Salas was just outside of Hutt space, somewhere near the Abyss of Sacred Flames, when Megiddo picked up the pirates on her rear scopes.
Salas grinned wickedly, they had no idea who they were messing with. He waited patiently as they closed the distance, no doubt thinking that his utility shuttle would be an easy target. The scum had been hiding inside of a small cluster of rocky asteroids. It was a trick that he had seen before.
His forward viewport was dominated by the purple light of a nebula, which from this angle looked ragged and misshapen. The area's starfield was bright and colorful. In one direction he saw azure crosses surrounded by crimson auras, in another a band of white dots, and in another a mix of green and blue flics. The storms of a distant gas giant were still visible, despite the fact that at this range the planet itself was smaller than a fist.
They were in laser range now, but they didn't fire. This meant that they were disciplined; they would benefit from waiting till they were closer, so they held their fire. Salas checked his targeting system, examining the hostile craft. They were a group of six Z-95 Headhunters. No two of them looked quite the same, each having been heavily modified and subjected to years of extensive Jerry rigging.
Megiddo's cockpit was as much a living space as the place from were the ship was piloted. The factory set up was functional and minimalist. Salas had made a few additions, some of them purely utilitarian, others would hardly be considered professional. But it was his space, his home, he would do what he wanted with it.
He reached up, flipping open a hidden panel, revealing a bank of buttons and switches. He flipped a bright red switch, a set of hidden doors located under the ship's nose opened, the pair of laser cannons that they concealed powered up.
He turned, doing a quick one-eighty, something that a shuttle wasn't supposed to be able to do. Megiddo could do a lot of things that a simple civilian shuttle wasn't supposed to be able to do. One of them was be armed. A targeting reticle had appeared in the center of his front view port. He placed it on one of them and squeezed the trigger on his joystick. The cannons fired, pulses of red light raced at the Z-95.
The ship's shields failed; the next hit punched through the cockpit's canopy. Salas set his guns to chain fire and switched targets. The barrage of laser fire quickly overwhelmed the Headhunter's shields, before making short work of the hull.
The enemy squadron broke up, scattering in different directions. Salas picked what experience told him was their leader. In his panic the pilot had made the grave mistake of presenting Salas with the side profile of his fighter. Salas didn't hesitate for an instant, his training took over as he lined up a shot, automatically leading the target to account for its forward movement. The flaming remains of the craft screamed through the void. Salas picked the closest target and maneuvered toward it.
He set his cannons to linked fire. This wasn't his first time engaging pirates, and it sure as hell wasn't his first time destroying them. He tried to stay focused on the task at hand, as he got on the tail of the raider and started taking potshots. His first assignment as an imperial Tie Fighter pilot had been uneventful. He had spent six long months stationed on an out of the way orbital platform, only exiting the station's hanger to conduct close range sensor inspections on cargo ships and passenger vessels. He spent most of his off time in the simulator, lusting after a combat mission.
But it was his next tour of duty that he had the fondest memories of. He was astonished when they handed him a shiny new Tie Interceptor and a position in Hellcat Squadron, assigned to Task Force Annihilator, a small fleet that was organized to hunt down and destroy pirates.
They must have been impressed with his simulator scores.
His unit was a fast moving, hard hitting group. Assassin-class corvettes, Skipray Blastboats, and Assault Transports for conducting boarding operations. All of them organized around a Suspiria-class Star Destroyer, which was a faster and more heavily armed and armored successor to the Interdictor Cruiser.
The eager young pilot had eliminated Z-95s, Clone Wars era Y-wings, and a few of the craft that were colloquially known as Uglies. The dogfights tended to be one sided, with a few exceptions here and there.
The Headhunter's engines exploded. The pilot ejected. Scratch another pirate.
A streak of red light passed by his left viewport. The two remaining Z-95s were on his tail, too bad they hadn't been just a bit faster; they could have saved their friend. Salas set his shields to double rear and vectored toward the group of asteroids.
Megiddo weaved and jinked around, throwing off the aim of her pursuers. But they did manage to score a few grazing hits. A regular ship of that kind would be in trouble, but Salas had sacrificed a good chunk of the vessel's cargo space for a better shield system and a higher quality reactor to feed power to it.
Megiddo entered the field, weaving her way through the rocks. The pirates followed, taking the occasional shot, many of which clipped the asteroids. Megiddo swooped under one of the larger rocks and shot out of the other side. The Z-95s copied his move, exiting the field via the same route as him. Salas was a step ahead of them, he knew exactly where they would be. He had performed a quick Immelmann turn, now they were in his gunsights.
The first shot went wide, but he quickly corrected, the target didn't last long. The other Headhunter scored his own hits, lowering Megiddo's shields to uncomfortable levels. Salas fired a few more shots, what was left of the last Z-95's fuselage screamed past his viewport, burning and covered in arcs of electricity.
A new ship appeared on his sensors. He made a note of the general area, as this was where he would find the hollowed-out asteroid that contained their hidden base. Salas targeted the vessel, it was a Delta-class Escort Shuttle. He knew the craft well. It was a bigger and tougher version of the standard Imperial shuttle, its heavy cannons and rear facing turret were a major threat. It set its engines to full throttle and pointed its nose at Megiddo.
Salas knew that he was in trouble. His ship's shields were at dangerous levels and that Escort Shuttle had him outgunned, and it could take a hell of a beating. But it was okay, he was used to not having any shields at all. Salas only had one chance, that would be to outmaneuver the pirate. He headed back into the asteroids.
The former Tie pilot vectored around the hostile craft, hoping to attack the ship from an angle where it couldn't return fire. The enemy pilot saw what he was going to do, always turning to either present his mighty cannons or the nasty looking gun turret. They ended up moving parallel to each other. Neither of them could get a lock with their front mounted weapons, and the deadly turret couldn't quite line up a shot.
Salas checked the scanner, seeing an opportunity. He darted toward the pirate ship, it reflexively moved away, directly into the path of a large rock. The enemy pilot spotted the asteroid, diving steeply to avoid it. He was a bit too late; the impact drained his shields and sheered the massive dorsal fin completely off.
Salas swooped in for the kill, lighting up the rear mounted turret before the gunner could recover from the shock of the collision. The viewport shattered, the systems that powered the guns exploded, the weapon's enormous barrels came lose and were left behind.
The Escort Shuttle tried to evade, but Salas was glued to his tail. He used his targeting computer to match the enemy's speed, then he started blasting the engines to pieces. The target's hull integrity failed, the flaming wreckage struck an asteroid and shattered into a thousand pieces.
Salas took a minute to catch his breath, let his shields recharge a bit. After the break he maneuvered toward the rock that he had marked as being the pirates' base. He set his power system to focus on recharging his guns. Then he started blasting the asteroid. Chunks of smoldering debris and globs of lava were blasted off of its rocky surface.
A hidden turbolaser turret popped out of a crater. Salas was ready for it, he blasted it to pieces before it had finished swiveling around to face him.
A message came in on a general frequency, "Please stop! We will pay you!" The voice sounded desperate.
"I am a slaver," Salas lied, "How many prisoners do you have?"
"We don't have any prisoners!" the voice said, sounding truly pathetic.
Salas kept blasting, "Oh good. I don't have to worry about harming any innocents," he said flatly. His attacks must have hit something important, because an explosion threw boulders up and out into space. One of the massive rocks struck another asteroid, creating a cloud of dust that rolled across its surface.
Another message came in, "Please! We don't have any evacuation craft!"
Salas smirked, "Well, this just goes to show you that safety regulations exist for a reason."
Secondary explosions were ravaging the base. The doors that concealed the hanger bay were blasted off of their rails and propelled out into space. The bay itself was covered in flames, fuel stores and munitions were exploding.
He left the field, setting course for the trio of stars known as the Alia group, the last known position of his bounty.