The blaring squeals of her wrist-link
woke Tundre up with a start. She had
passed out at the table aboard Pachet Karnel’s Corellian Transport. Lotan Ekwesh roared from the cockpit as
Pachet ran back to Tundre.
“Tundre, we got incoming! Get your Blade
off! We’ve got three minutes before we’re in range.”
Thunder had already pulled on the TIE
Pilot life support system and was grabbing for the helmet. Her wrist-link was nearly overwhelmed with
communiqués from Digger, but she had no time to read them.
“Digger, get the Blade ready to go! As soon
as I’m in the pit, release the Blade from the Transport, got that?!”
<<Understood.>>
Thunder secured the TIE helmet as Pachet
closed the bay’s door and began venting atmosphere.
“Digger, status of the Blade?”
<<Engines: Green to Go. Weapons: Charged at Full. Shields:
Charged at Full.>>
“Roger, Digs. Stand by. I’m exiting the
Transport now. I’ll be in the Blade in
one minute. Remember, don’t wait for me
to get situated in the Blade. Release
it as soon as I’m in—gotta give the guys a good fightin’ chance.”
<<Acknowledged.>>
Thunder reached the Blade and pulled
herself into the cockpit with the help of the Force and her telekinesis. Seconds before the cockpit was fully sealed,
she felt her Blade buck as the Transport detached from it. She was going to have to fight while still
wearing the TIE helmet. The
Heads-Up-Display powered up in front of her as the cockpit sealed.
“Digger, acquire the nearest targets and
paint them accordingly. Let me know
when the Transport has made a safe jump.”
<<As ordered.>>
The HUD fired up with indications of
numerous enemies…sporting Razor fighters no less. The Razor wasn’t the best or the fastest, but it could take a
beating and deliver in the meantime.
Thunder rolled away from the Transport’s exit vector and prepared for a
head-to-head with the first Razor—not the brightest maneuver for a near-sober
Sith, but she had to buy Pachet and Lotan some time.
Digger hooted his disapproval of her
tactics as the distance between the Blade and the Razors melted away. The Razors had never encountered a Blade
before and would not know of its armament.
In fact, no ships outside of Adumar’s sector had duked it out with a
Blade. That gave Thunder an
advantage. This wasn’t a head-to-head
move as much as it was a game of chicken.
The Razors would flinch away, afraid of the confidence displayed by the
Blade’s pilot. They hit the two click
mark and the lock indicators blared while acquiring targets. Digger squealed a dead lock and Thunder
fired away two torps. They were now
about a klick apart and under each other’s guns. Thunder juked down out of the debris of her torps’ victim and lit
up another Razor. Two Razors down,
four more to go.
“Digger, I’m switching on the rear laser
cannons for you to use. Anyone tuck
behind our six, you vape’em! Got it?”
<<Understood.>>
Thunder smiled at the advantages that her
new Blade-32 had over her T-65 X-Wing fighter.
The remaining four Razors had decided to ignore Thunder and make like
starving Wampas for Karnel’s transport.
Thunder shoved as much power into her engines as possible. The Razors engaged the Transport and Thunder
was still a click from them. Karnel and
Lotan began whipping and juking the Transport around in an evasive manner,
which gave Thunder time to wax an unsuspecting Razor. The Razor’s wingmate was obviously not happy with Thunder’s
superb and surgical strike. The Transport
continued to run with two Razors pounding away at its shields. The third Razor banked and tucked itself
behind Thunder’s Blade. Digger blared
warnings, but Thunder ignored them.
“Diggs, you gotta take out our
shadow. I’ve got the two on the
Transport.”
<<Attempting to destroy target.
Suggest discharge of flare.>>
“One flare coming up, Diggs.”
With a flick of her thumb, Thunder
released a flare from the Blade’s tail.
<<Flare hit target. Target shields: down to 80%. Firing laser cannons.>>
Meanwhile, Thunder was concentrating her
fire on one of the Transport’s attackers.
She had its shields down to 30%.
Fox Starfighter had obviously decided to man the Transport’s dorsal gun
turret and was pounding away on the other Razor. Thunder’s Blade rocked from a violent concussion as Digger scored
a kill on the Razor that had been targeting them.
<<Aggressor Target
destroyed.>>
Thunder smiled. Digger seemed to be enjoying his more active role in the
dogfight.
Pachet Karnel’s transport jumped to
hyperspace and vanished; the Blades were left behind for Thunder’s glory. With no Transport to worry about hitting,
Thunder let loose on her targets. She
relaxed into the Force and let it guide her actions. The first Razor target was finished off with her lasers. The second was the recipient of a torp hit
to its six. Her HUD indicated that no
more hostiles were in the immediate area and all friendlies had exited.
“Diggs, did you get rendezvous
coordinates from the Transport before we disengaged from it?”
<<Affirmative. Feeding coordinates to navicomputer
now.>>
Thunder chuckled, “Thanks, Digger. Engaging hyperdrive. Let’s see where our new friends went.” Hyperspace swirled around the cockpit. The HUD indicated that they had one hour and
ten minutes before reversion. Good,
enough time to worm my way out of his TIE suit.
Disoriented by sudden sobriety, Thunder
was aware of Digger’s blaring hoots as the Blade was preparing to revert back
to real space. Stang, must’ve passed
out. I’ll have to break out some Whyren’s Reserve as soon as we rendezvous. She watched as swirling hyperspace melted
into starlines and then become fixed points of light. She glanced at her HUD and sensors to get a quick overview of the
new situation.
“Digger, scan all transports. Paint Pachet’s ship as ‘friendly target
one’.”
<<Compliance. Target One painted and located 2.5 clicks at
two o’clock high, starboard side.>>
“Yeap, I see them. Let’s go chat with’em.”
Thunder zipped over to Pachet’s
transport, which was showing up as the Slugfest. Whether that was a reference to the giving
and receiving of punches in a fight or a reference to a group of spawning
space-slugs, Thunder had no idea but could make a good guess. She juked and jinked around several other
transports, freighters, and smaller personal crafts. The majority of craft were in the process of either docking at a
nearby station or heading down to an asteroid base. Huh, must be pirates or some group not to keen on being
probed. Wonder how Pachet knew of this cute little place.
The comm channel blinked and crackled to
life,
“Blade-32, this is Slugfest. Do
you prefer vacuum or rock harbor?”
Digger tooted his preferences from behind
the cockpit. Thunder began to realize
that Digger might decide he carried more weight after vaping a Razor in the
brawl.
“Slugfest, this is Blade-32. We prefer rock harbor.”
“Affirmative. I already gained us clearance and we have our choice. Escort us to Hangar Facility Ventral Three. Slugfest
out.”
“Roger, roger. Tucking into your six
now.”
Twenty minutes later, the little band of
galactic misfits emerged from their two ships.
Pachet, Lotan, and Fox headed over to the Blade where a technician was
extricating Digger from the droid pit.
Certainly, Thunder had the ability to just levitate the little keg of
bolts herself but would, in the process, alert the whole sector to her
presence. This little rock seemed the
kind of place where information was sold and traded faster than she could have
T.K.ed Digger back into the pit. While
she wasn’t too worried about the gang that was pursuing them, Thunder still
needed to keep a low profile from New Republic and Imperial informants. The Siths had ditched Director Isard and had
viciously tangled with Rogue Squadron.
Undoubtedly, both sides would be gunning for the Siths now.
The little gang settled into a private
booth at the rear of one of the taverns.
Digger continuously scanned the tavern’s patrons for trouble.
Lotan leaned forward and kept his voice
low, “I can’t believe they sent half a squadron after us. Those Razors certainly weren’t piloted by
pirates. They were too
organized…practically screaming military.”
Pachet rubbed his hairy chin and
sighed. “I don’t think those fighters
belonged to The Library Den either.
I think we got jumped by some hired pros…better than the bounty hunter
types. I wonder who hired them and who
exactly they are after.”
Fox pulled down his hood and draped it on
his shoulders, “Me obviously. Whoever
hired the stick jockeys was probably the same freak that put the bounty hunters
on me.”
“No.
I don’t think so,” Thunder spoke after searching her own thoughts. “We don’t even know if those Razors were
truly after any of us. They made no
contact or demands. They just lit up
anything that was moving. There’s a lot
of unrest in most sectors. It could be
just some new faction banging around.”
“Huh, well then, someone’s gonna be
really ticked off when six of their expensive Razors don’t come home.” Pachet was truly amused at the whole notion.
“No shit, Pachet. I stopped by Obroa-Skai before I hit The
Library Den and picked up some information. It is safe to say that Pestage is no longer the head of the
Imperial forces. Most of the Council
members seem to have died or will shortly meet an untimely fate as well. Director Isard, however, seems to be quite
unscathed. I have a feeling she will be our next Galactic leader in the
Imperial realm. The Rebellion is
continuing to strengthen. They have
even established a working government and call it the New Republic.”
Pachet smirked, “How original of the
them.”
Tundre’s wrist-link began to blink away
at her. She glanced down to catch what
Digger wanted,
<<Important information on the
HoloNet being broadcasted. Overheard
from patrons at the bar and the bartending droid.>>
Tundre glanced around. All seemed relatively quiet for a
tavern. She turned back to her table,
“Keep a low profile. I’m gonna try to get Digger to an outlet. Something’s
going on. Meet back at the Hangar in
one standard hour, got it?”
Pachet traded concerned looks with
Lotan. Fox, however, showed more trust
in his new found guardian with a smile, “Think we’ll be flexing some muscle of the
Force-kind?”
“I’d rather not. It’s getting hard to find a place just to
relax as it is.” Tundre headed for the
exit with Digger rolling along in her wake.
A few moments later, Digger was plugged
into an information conduit and navigating through the HoloNet. After about ten minutes, he became overly
excited.
<<Information acquired and
verified.>>
“What information? What’s going on
Diggs?”
<<Rogue Squadron has been disbanded
and the pilots forced into mandatory retirement. Rogue Squadron no longer poses a threat for us.>>
Tundre nearly fell to the floor. She needed to make sure the rest of the
Siths were aware of Rogue Squadron’s demise.
She could hardly believe it for herself. The Rogues were retired and scattered through the galaxy to be
paraded as heroes in hopes of recruiting more systems to this New
Republic.