One standard hour after the victory at Colonial Moons, Traee personally led an attack on High General Husk's headquarters.
"Sled Seven, this is Sled One, don't be a coward, catch up with Eight." Shed Seven was actually doing fine, but Traee had to break comm silence to draw out enemy TIEs. Reconnaissance by fire, of sorts.
And just as the scouting party said, Tie fighters popped over the luscious tree tops and attempted to fire, and were instantly cut down by Sled Squadron Tie Raptors.
"Good shooting, Sled," Traee told them proudly, for that type of abrupt victory rarely happened. "Let's rise to medium altitude and watch for chip missile sites." The squadron complied and met Traee in mid atmosphere. The leader kept his weapons toggle set on his secondaries. Something might might need a quick slap-shot from his missiles.
TIE Raptors were new Siener Fleet Systems craft that had small wings replacing the conventional upright solar ports of the famous TIE-fighter. They also carried powerful missiles that Traee depended on for success of the mission. However, he was not actually in one. Instead, he had perhaps the only pre-Endor TIE-Defender in the galaxy. With shields, two ion cannon and turbo-lasers, eight proton torpedoes, and the speed and agility of a TIE-fighter, it would be quite a fighter even without mentioning the hyperdrive and tractor-beam.
I'm lucky, and I'm good. I get to play with Husk's armed forces.
A sentry shuttle reported a missile battery ahead, and tasked Sled Squadron's lead flight to take it out.
"I'm on my way, I'll arrive in 40 seconds," he replied, and did arrive on time to find a missile closing in.
His eyes darted across his holo-display, see the projected outline of a speeder craft. He skillfully softened and titled his shields at the impact site and deflected the missile at a road behind him, even as he tractored the ground ahead. Packets of trees may just keep him safe if he dives low enough, he thought. As expected, a pack of other large speeders fired shots along the flight paths of Traee's other flight mates.
Hovering on the ground, he tilted his nose toward a speeder, and slaved a torpedo to his flight controls.
This is stupid, but what else can I do? He guided torpedo one into the perfect proximity to a pocket of vehicles, detonated it, leaving only the distant site he had started with.
"Hold back, guys, I'll get that one, too!" With that said, he landed and left his fighter. "I'll go on foot and take that thing out with this," he said silently, taking a rocket launcher form his cargo storage. Should be another minute before I take that one out.
The military advisor, Vain Hudson, belly-rolled out of the asteroid belt with some excuse about checking his land gear. "It always works," he told himself with pleasure. "All I have to do is say, 'the inertial force will force my gear in,'" he self-explained, "and I get to do what I want." This is the situation on Colonial Moons: The "High General" plans to defect from the Empire and join the New Republic, along with all his holdings, and to avoid retaliation, he has asked for a defense force and other peace-keeping personnel. Understanding, the New Republic sent Hudson and a supply of TIE-fighters fitted with shields as the teeth in the operation. However, any ship of a certain tonnage was forbidden from being used in the operation, since command decided that General Husk's defense were capable of withstanding a brute force attack from the weakened Empire, and also, the Republic couldn't spread its force thin. As a result, Moff Blister and Traee Motal both considered disciplining General Husk's splinter of the once Galactic Empire. At least, that's the story Hudson heard.
"Husky, this is the military adviser, dispatch my A-wing somewhere," Vail requested. "Roger, Military Adviser, assigning new designation, Shark-Saber, adjust your heading to 1-6-0, and join Shark-Saber Squadron as Leader," an operator with a "female" computer voice told him.
Is that a real person?
A new Republic test pilot turned one man Foreign Legion zipped toward his Imperial Squadron mates.
Who would have guessed I'd be helping these guys?
"Mission complete," I'm returning to my flight craft. Patrol for irregulars, and identify any targets," Traee told his squadron in an even, yet exhausted tone. Not that I'm tire, I grew up on Corida, and it doesn't het any more rugged than that.
He walked soaked in sweat, but making excellent time in returning to his TIE-defender. I'm back, I wonder if they have forgotten my roots?
He applied power to his defender once he strapped back in, then contacted his men once again.
"Hey, Five, contact Hawk-Bat Eye (the sentry craft). I really think all of the major pains are gone around here," he told one of the Sleds in a light commanding tone. "Yessir, adjust to Hawk-Bat comm signal," he instructed out of necessity.
Everyone complied. "Sled Leader, your squadron are free to engage all hostiles, even Husk Bunker has a green light," the voice said suggestively.
"You heard it, Sleds, let's fly medium level toward the bunker and link flight pairs into a sensor phalanx. Leaders, fighter mode, wing, ground attack. Remain like this until targets of opportunity appear, and keep in constant communication," he instructed them.
Traee felt slight apprehension. Why are we being sent after it so soon? Have ground commandos already disabled the turbo-laser turrets? No, something's happened in the asteroid belt. The New Republic have placed something there. It couldn't be a double cross, it's just way too soon for that.
"Arm your missiles, guys, and commence operation Broad Lance. Eliminate the targets at Husk Bunker." Groans fell in the wake of the order. Board Lance called for demanding extreme attack-angle flying and precise shooting. Midair collisions were likely if someone wasn't flying by his instruments. Since Rebel pilots flew slower craft and still succeeded against Imperial Garrisons, Traee believed that by using improved tactics, he could compensate for eleven of his men not having shields.
The holo-screen had a flickering dot on it abruptly, and a warning sound rang. "We're in range. I'm breaking command into flight elements; I'll lead Sleds one through four," he told everyone through his comm. In the distance, beams flared in, the occurrence behind accentuated by the pilots' sensors, revealing them too the pilots in every TIE.
The beams provided target locks for Traee, who slaved his missiles to his laser detector. The first missile seemed to make a 90 degree angle into the ground below his TIE and find a hidden turret. Two others nailed sites just ahead. Traee rolled onto his port side as the explosive force hit his ITE. The solar port array provide lift for him to place distance between himself and the gun turrets. The others were also climbing to escape ground fire.
At that moment, a turbo-laser nailed his bow shields and deflected out into space.
Below.
Traee quickly switched from lasers to missiles and fired his two remaining onces at targets that couldn't wait. "That's five! An ace in one mission, but this snub fighter is crazy!" Traee quickly regretted saying that.
"Now that you have air supremacy, I am transporting you to sick-bay, Master Traee. We are returning to Disparager right this instant," the TIE-defender told him as it overrode the manual controls.
That's just great, have a heart attack and the fighter give you another one!