He hadn't used one of these since Junior Academy days, Rex recalled with slight trepidation on seeing the long, slender black and brown speederbike in front of him. He jumped lightly down from the scout's back pouch and walked over to his new ride.
"It's no TIE Interceptor," He shrugged, "But it'll do." The scouts laughed, and asked again if he was sure he could 'handle the darn thing'; he was sure, and off they went.
Calhoun was used to piloting at high speeds, much higher speeds than the land bike could reach, in fact, but the speeder's controls were different than a spaceship's, and also he wasn't exactly used to weaving in and out of heavy foliage with trees easily the size of a pair of upset Troazodons. Ten minutes into the ride, he'd gotten no closer to the base according to his nav. display and only a bunch of scratches and cuts on his helmet-less face from the passing whips of forest branches. The other two bikers slowed to his crawling speed a few moments later and the trio stopped.
"Okay, pilot, we just got an emergency call from our Unit secondary; the new command," The first one told him from his hovering bike, "We're needed back at the base right away, apparently some Rebels have managed to lodge themselves in front of the blast doors and are trying to work their way in."
"They've got an ATST on the way to help them, but none of us can raise the drivers; like they took off their helmets or something. Anyways, we're going to have to speed ahead and try and clear the Rebels out."
"You've got your watch system and the bike's indicators, so you should have no problem getting back to base at your own pace, right?" The scouts were already winding up their engines, "If you're not accounted for by the time this is all mopped up we'll send a party out to this sector of the woods and find you alright." Rex was more embarrassed than upset by the news, which came as no great surprise.
"I'm just sorry to have slowed you boys down," He said, "If there's anything I can take out on my way in, I'll be sure to take a shot at it for your unit."
"Sounds like a plan, flyboy!" The last scout out of sight yelled over his shoulder, "Just ease up on the throttles and keep an eye out for fuzzy bears and Rebels!"
The pilot waited a few minutes to get his bearings, then took off on the speeder once again, picking a course he figured would keep him wide of most of the biggest branches and making his way steadily towards the shield base. Suddenly, a blaster round swung high and in front of his bike, sending him swerving to his right in a frantic evasive maneuver and within a few inches of a giant tree.
"What the …?" Then he saw them; five Rebels taking refuge behind a fallen tree off to his left. He gritted his teeth and swung the throttles to the max, running his speeder directly back towards the small group and letting loose with the bike's heavy laser cannon on the underbelly; these bastards and their friends had killed Jak, and he hadn't finished his revenge up above the moon.
The blaster cannon sent sparks and fires leaping up from the rotted wood of the Rebel's cover, and Rex saw with a smile of content the first of the soldiers to stand fly backwards with a heavy cannon round burning through the green fatigues on his chest.
"Find more cover!" The Rebels cried, scattering as the speeder dove into their midst, the cannon swinging wildly and picking off another fleeing enemy with a shot to the middle of his back which sent him tumbling head over heels to the muddy earth dead. The other Rebels spread out and turned their rifles towards the circling pilot's speeder, finding cover behind large trees or dips in the forest floor. He saw three left, and made for the closest of the troopers; ducking under a large bush Calhoun was sure his bike could handle. His booted feet clamped down on the throttles, sending him rocketing and weaving through the foliage towards the blaster fire coming from the bushes.
"Look out!" A Rebel screamed, but it was too late; the hidden soldier had stood to take aim at the speeder bike and caught the vehicle's pointed front-piece square in the face. It happened so fast, Rex wasn't clear exactly what happened to the soldier's head, but he was sure it wasn't on his shoulders anymore.
Circling the remaining two enemies, the pilot ducked and hugged the bike frame close as he sped towards the tree the blaster fire from the closer Rebel sprayed forth from. Just as he let off with his cannon, however, a stray Rebel round glazed his bloody front-piece, frying the thin metal panes and sending his bike flying erratically off through the forest. Dizzy and terrified and furious that the Rebel's had again gotten the better of him, the pilot pulled back on the throttles as far as the damaged speeder would allow and held his breath for the upcoming tree he could not avoid. He jumped. The deafening explosion of the speeder into the tree probably didn't help him out, the pilot thought grimly as he felt the heat and force of the eruption propel his body off through the forest, stray branches whipping his body as he hit the ground shoulder first, rolled four or five times before his lightly armored back slammed into a tree trunk, stopping him with a painful guffaw. He was still alive, however, and decided he wanted to stay that way. His gloved hand slid to his blaster, pulled it out and checked the status of the weapon quickly; still operational; he pulled himself up and lay against the trunk with a vacant look on his face and his weapon pointed slightly upwards from under his left hand and part of his emergency survival pack, which he had swung over his back for the journey.
"Did you see where he landed?" a voice called out cautiously from somewhere behind him, and the pilot slumped his head on his shoulder in an attempt to appear dead or seriously injured.
"There, what's that?" Another voice called, and the imperial glimpsed the shadow of a human form walking towards him through the woods. "Here he is; looks pretty beat up, or dead."
"Is he moving? Breathing?" The first voice asked, and the pilot heard the crunch of footsteps come closer. He stilled his breaths and waited, tight as a spring ready to move.
"If he is, he soon won't be …" The second voice responded with a chuckle, and Rex made his move; his eyes shooting open and his hands moving with lightening speed from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, the blaster pistol came up and the Rebel found himself a bit too late as the red laser round burned two holes in his forehead just below the rim of his helmet. His body twitched, his head a smoking mess, and then dropped back limp and dead.
"Holy shit!" the second voice cried, but the pilot was already on his feet and with his back to the tree; the other Rebel was probably walking around the huge trunk when he let off his blaster. "He might have been useful, man! You've got to stop just killing people!"
"What?" The Stormpilot couldn't stop himself from asking; The Rebel hadn't seen his partner die; of course! He thought Rex was dead! "Oh, uh," He started again, trying his best to remember what the dead Rebel's voice had sounded like. "Sorry, won't happen again, man." There was a short silence, and the footsteps resumed with the voice.
"So where do you think that guy came from?" The Rebel was asking as the pilot pistol-whipped him across the jaw, sending him unconscious to the ground just as he came around the tree.
"Moron," The Imperial spat, searching the dead man and his unconscious friend, taking one rifle and hiding the other and stuffing some of the Rebel's fatigues and papers he found in the pockets into his survival pouch, trading them for a vitamin bar and a sip of water. He set off again into the jungle, using the survival pack's compass to direct him towards the base's coordinates on the navigation watch's tiny green and black map; he was still about a mile and a half away. He figured, and the blaster fire and general sound of approaching chaos were all around him.
"Whoa!" Calhoun cried in surprise as he came out of the woods at a crouch into a small clearing. Just in front of him, a fully erect and standing ATST stood staring down at him. He put up his hands and motioned to the drivers he couldn't quite see under the shades of the eyes. "I'm on your side, mates!" He waved, but the giant assault vehicle didn't move. "Hello?" he asked tentatively, but still nothing.
It couldn't be empty, he told himself, not standing upright in the middle of the battle around them, but apparently the drivers were either dead or missing. He prayed the drivers hadn't merely missed him and would start moving, and began to climb the jutting metal pieces along the long leg. Halfway up, the pilot started running out of handholds as the structure of the vehicle thickened and the smooth side armor began, but he managed to lift his boot up onto the side cannon and hoisted his breathless and sweaty body up onto the small top platform. Yes! He thought, the hatch was open, and he peered carefully down inside, praying he wouldn't surprise an Imperial driver crew, or worse. Empty. The controls looked fairly easy to operate, he thought, sitting in the seat with the hatch shut and locked a moment later, and he smiled evilly as he clanked unsteadily off towards the treeline; his new height giving him a clear view of the distant satellite of the Shield Base.
"Now let's see what damage I can do from up here …" He laughed mischievously.