desperate to stay alive and the 'thoom' of explosions echoed through the walls and within her mind. She hoped she would be lucky.

It was ironic.

The thermal detonator rolled to a stop, a few inches from her. It had been aimed at a completely different street, but thanks to a grim twist of fate the device had now arrived at her. She looked up, and stared at it, her eyes growing wide in terror, focusing on the deadly device.

A red light flicked once and then twice and then for a third time. It was definitely not a dud.

'THOOM!'

Her life ended.

Trig witnessed this particular loss of life, though he had no idea what the perishing figure below would have looked like. All he could see was a figure, and he smiled as the being was vaporised.

The resulting detonation was equally as impressive as the others were. But this time he got to see the person who was annihilated by it. He felt no pity. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, he thought darkly.

"Beta group, this is Alpha One", the voice crackled over the intercom, "We have finished our attack, follow up". It was Trig's turn now.

The second arrow headed straight into action.

As Trig dived with his wing-mates upon the city he dropped the first couple of bombs. Two blue orbs were flung from the bomb bay of his craft, and landed accurately in a clearing occupied with an assortment of civilian vehicles. Pulling up, he didn't get to see the result, but was satisfied with the tremendous explosion that occurred, which almost pushed his own craft skyward like a gigantic hand.

"Nice hit, Beta Eight", congratulated one of his fellow flyers. It was indeed a successful start to the raid. Landspeeders lay wrecked and ripped open, flame billowing from their engines. Swoop bikes that had been parked in the area were now practically non-existent, with only twisted, blackened structures left in their place. Now flying level, he turned his craft around to finish off the attack.

Calculating the precise trajectory of the proton bombs carefully, he dropped them one by one in a strategic fashion. Beneath him, a large sized building, probably used as an apartment, exploded into rubble after contact with his third bomb. His fourth claimed a cantina, his fifth another fairly big building, with the device landing in the main entrance. This hit caused a few particularly gruesome death, since there were some fleeing the targeted building at the moment the bomb landed, and the frames for the door ways were ripped from their structures and flung at high velocity through the bodies of those trying to escape. In one case, a man was thrown by the force of the explosion, across the street, and pinned to the wall of the opposite building.

There were three bombs left now, and he knew how he was going to spend them. Maliciously he noticed one of the tallest buildings, though only a mere three storeys, resembled a hospital. He noticed a red cross upon its roof, where an airspeeder was also parked. The area around it was also full of speeders and most importantly, people.

Roaring in at full throttle he skimmed the rooftops, almost coming down to street level. Before him he saw the masses of fleeing civilians parting in front of him. Then, at the last minute, he jettisoned his remaining bombs and yanked back hard on the flight controls. Shooting up almost vertical he heard the triple impact of the devices, which caused his bomber to shake in the air. A direct hit.

Number six landed just before the establishment, blowing a huge crater in the street-ways immediately before it, and scattering the large number of those unfortunate enough to have been there at the time into a shower of mutilated body chunks.

The seventh, like in the case with the fifth, hit the entrance. It didn't stop there though. It shot down the corridor and detonated in the main operating theatre. Had Trig been able to witness this, he would have been especially proud. The eighth also ended up inside, going through one of the top windows and causing extensive damage to the building, and causing significant structural failure.

After climbing back to a decent altitude with which to survey the damage done, Trig looked back down upon the chaos below him. The part of the city they had attacked was in ruins, smoke emanating from many places and craters pock-marking the areas where the bombs had landed. The main attack was over, after a meagre few minutes. Now it was time for the best bit, thought Trig, his job not yet complete.

Diving once again, this time a lot more shallowly, he followed along one of the main roads, which was, like so many areas in the city, jammed full of despairing civilians.

This time he did fly at street level, the ground only metres below him. Having been so skilful in the simulators, he was confident about flying so low. His targets were now up close, and personal. Activating his ship's two laser cannons, his thumb rested excitedly against the trigger.

The deafening roar was coming ever closer. Looking back, past her screaming fellow citizens, she could make out the shape of the approaching TIE Bomber, a truly terrifying sight. With the infamous angular wings, and distinctive two pods, it was one of the largest of the dreaded TIE craft, and perhaps the most destructive against anyone unlucky enough to be caught on the ground.

In her arms she clutched an infant, her baby, oblivious to the danger all around. Green fire lashed out from the craft, and she saw men, women, and children, fall. The sound of the laser cannons was even more hideous than the psychological fear generated by the roar of the craft's engines.

Its profile was clearer now, the cockpit screen even visible, and soon the pilot too. She couldn't move her legs, paralysed from the waist down, just like in a bad dream. This was no nightmare though. She held her child tight and waited for the end, all she could do.

Through the waves and waves of terror-stricken people, he could see each one die, mere metres away, after being hit from his lasers. The looks of shock on their faces, which quickly etched themselves into his mind's eye before he could pass them. The looks of pain on others, as the energy burned through their bodies. And the looks of confusion on those who were only children, too young to understand why he was doing this. Why? Why? Trig thought to himself. Why? I've completed my mission, so why am I continuing with the killing? Why?

He saw the figure up ahead and the bundle in her arms as well, standing still amidst the mayhem. He squeezed the trigger. The target erupted into nothing after catching a full burst of lasers, incinerating flesh, sinew and bone.

"Alpha and Beta Groups, finish your attack, we're returning to the fleet", ordered Alpha One. Trig obeyed and once again he pulled back on the yoke, and pushed forward on the throttle to accelerate him away from the total devastation behind him.

Above, the orange brilliance of the sky faded and was replaced by the dark and familiar star screen Trig had so often come to know from gazing out of the window in his cabin, aboard the Destroyer where he was stationed.

Had Villinarca not had its orange atmosphere though, the sky would have stilled glowed that colour. A city lay ablaze, totally destroyed, and almost all the inhabitants eradicated from existence. With the Capital in ruins, it would no doubt fall soon. How the Admirals and the Generals would revel in such an example of Imperial performance.

The ominous shape of the star-ship grew larger and larger. Eventually the tractor beams engaged and he relaxed as his craft was drawn into the hanger bay. A squad of storm-troopers were already waiting, standing perfectly still, along with the officer waiting to debrief them.

Once the bomber came to a stop, once it had fixed itself up on the gantry, Trig opened the hatch and climbed out, weary. Like he usually did after a mission, he took of his helmet as soon as possible, relieved to feel the air against his skin again. Unlike those he had killed just now. The lasers and explosives that had come from his bomber had fried their skin, as well as the rest of them.

Soon he was down among those who had flown with him that day, standing in a line opposite the stormtroopers. They were all men again, and not machines.

"Congratulations Alpha and Beta flights, the mission was a complete success", said the officer, "We have just got reports back and it seems that in Vilon alone over 20,000 have been killed in this one strike, which is a remarkable achievement. I see some of you put your training to good use and delivered in areas of high density".

That last part was addressed to no one in particular, but Trig felt it was directly aimed at him.

"Thank-you sir", replied the man who had been Alpha One, "We lost a man though, despite our superior force. After we've all rested, I suggest a follow-up raid to avenge our comrade".

Trig thought hard about the loss of Chen. He had been a true friend, and he guessed that his death hadn't yet fully sunk in. With time though, it would.

"Ah, well, I'm sorry to hear that", came the officer's reply, not sounding as if he meant it too much, "He did die for a noble cause though. And, despite there being no strategic need for such a mission", he wavered, then said, "Permission granted. It will help promote the psychological aspect of the war, as well as heighten morale".

"Thank-you, sir", said Alpha One, with a satisfied smile. He looked powerful, well-built muscularly, and a born leader. Truly, he was someone proud to serve the Emperor.

"Fall out!"

Overhead another squadron readied themselves for action, pilots making their way to their crafts up on the gantries, and off to continue the blitz on other settlements like Vilon. This hadn't been far from a one off raid, but a prelude to a great devastating campaign of terror and destruction, one that would last an entire month. Such would be the resistance of the people of Villinarca, that they would stand their ground until their cities were pounded into nothingness. And Trig had no choice but to be a part of it again.

Both the TIE pilots and the stormtroopers exited the hanger, after the officer swivelled on his foot with military precision and departed.

Lying on his bed that night, Trig's mind was a flurry with thoughts. He had turned down offers by his squadron-mates to celebrate the success in one of the entertainment lounges. So he lay alone, in the dark, on an Imperial bed, in an Imperial room on an Imperial ship.

He missed Chen, and still couldn't believe that he would never see him again. He hadn't been his best friend, but they had been close enough, and Trig was still horrified with how untimely his death had been. But what horrified Trig even more so was what he himself had just taken part in, and also of what he had done of his own accord.

Hours earlier he had been murdering innocent people as they helplessly tried to get out of the way as he piloted his TIE Bomber towards them and bombed and strafed them into oblivion. He felt sick with himself. He had enjoyed every second of it, at that moment, carefully aiming his ordinance so that it caused the maximum amount of damage and casualties. And after that he had shot at them, at point blank range, at a range near enough to observe individual faces. The figure that had stood before him, almost defiantly, but almost definitely, in fear, came to his mind. And it didn't go. He knew she had been a woman with her infant, but he had still cut her down.

"Who am I?" he said aloud, to no one.

Trig covered his face with his hands and cried himself to sleep.