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| Finding A Path - Trish | ||||||||||||
| Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the movie "Star Wars." | ||||||||||||
| Han and I watched the lights of Anakin's convoy disappear into the endless night of space. "I'll miss him," I commented. "We'll miss him, if we live through the next few days," Han corrected grimly. I giggled, "Han, when did you become a pessimist. Of course we'll live, we're the best!" "It's time we got to our ships," Han remarked, his tone still dark. I smiled happily, "Yes, tonight we take back our planet. We don't want to be late for that!" Han sighed and turned back to the landing field. Lately he seemed much older than I. Only eight months ago the Rebellion and combat flying had been the very essence of excitement to both of us. But now Han seemed tense, and very aware that we were playing a dangerous game. He seemed to have forgotten that we were the best at this game, forgotten that we were untouchable. I swung myself lightly into my IRD's cockpit, "Fair skies, Han!" I yelled. "Luck go with you Trish," He replied. "All pilots to the skies," That was the order we had been waiting for. Seventy-five ships rose swiftly then streaked through the darkened skies toward the bright lights of the Colonist capital city. When the first of our bombs struck the city the Colonists reacted calmly and naturally. They sent a red alert message to the nearest High Altitude Fighter base. Of course the base couldn't respond, all the fighters had been sabotaged, except for those which were already involved in the attack. And those ships were the ones doing the attacking. I was surprised when I noticed Han's Z-95 circling impatiently around a heavily armored, low built compound. "What are you doing Han?" I asked flying toward him. "When the Colonists figure out who's attacking them they'll use the implants against us," Han replied. "But we found out where the computer that controls the implants is kept. It's in that building." "How are you going to destroy it? Your lasers won't penetrate the building's armor," I remarked. "We also know that a number of Colonist soldiers are stationed there. When no one responds to the distress call they sent, the soldiers will come out of that building, and I'll go in," Han explained. Now I understood Han's grim mood. What he was going to try was crazy, he'd be flying straight into very concentrated fire and he wouldn't have room to maneuver. Worst of all it had to be done. While all the Rebels had been trained to operate while the implants were being used it wasn't easy. The Rebellion could be won or lost depending on the implants. The heavy doors slid open. Han's Headhunter dove toward them, throttle wide open, wings drawn back against the sides of his ship. Immediately the Colonist forces opened fire. Han reacted just as Anakin had taught him to. They had spent several hours rigging the Z-95 for continuous fire. In a normal battle that option was worse than useless, it let your opposition know your exact range, so it wasn't even made available. But for what Han was doing it was essential. It let him clear a path through that cramped hall, but he would still have to risk fire from the various branching hallways that would surely line his path. Suddenly the implant burst into operation, then shut off. There were several dull crunches from the compound. Seconds later Han's ship exploded from the entrance, followed by a barrage of laser fire. As Han pulled up an unlucky shot struck his wing. The Headhunter spun uncontrollably. I waited for several seconds but Han made no visible attempt to bring the ship under control or to eject. "Han!" I yelled sending my IRD racing after him. Han didn't reply. I swallowed softly, at best Han's com unit had been destroyed, but it was far more likely that he was unconscious or dead. The wild spiraling of his ship could easily have been caused by the weight of his body leaning against the control stick. Slowly tears trickled down my cheeks, there wasn't anything I could do to help. With a sob I turned my ship back to the battle. The next few weeks all blurred together in my mind. I would fly till my fuel ran low. Then while I waited for the refueling process to be completed I grabbed a quick bite to eat. Every fifth stop I would drag myself to a nearby couch for a nap. At first I had trouble sleeping during the day, but after a short while day and night ceased to have much meaning for me. Slowly the colonists were herded together and forced out of our cities. They made their final stand in Kaydose Pass, the only entrance to Jotorus Range. Jotorus Range is approximately 1000 acres located on the western most peninsula of the continent. Surrounded on three sides by a shallow, reef infested sea, and cut off from the rest of the continent by a virtually impassable mountain range, Jotorus Range was a world unto itself. For nearly two thousand years it had been off limits to technology, and no human had ventured within it since the ban on technology. It was the only place on the planet where animals could roam their natural habitat. Most humans felt very uncomfortable with the idea of entering a world where nature still ruled. We had become used to ruling our environment with an iron hand. I had heard of droughts, floods, and other natural disasters, but had never experienced anything more threatening than one unscheduled rain storm five years ago. That was when a computer virus got loose in the weather service's computer complex. Kaydose Pass pass was narrow and tall mountains on either side of it curved protectively over it, making attacks from the air useless. Until the Colonists were pushed on to the plains beyond Kaydose, fighter pilots, like myself, were no longer needed. Therefore, once it became obvious that the battle for Kaydose Pass was going to be a long one, all pilots were called back to protect the cities from the still present raiders. The new Rebel government eventually called back most of our forces. The official attitude was that as long as the Colonists were trapped in Kaydose we didn't need to worry about them. ============================================================== I hated going back to the base, going back to the routine Han and I had established. In the excitement of the war it was possible to avoid thinking about Han, but now I found myself waiting at our old meeting places, fully expecting Han to show up. Then when I remembered why he wasn't coming and why he never would I always ended up crying. Eric Jaff had disappeared, but Calla and Jak where still there. They fought for real now, yet I was still grateful that Eric's replacement, Jarrel, was a member of the Rebellion. The other new pilot, Mora, was incapable of replacing Han, even as a pilot, let alone as a friend. Her flying lacked all traces of grace and style. It was obvious she was surviving through luck. Mora's idea of tactics was to get as close to the enemy ship as possible, then blast them. Even Jarrel couldn't really replace Han. We flew as a team, but I could never depend on him to supply the inspiration that had characterized everything Han did. Jarrel had learned standard maneuvers, and he used them with incredible precision, but he was appallingly predictable. His reply to any tactic was a classical one, that meant if he ever fought someone who knew the classical responses Jarrel wouldn't last long enough to wonder what went wrong. But within his limits Jarrel was a good pilot. ============================================================== The door to my quarters was enthusiastically slammed shut behind the tall gangly girl who had just entered. "How are ya doing!" Mora greeted me, pushing her long unruly black hair back from her face. I glared at her silently. Mora searched through the litter of hair sprays, shampoos, conditioners, brushes, barrettes, and other devices for controlling her dark hair. "We've been roommates for two months Trish," Mora continued, dragging a brush and a heavy clip out of the mess covering her dresser. "Wouldn't it be reasonable for us to talk to one another." I flipped over on my stomach and selected a book from the shelf over my bed. Mora combed her hair in silence for a few minutes, then located a bottle of detangler and commenced to thoroughly drench her hair and the furniture nearest her. "I don't know what I could have done to you," Mora remarked. "You haven't spoken to me since before we met." I turned a page in my book, it was a Western, I'd read it before but that didn't matter. After a few more minutes Mora's hair was free of rat's nests and she began fighting to gather it at the nape of her neck. "Trish you wouldn't mind helping me with this would you?" she asked, I pretended not to hear her. "Now listen to me Trish," She said severely. I kept looking fixedly at my book. Suddenly Mora lunged across her bed and snatched the book from my hands. "That's better. Trish, I know you're upset about something, but I don't think it's me. So do you think it's fair for you to act this way toward me because of something I don't even know about?" I got up and started to leave the room, Mora grabbed me by the shoulders, "You're behaving like a little kid Trish!" She yelled. "Now I'm going to put with it for one more week, then you're at least going to tell me what's wrong!" She released me, I think Mora was hoping I would stay and tell her about Han. Instead I when to find Jarrel, practicing would occupy my mind. ============================================================== Jarrel's ship, a Z-95, swung into my sight just like I knew it would. "Jarrel," I yelled, "Can't you ever do something original." "I'm doing the right thing," he replied angrily. "Haven't you read your manual, that maneuver always protects you from a rolling dive!" "Unless I know you're going to Split-S, then I just pull out of the dive early, and blow you to smitterines!" "But the manual says that if you try a rolling dive you shouldn't pull out of it until you reach the Troposphere," Jarrel objected. "You weren't even in the lower Stratosphere." I groaned, "Jarrel, forget about the manual, try thinking for a change. You follow the manual so well that I know exactly what you're going to do before you know it." "The manual tells you the best response for any attack," Jarrel replied. "Alright, if the manual's so great, why do I always win!" I yelled. "Because you don't do what the manual says you will," Jarrel shouted angrily. "So why don't you stop doing what the manual says you should do, as well, maybe then I won't have to work so hard to protect you in a real battle." "If you think I'm liability in a battle maybe we should stop flying as a team!" Jarrel snapped heading back to the landing field. "Wait a second Jarrel," I yelled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that you would be a much better pilot if you didn't follow the manual so closely. The manual is for beginners and you're not a beginner any more, you need to develop your own strategies now." "I happen to think that my flying is just about perfect now," Jarrel remarked coolly. "Fine," I yelled, "Get yourself killed, see if I care!" Now what was I suppose to do? I needed a partner, and Jarrel was the best pilot in the wing, other than myself. I couldn't ask Calla or Jak, since they already flew in a team. And Jarrel had been a great partner. I mean I always knew what he was going to do, so I could always make a plan that would work without consulting him. Why'd I have to go and insult him. It wasn't his fault he wasn't as good as Han. No one except Anakin was that good. And Anakin was lightyears away. ============================================================== The raider struck the next day. Without a partner I wasn't doing nearly as well as I could have been. I was chasing one ship when a second dropped in behind me. It was a trick Han and I had used a hundred times, but I'd never had to worry about it getting used against me before. It only worked if you could find a lone ship. I couldn't deal with both ships at the same time, because if I tried to get my laser sights on the one in front of me, the one behind me would have his sights on me. Suddenly Mora's ship swooped down on the second ship. When I saw it burst into flames, I took care of the one in front of me. "Thanks," I said hesitantly. "None necessary," Mora replied. "We ought to work together more often." "There's another one," I exclaimed. Mora's ship twisted to the right with a sudden painful motion, I winced in sympathy for her ship. Amateurish as the maneuver was, it got the job done. After the battle, Mora and I returned to our quarters. I wasn't quite sure what to do. After talking to her during the battle it seemed strange to sit in silence now. "I'm sorry about how I've been acting toward you," I began. "Your not nearly as bad a pilot as I thought you were." "That's not much of a compliment," Mora remarked. "But it's a big improvement from not speaking to me at all." "I'll try to do better in the future," I replied. "In the meantime would you mind if we practiced flying together?" "Maybe, sometime, when I haven't just finished fighting a battle." Mora answered. ============================================================== Almost overnight a second political party appeared to contest every decision the Rebel Government made. They called themselves the CRMC (Committee of Right Minded Corellians). There were rumors that the CRMC had had people who stood in their way killed. Many Rebels took this rumor quite seriously. I did as well. The Rebels reacted by setting up stricter security measures and screening programs that insured only people loyal to the Rebel Government would be given important jobs. I help to set up one such program in our Starfleet. I hated the CRMC, for now the government couldn't risk the complete openness that had characterized its earlier dealings. Now both the Rebels and CRMC's were rushing to perfect wiretaps, bugs, and other secret devices for recording what the other said and did. Secret codes were devised for transmitting sensitive material. I hated what was happening, but it was all the CRMC fault. Once the government had rid itself of them everything would be alright again. I was delighted when a law was passed that would allow the Rebels to deal more harshly with CRMC spies. "What are you thinking about," Mora asked. "Suddenly you look so serious." "I was thinking of the CRMC's," I sighed. "Why did they have to come and ruin everything?!" "If the Rebel government is so delicate that its first competitor destroys it, maybe it's better off destroyed," Mora replied. "Oh don't worry! CRMC isn't going to destroy the Rebel Government, but their forcing it to change, to become harder," I answered her, my voice becoming rough and angry. "Relax Trish, I'm not attacking your precious Rebel government. I was just making an impartial observation. And you're wrong, CRMC is destroying the Rebel Government. I know they'll never actually conquer the planet, but they are forcing the Rebel Government to fight them on CRMC's level. After awhile the only difference between the two will be the name." "Mora, that's not true! The Rebel Government will root out CRMC and destroy it, then everything will be perfect!" I insisted. "I thought getting rid of the Colonists was all it was going to take to make Corellus a paradise," Mora commented sadly. "Let's fly," I ordered harshly. Mora shrugged, "We might as well." In silence we walked to our ships. Mora had been given a Silver Sparrow, an extremely streamlined, agile ship. The Rebel government had bought it from a smuggling operation. Mora's flying had improved rapidly since I had started helping her. Now she flew with a certain smoothness. It was nothing compared to the effortless grace that Han's flying had always shown, but Mora no longer looked like an amateur. In the distance I could see Jarrel practicing. His flying was as text book perfect as it was predictable. Already Mora could have beaten him two times out of three. Mora had always had spontaneity and imagination, and I had taught her enough to destroy any element of surprise Jarrel might have had. "Ready to mix it up?" I asked. "Completely," Mora replied. I reached around my seat to activate the practicing equipment that had been installed when I returned from the war at Kaydose Pass. The equipment tied into my ship's sensors and weapons. It weakened my lasers until they were little more than a tracer beam. When that tracer beam hit anther ship with the same equipment that ship's damage sensors would react as if the tracer had been a real laser. Mora and I had been flying side by side, now we split. When we were about 100 meters apart the match started. Mora, playing on her ships greater mobility, avoided my laser fire, but due to my speed she couldn't manage to score herself. The deadlock lasted for several minutes, then Mora tried a hard snap roll, over our open com system I heard the scream of her ship's over-stressed hull. "That sounded serious," I commented, "Maybe we should take a break to check out your ship." "Fine with me," Mora remarked, "I don't plan to die while practicing for battle." A quick inspection of the Silver Sparrow's wings revealed dozens of cracks along the joint to the ship's body. "I don't understand what went wrong!" Mora exclaimed, hands on her hips glaring in disgust at her ship. "I've seen that maneuver on the holovision set a million times, I've even seen you do it, without nearly tearing you ship apart." "There are a lot of variables involved in what sort of tricks a person can safely use," I reminded her. "The ones you forgot were number one: Altitude, you might be able to get away with that sharp of an about face at a height of three or four kilometers, but you tried it at fifty meters above sea level. The atmosphere is real thick dow here in the cellar. With a delicate ship like yours or mine you don't want to try anything violent. Which brings us to variable two: Different ships can handle different amounts of stress. You fly a Silver Sparrow, a delicate, graceful ship, not a Headhunter. A Headhunter may be legendary for the amount of stress it can handle, but your ship gave that up for greater speed. You've got to remember that." "I'll try teacher," Mora remarked smiling shamefacedly. "You'd better do more than try," I informed her sharply. "In a battle forgetting could kill you." And I never wanted to watch a friend die again. ============================================================== Walking through town made a person notice how much of a problem the CRMC really was, and how much pressure it was putting on the Rebel Government. The cost of the continuing war with the Colonist, (who were still holding out in Kaydose Pass), and dealing with the CRMC had nearly broke the Rebel Government. They had been forced to create new taxes, and raise existing ones to cover the cost. But supporters of CRMC refused to pay these taxes, saying that they "wouldn't finance a government that was destroying them." This forced the Rebels to get the money from the CRMC's supporters' property. Unfortunately the proceedures involved in the repossession and sale of property took time and cost money. Then after the property was sold the Rebel Government couldn't get any more money out of it. And with fewer people to pay taxes, those that did were forced to pay more money. No one likes paying money, and when the Rebel Government began making them pay a lot of money, more and more people became receptive to the CRMC's honeyed lies. It was becoming a disastrous spiral. With so many businesses closed and taxes so high there simply weren't enough jobs or money to go around. The people who didn't have jobs started harassing those who did. By now it was impossible to find a place in town where the shouting of rioters couldn't be heard. Soon the Rebel Government was showing signs of becoming paranoid, such as riot control which consisted of shooting the rioters. But even these extreme measures didn't stop people from rioting, they had nothing better to do. The rioters demanded jobs, lower taxes, sometimes even an end to the Rebel Government. (Lots of the last kind of rioters were killed.) Most people didn't see that everything would be much better if we all gave the Rebel Government the support it needed. The Rebel Government was at war with the people it was trying to help, because they wanted improvements NOW and wouldn't give the Rebel Government a chance to find its feet. I had vowed to support the Rebel Government, no matter what. The trouble it was having adjusting to it's new circumstances only reinforced that plegde Mora on the other hand, had never had much faith in any government, and when we were ordered to help control the rioters her belief in the Rebel Government dropped to a new all time low. Firing on the rioters made Mora feel sick and miserable. When we returned from the riots she would go to our room and cry, because of the deaths she had caused, because the planet was falling apart while she watched, and most often because she felt trapped and helpless. Mora told me she had felt like this when the Colonists had been in control, and she hadn't cracked up like this. She was really confused by how severely she was reacting. I thought I understood why though. While the Colonists where in control Mora had never really believed that things would improve, but like a lot of other people she had expected everything to be wonderful when the Rebel Government took control. When it didn't happen as easily as she expected, Mora got even more depressed than she had been before there was any hope for improvement. I had felt the same way when Han died. At first I had felt awful because I knew he wouldn't make it. Then his ship had flown out of the compound and everything seemed wonderful. When he lost control of the Headhunter I felt so much worse than I had before that there wasn't even a word to describe it. I guess hopes that don't come true are a lot worse than no hope at all. That's why the Rebel Government had to work out. It had to succeed. I had placed all of my hopes in it, and I didn't think I could stand to loose that hope. So no matter how bad things looked, I had to keep on believing that the Rebel Government would succeed in the end. | ||||||||||||
