Prologue
High above the dusky-orange sphere that was Atollon, a small cluster of warships hung in orbit. At the center of the formation was a large, wedge-shaped vessel, the quartet of gaping hangar bays giving testament to it's classification of a carrier. Surrounding the white-hulled carrier were a handful of swift A-Wing fighters that flitted about on sentry duty, patrolling the hyperspace entry and exit points around the planet.
One of the fighters flew close to the main exit point before Atollon proper, the A-Wing's huge Novaldex thrusters emanating a slow burn as it glided. Strapped into the cockpit seat, the pilot was a muscular man of less than average height. Clad in a green flightsuit complete with white helmet and grey gloves, the pilot's name was Vairn. The sole survivor of the mysterious attack on the corvette Beldon three months ago, he had been transferred to starfighter duty until the Hammerhead corvette was fully repaired and ready to return to active duty.
Swerving the A-Wing in a leisurely patrol circle, Vairn had a relaxed grip on the stick when his proximity alarms began to blare. Grabbing hold of the yoke with both hands, he scanned the sensors for the source and brought the fighter around to face in the direction of the impending arrival. A moment later, his sensor detected a very faint reversion in realspace. Almost as if a ship had exited hyperspace, but didn't appear on any scanners.
Looking out the transparisteel canopy, Vairn squinted at the void, searching for the phantom ship. A second later he though he saw something, A black silhouette of a ship, barely visible against the dark void of space, discernable only by the absence of stars visible where it hung in space. Even as Vairn tried to get a closer look at it, the ship's engines fired and it shot past him in a flash.
Reacting quickly, Vairn swung his A-Wing around and rocketed after the mystery ship, calling full power to his own engines. He could see the interloper now, it's sleek black hull illuminated by the bright wash of it's dual engines. With a start, he realized that the ship was in fact an A-Wing, identical to his own in model. The only difference was its jet-black paint scheme, a stark contrast to the blue and white colors of Vairn's own fighter.
As Vairn chased after the dark ship, he toggled his internal comm.
"Phoenix Nest, this is Phoenix Seven. Unidentified ship heading your way. An A-Wing with a black paint job!"
A female voice crackled over his cockpit speakers.
"Copy Phoenix Seven. Continue your pursuit. The rest of Phoenix Squadron is being scrambled."
Vairn complied with the order, pushing his engines even harder, taking the huge Novaldex nacelles past their factory-recommended speed limits. A loud groan of protest came from the rear of his starfighter, but he ignored it. His fighter raced after the intruder, but to Vairn's shock, it was racing far ahead of him.
"That's crazy!" he said to himself, "No A-Wing can go that fast!"
But the black fighter was clearly no average A-Wing, and before Vairn could do anything more, the unidentified craft was zipping past Phoenix Nest and it's four escort fighters.
"We couldn't stop it," one of the other pilots said over the open comm net, "Better tell Chopper Base they're about to get some company."
