'Air Force ain't so Bad'
Day 289-22:13:55
Petty officer Xira
Javelin Platoon, Free Ryloth Movement
Chimera Base, Ryloth orbit
I stared at the crudely printed photo of an infant twi'lek and a green skinned man at his late forties. My fingers couldn't help running along the cheeks of the child, as images of my daughter shouting her first cries came to life again. I sure wanted to spend every moment I have with them, but with the Empire and slave traders after every twi'lek girl in the galaxy, it wasn't just a fifty grand a year job to fight against them. It was, in fact, a responsibility to me.
Believe me I had every reason to stay, but if I did, who will be there to protect my family? Mercs? Definitely a no-go. My husband? I trust him, but a man alone can only do so much. So I knew I had to fight for them, for the ones I love back at my home in Rhovari, on my own terms.
"Attention Javelin Platoon, assemble at the hangar immediately. Repeat, Javelin Platoon members, assemble at the hangar immediately!" The loudspeaker overhead derailed my train of thoughts as commander Faylin's voice rang from the cone-shaped device on the ceiling. I stowed away my photograph in my shirt pocket, and followed the rest of the pilots to the hangar to see what she has in store for us.
"This is not a drill!" Her loud and sure voice continued as I sprinted down the corridor, right past Harris and a couple of other twi'leks before I made it to the brightly illuminated hangar a storey below. The jet fighters and the Sparta, along with its TIE interceptors docked between its prongs, were just where they were. Faylin was already in her orange and white pilot outfit, with D4 standing next to the crate she's standing on.
She made the bulk of us gather around her, and once everyone reported in she began briefing us on the op that the Spectre guys took earlier today. I thought it was a simple search and rescue.
"Hear ye! Ten minutes ago, we received a distress call from Dash Rendar, one of our allies taking part in the rescue operation. D4?" She signalled the astromech, and soon a beam of blue emerged from its optics, revealing what appears to be a pilot fighting for his life inside his ship. "...five star destroyers? Damn it! We're taking hits! Cannot..." was all the message could say.
Five? That's one new record on the book, I'll give the bucketheads that.
"This was the only message from them that reached us. As you can see, the original air support is not enough. We'll have to fly into Corellia orbit and initiate our search and rescue, as we're still trying to track the exact origin of their distress call. At the same time, you'll fly in with the dozen of fighters we've got and buy the ground team some time to get off the planet. If you've got questions, ask now." Demanded Faylin.
"Ma'am, I do." Said Geyges, one of the brighter students we've had with us in our air unit. "What if they can't get something that flies?"
"You'll have to trust them. No worries, from what I know, these guys can walk into hell and come back smiling." She replied after stroking her chin for moments.
"Petty officer Xira, you'll be leading the fighter unit in the commander Raptor, as always. The rest will be in the Sparta's guns and on the monitors, those come in first priority. Every other position is expendable. Expect at least 60 mikes of hyperdrive time. Everyone let's mount up! And may the Force be with you!" She finished, and headed to be before I could move myself to the slightly customised Raptor sitting at the side of the hangar.
"Hold on officer. Your droid." She said as she handed the astromech painted in jet black back to me.
"Thanks. Good hunting out there." I replied.
D4 activated its propulsion system in its belly and hovered into the socket just behind my seat. I hopped into the tightly packed seat, and initialised the jet's systems hastily as the rest did the same and headed out first. I stole a glance at the Sparta repainted with stripes of crimson and the jaws of a shark on its twin prongs, and noticed its ramps retracting and its crew on the bridge.
The canopy above my head came down and sealed me off from the air outside, leaving me completely isolated from whatever gas was in the hangar. I carefully pulled the joystick between my legs backwards, and led my fighter out into vacuum space with three more behind me and the Sparta rear guarding our formation.
"Hey 0-2, aren't we developing this project Baphomet? I heard it was specifically designed to handle destroyer fleets like this one." Geyges commented on his way out.
"The good general rejected it because of its complexity. But believe me, when you see that blueprint, you'll never underestimate humans anymore." I answered cheerfully, remembering how incredible the project Harris proposed looked. From what I remember it was a machine with arms and legs, equipped with a repeater missile launcher in addition to its primary railgun.
"I know it's a shame, but cut the chatter. We got a job to do." Faylin reminded as the Sparta made its way out of the hangar. By now we were ready to jump at any moment. All that awaits was an order from Faylin, and we're all set.
Moments had passed when her call finally came down through our comlinks. And when it reached mine I was thrilled to push the hyperdrive lever next to my right palm. Before I knew it, I could no longer see my squadron mates. What replaced was the astonishing sight of twirling blue just outside my cockpit.
And that's that. An hour's wait. You two lovebirds better hang in there.
An hour later...
"All callsigns form up! We're making a run for the fleet below! The Sparta's going to ram the flagship while the rest causes as much mayhem as possible!" Faylin ordered sharply from the bridge of the Arquitens-class cruiser still within hyperspace, while my squadron and I slowly entered the terrestrial planet's atmosphere and towards its biggest city, Coronet.
My HUD quickly scanned the destroyers hovering about the city as soon as my fighter made its way to the jungle surface. The rest of the bulk followed, and soon all of us were hastily locking onto hard points located on the Imperial ships. Mine found itself targeting the destroyers' shield generators resting next to the bridge, and as it locked on my thumb was nervously rubbing the red button on the joystick.
"Javelin 2-1, we're approaching effective range. Requesting permission to fire." I asked impatiently in the cockpit now getting more humid. I could hear the rest of my team already chatting to kill themselves time. Well, what could I expect from them? After all it was I that made them reckless enough to shift their attention so easily in battle.
"Permission granted. Entering AO in 3...2...1..."
"All hands, brace for impact!" That was the last thing I heard from our brave captain before the Sparta emerged from nowhere and steered itself to a collision course with the leading destroyer, taking out its bridge and leaving it out of action. It was about to ram into another wingman star destroyer when it veered away from total destruction, barely missing the destroyer's side and scratching off its paint.
Before any of the captains inside the destroyers could react, Xira pressed down the red switch she has longed, and so did the rest who were anxious to save their comrades stuck on the ground. Their hard work paid off when the sight of a CR90 Corvette emerged from the horizon and the domes on the destroyers went off, allowing us to further set our sights on the hundreds of turrets and anti-aircraft batteries scattered across the ships.
As half of the flight and I did so the other half started locking their missiles and cannons onto the TIE escorts buzzing around and about the fleet, knowing that at this proximity the chance of missing their shots were almost zero. Without a second thought, we fired a second wave, while the Sparta banked sharply to get a clear shot at two of the destroyers hovering off our left flank.
Soon enough the skies were filled with the distinctive roar of the eyeballs and laser rounds of both green and red, along with frantic screams of our gunners' and their pilots'(I could tell by our guys' performance). "Javelin 0-2, breaking away! In pursuit!" I shouted before I did just that and chased after an isolated TIE I came across.
It tried to make a sharp turn behind one of the destroyers' bridge, making it a lot harder to take it down with only my guns. Nonetheless I waited, and waited until it shifted in another direction and got into my line of fire. Yet I missed again, and before I could wait for another shot a rocket from the corvette obliterated what was supposed to be my kill, and sped further up and away from Corellia's surface.
"This is Javelin 0-4, their guns are too powerful! Can't get a shot!" One of the pilots shouted, after Harris shouted in defeat when his prey dodged his attack once again. "Spectre, give me a sitrep, now!" Faylin ordered nervously, after learning that we've already lost the element of surprise and are slowing exposing our weakness of having few men and firepower.
"Objective complete. Package are slightly wounded. One cat Bravo. One cat Charlie. Altitude ten thousand meters from surface." Gobi reported sharply through his comlink, implying us that it's time to follow them and be out of here soon.
"Copy all. 0-2, cover us. We're out of here, before we get stranded like their asses." Faylin commanded as the Sparta altered its trajectory and pointed its nose up, while retrieving the dented and shot up TIE interceptors of ours via its only docking bay. I launched the last rounds of my guided missiles towards whatever Imperial target I could hit, and flew away from the combat zone as more TIEs approached from airbases around the planet to reinforce their comrades.
We ended up losing a TIE to anti-aircraft fire. She had been a slave like some of us, and her early life was no less tragic than some of ours. I found it quite hard not to weep for her, but as the old saying goes, the best funeral for a close outlaw is to win the fight for them, and celebrate the victory afterwards with their souls savouring with you in another realm.