Week 14: Miscellaneous
66. sun
67. moon
68. stars
69. clouds
70. planet

Sun
The young pilot squinted and shied away from the glaring sunlight as he enjoyed his last day on Coruscant. Twin Suns. That famed squadron had accepted him. Now, with the war against Corellia about to reach its climax, everything rested on the pilots' shoulders. The wind threatened to knock him off the balcony as he soaked in the cityscape one last time.

He was not Twin Twelve yet. He could still stay planetbound for one more day and be just a puny man in a big world. For the moment, the world stood on his shoulders and time stood still.

Moon

It had not been a full day yet, but battles did not wait. The squadron shot out into the darkness around the rings that the Yuuzhan Vong had made from the remnants of Coruscant's moons.

This is it. The young man thought. Every bit of his training had led up to this moment, when he's rise up and see action, unless, of course, he survived this battle. Knowing the average pilot's wartime lifespan, who could tell when he'd die?

"Time to fly." He didn't know if he'd like real battles, but he knew that he lived to fly. He grinned.

Stars

A million points illuminated the young pilot's vision, but none were from the multitude of stars in the galaxy. Instead, starfighters were exploding like supernovas. Then, the red E-Wing behind him erupted in a shower of flames and the young man's blood boiled as if it was at the center of the explosion and he felt a sudden rush of energy. He had to channel every last ounce of it into winning the battle.

He let out a blood-curdling scream before charging after the fighter that murdered his wingmate, the long-time friend who…

"Fall back," ordered Lead over the radio.

Clouds

Fall back. The voice echoed weakly in the young man's head, as if everything was suddenly so… so clouded.

"Get b…back here, you…" He barely made out the static-filled voice as he followed his friend's killer into the dense, gray clouds of Corellia. The squadron leader, a popular alumnus of Coruscant Academy, had repeatedly ordered the young fighter pilot to return to his assigned position in the formation above, but he couldn't, for the only thing he could make out past the clouds was his current battle. He could not describe the pain of watching a part of himself die.

Planet

"Aa-ack!" the blue-clad Galactic Alliance pilot screamed in a combination of pain and frustration as his shoulder violently slammed into a side console in the aftermath of a direct hit from one of those Corellian traitors. "Kriffing son of a Hutt!"

Still, despite the pain, the young man was able to grab the controls with his good hand and fired a pair of proton torpedoes at his target, hoping that his aim was true and that the missile would not touch the planet's surface, for the other pilot had led him down beneath the clouds.

No. I'm going to crash!