Crrrsssh! The sound of a searing laser bolt piercing the hull of his ship
certainly put Baaka on edge. He wasn't ready to lose his most prized
possession to a squad of Imperial TIE Fighters, not now. He had to focus;
his craft was carrying a cargo vital to the survival of his cause. He
veered to face his co-pilot, whom he commanded in their native tongue,
Bothan.
"Redirect all shield recharge to the aft quadrants!"
"Yes, Captain."
Despite his dire concerns, fear was never visible in the old captain's face. Even in his elderly age he maintained an air of composed grace, which showed in his twinkling brown eyes. He was short compared to the veteran human pilots of the day, but in truth he surpassed most of them by years of combat experience. This part of him was visible in his haggard, gray fur.
"Captain! I-"
Baaka's co-pilot was cut short by a barrage of laser fire striking the rear of the Bothan cruiser. The craft shook fiercely. Captain Mal'lar seemed completely unshaken, as always.
"You were saying something?" The furry humanoid gave a crooked smile to his rookie companion, a testament to his seasoned flight experience.
Pursuing the Bothan craft was a squadron of three TIE Fighters; regular patrol units who had been dispatched to hunt down and destroy the seemingly harmless ship without question. Unbeknownst to the Imperial pilots, the Bothans were carrying the plans to the Empire's second Death Star battle station - plans, which, if given to the Rebel Alliance, would prove disastrous for the Emperor's vile agenda.
The fighters fired incessantly at their target, striking its metallic surface with brilliant flashes of green light. The two pilots maneuvered desperately to evade the incoming blasts, and retaliated with cannons mounted on the cruiser's hull. One of the fighters transformed abruptly into a blinding fireball.
"One down, two to go." the captain muttered, hopeful.
The cruiser's guns fired unrelentingly at the fighters, lasers whizzing by each in a chaotic manner. Finally, a barrage from one of the starship's rear cannons struck the wing of one of the remaining TIEs, igniting its metal structure. Losing control, the pilot hurtled into his wingman. Kkrrraooosh!
Baaka let out a distinct, guttural cheer to celebrate the apparent victory. His moment of relief was short-lived, however, when his cheer was interrupted by the words of his co-pilot.
"Captain, I'm picking up a formation of TIE Interceptors! They're heading straight for us!"
The captain's heart sank. Dodging Fighters was one thing, but the Empire's new TIEs were even more maneuverable, and were equipped with the most advanced firepower and technology in small craft to date. There's no time to reach the Hyper Point. he thought.
As the Interceptors came within range, Baaka was startled when he realized that his ship wasn't taking any more fire. The enemy craft seemed to approach from a decent firing distance, but merely decelerated toward their target.
"They're not firing! What are they waiting for?"
Looking at his control panel with a startled expression, the co-pilot replied, "Captain.I've lost control of the ship!"
A look of painful realization appeared on Baaka's gaunt face. "No.they're using a tractor beam!"
Captain Mal'lar's ship came to a halt in space as its engines were countered by the lead Interceptor's beam system. The larger, more powerful craft suddenly became helpless within the technology of the small fighter. It was like being grabbed around the torso by a mad Wookiee, Baaka thought.
The Bothan co-pilot noticed a flashing light on his control panel. "We're receiving a transmission," he said, turning on the comlink system.
A broken message came across the comlink from the voice of a male TIE pilot. "Unidentified hostile craft V2-71, you will be escorted to the nearest command station shortly. Your flight system and weapons are off- line."
The captain was struck with a sudden fear. With the information they were carrying, there was no chance that the Imperials would let him and his crew go alive. His mind raced with thoughts - thoughts of his comrades who had fallen at the hands of ruthless Stormtroopers during the mission. Would he suffer the same fate? Looking over to his co-pilot, he could sense the trust that his remaining crew placed in him. They awaited a leader's decision, but all he could do in his dazed condition was state the obvious. "They're jamming us."
"Sir," responded the co-pilot, "what should we do? If we're taken back, they'll kill us just like they did the others!"
Baaka may have needed reassurance, but he now realized that it was his job to deliver that. But his thoughts raced once again - from fear, to death, to his friends.his family. He suddenly thought about all the people who depended upon him; the fate of the galaxy depended upon him, on this very mission. He had to push aside his fearful thoughts of the future. The future is difficult to see. he assured himself. Fear.leads to suffering, he remembered.
"What's in the lower cargo bay?" he asked his co-pilot, evidently with a plan in mind.
"Explosive charges.for the Alliance."
"Open up the backdoor," Baaka said with newfound confidence. He was sure that his plan would work.
His co-pilot searched anxiously for the cargo bay release on the ship's control panel. With a gulp, he pressed the button. The door to the lower cargo bay flung open, sending a horde of explosives into the range of the lead Interceptor's tractor beam. The pilot, busy making communications with his command station, had no time to evade the stream of magnetized bombs hurling towards his cockpit. "What the-" the Interceptor pilot looked through his viewport just in time to see a charge fly through the glass.
The awesome explosion sent the remaining two fighters of the Interceptor squad diving in a defensive direction. Clear of the flaming space debris, the two pilots regained their lock on the Bothan cruiser and entered attack formation.
"Quick! Get to the Hyper Point!" Baaka commanded.
The cruiser returned to full throttle as the trailing fighters began blasting away. The Bothan pilots struggled to dodge the streams of searing light while returning fire at the highly maneuverable Interceptors.
Noting the damage caused to the cruiser's shields, the co-pilot was overcome with a sense of certain doom. "Captain, I don't think we can-"
"Keep flying!"
The TIEs rolled in and out of the ship's cannon fire, firing incessantly at its hull. Their strikes blasted away the last trace of shield energy on the cruiser's rear half. Baaka and his co-pilot, noticing their dire situation, exchanged glances reflective of their feelings. This is it. the captain thought.
Suddenly, something miraculous happened. The TIEs stopped firing. They turned upwards, returned to formation, and flew in the opposite direction. They've stopped firing, Baaka said to himself, with a desperate inner plea for relief.
"Captain.they're returning to their command station!"
"That was a little too easy," Baaka said, genuinely wondering why the fighters had ceased the pursuit. Had they traveled beyond their command station's zone of control? It was uncharacteristic of Imperial fighters to simply retreat from an enemy craft. Or had they received orders not to destroy them? The captain was too caught up in this sudden rush of uneasy thoughts to realize that his co-pilot was nervously waiting for the order to make the jump to light speed.
"Captain, we've arrived at the Hyper Point. Shall I proceed?"
"Oh, yes. Activate the Hyperdrive."
"Redirect all shield recharge to the aft quadrants!"
"Yes, Captain."
Despite his dire concerns, fear was never visible in the old captain's face. Even in his elderly age he maintained an air of composed grace, which showed in his twinkling brown eyes. He was short compared to the veteran human pilots of the day, but in truth he surpassed most of them by years of combat experience. This part of him was visible in his haggard, gray fur.
"Captain! I-"
Baaka's co-pilot was cut short by a barrage of laser fire striking the rear of the Bothan cruiser. The craft shook fiercely. Captain Mal'lar seemed completely unshaken, as always.
"You were saying something?" The furry humanoid gave a crooked smile to his rookie companion, a testament to his seasoned flight experience.
Pursuing the Bothan craft was a squadron of three TIE Fighters; regular patrol units who had been dispatched to hunt down and destroy the seemingly harmless ship without question. Unbeknownst to the Imperial pilots, the Bothans were carrying the plans to the Empire's second Death Star battle station - plans, which, if given to the Rebel Alliance, would prove disastrous for the Emperor's vile agenda.
The fighters fired incessantly at their target, striking its metallic surface with brilliant flashes of green light. The two pilots maneuvered desperately to evade the incoming blasts, and retaliated with cannons mounted on the cruiser's hull. One of the fighters transformed abruptly into a blinding fireball.
"One down, two to go." the captain muttered, hopeful.
The cruiser's guns fired unrelentingly at the fighters, lasers whizzing by each in a chaotic manner. Finally, a barrage from one of the starship's rear cannons struck the wing of one of the remaining TIEs, igniting its metal structure. Losing control, the pilot hurtled into his wingman. Kkrrraooosh!
Baaka let out a distinct, guttural cheer to celebrate the apparent victory. His moment of relief was short-lived, however, when his cheer was interrupted by the words of his co-pilot.
"Captain, I'm picking up a formation of TIE Interceptors! They're heading straight for us!"
The captain's heart sank. Dodging Fighters was one thing, but the Empire's new TIEs were even more maneuverable, and were equipped with the most advanced firepower and technology in small craft to date. There's no time to reach the Hyper Point. he thought.
As the Interceptors came within range, Baaka was startled when he realized that his ship wasn't taking any more fire. The enemy craft seemed to approach from a decent firing distance, but merely decelerated toward their target.
"They're not firing! What are they waiting for?"
Looking at his control panel with a startled expression, the co-pilot replied, "Captain.I've lost control of the ship!"
A look of painful realization appeared on Baaka's gaunt face. "No.they're using a tractor beam!"
Captain Mal'lar's ship came to a halt in space as its engines were countered by the lead Interceptor's beam system. The larger, more powerful craft suddenly became helpless within the technology of the small fighter. It was like being grabbed around the torso by a mad Wookiee, Baaka thought.
The Bothan co-pilot noticed a flashing light on his control panel. "We're receiving a transmission," he said, turning on the comlink system.
A broken message came across the comlink from the voice of a male TIE pilot. "Unidentified hostile craft V2-71, you will be escorted to the nearest command station shortly. Your flight system and weapons are off- line."
The captain was struck with a sudden fear. With the information they were carrying, there was no chance that the Imperials would let him and his crew go alive. His mind raced with thoughts - thoughts of his comrades who had fallen at the hands of ruthless Stormtroopers during the mission. Would he suffer the same fate? Looking over to his co-pilot, he could sense the trust that his remaining crew placed in him. They awaited a leader's decision, but all he could do in his dazed condition was state the obvious. "They're jamming us."
"Sir," responded the co-pilot, "what should we do? If we're taken back, they'll kill us just like they did the others!"
Baaka may have needed reassurance, but he now realized that it was his job to deliver that. But his thoughts raced once again - from fear, to death, to his friends.his family. He suddenly thought about all the people who depended upon him; the fate of the galaxy depended upon him, on this very mission. He had to push aside his fearful thoughts of the future. The future is difficult to see. he assured himself. Fear.leads to suffering, he remembered.
"What's in the lower cargo bay?" he asked his co-pilot, evidently with a plan in mind.
"Explosive charges.for the Alliance."
"Open up the backdoor," Baaka said with newfound confidence. He was sure that his plan would work.
His co-pilot searched anxiously for the cargo bay release on the ship's control panel. With a gulp, he pressed the button. The door to the lower cargo bay flung open, sending a horde of explosives into the range of the lead Interceptor's tractor beam. The pilot, busy making communications with his command station, had no time to evade the stream of magnetized bombs hurling towards his cockpit. "What the-" the Interceptor pilot looked through his viewport just in time to see a charge fly through the glass.
The awesome explosion sent the remaining two fighters of the Interceptor squad diving in a defensive direction. Clear of the flaming space debris, the two pilots regained their lock on the Bothan cruiser and entered attack formation.
"Quick! Get to the Hyper Point!" Baaka commanded.
The cruiser returned to full throttle as the trailing fighters began blasting away. The Bothan pilots struggled to dodge the streams of searing light while returning fire at the highly maneuverable Interceptors.
Noting the damage caused to the cruiser's shields, the co-pilot was overcome with a sense of certain doom. "Captain, I don't think we can-"
"Keep flying!"
The TIEs rolled in and out of the ship's cannon fire, firing incessantly at its hull. Their strikes blasted away the last trace of shield energy on the cruiser's rear half. Baaka and his co-pilot, noticing their dire situation, exchanged glances reflective of their feelings. This is it. the captain thought.
Suddenly, something miraculous happened. The TIEs stopped firing. They turned upwards, returned to formation, and flew in the opposite direction. They've stopped firing, Baaka said to himself, with a desperate inner plea for relief.
"Captain.they're returning to their command station!"
"That was a little too easy," Baaka said, genuinely wondering why the fighters had ceased the pursuit. Had they traveled beyond their command station's zone of control? It was uncharacteristic of Imperial fighters to simply retreat from an enemy craft. Or had they received orders not to destroy them? The captain was too caught up in this sudden rush of uneasy thoughts to realize that his co-pilot was nervously waiting for the order to make the jump to light speed.
"Captain, we've arrived at the Hyper Point. Shall I proceed?"
"Oh, yes. Activate the Hyperdrive."