[Lambda Class T-4a Alliance Shuttle Home Bound]
"Lieutenant Stone, estimated time to reversion please?"
"Another forty-five minutes Captain, we should be at the Liberty
at 1400 hours." The tired copilot reclined back in his seat, and
closed his eyes for a second. "Why are we always tortured with these
runs to and from the Outer Rim?"
"Tortured?" Captain DeWitt shifted his eyes from the blue wormhole
the shuttle was sliding through to Stone. "I happen to like these
long runs, Lieutenant. I find it a lot safer then hauling cargo
in enemy territory."
Stone leaned forward and swiveled towards Dewitt, snickering. He
was dissatisfied with his current position in the Alliance, and
everyone who had worked with him knew it. His sour disposition towards
his superiors had hindered any chance of him being transferred to
an infiltration fighter squadron that he had dreamed of since his
childhood. Stone's attitude had hurt his chances eight months ago
when Starfighter Command felt he was too immature to handle the responsibilities
as a pilot and thus it was decided that his services would be used
to aid more experienced veteran transport pilots. "I haven't seen
any Imperial activity since I was recruited to the Alliance," he
pointed his finger to the passenger hold, "...and I don't consider
shuttling around one passenger 'cargo'. What are we nothing but cab
drivers, serving the Alliance's most respected VIP nobodies?"
Stone's voice began to sound intolerable to DeWitt's ears, insulting
him a bit. "Lieutenant Stone, who are you to say that our passenger
is a nobody? That passenger, or should I say, pilot," DeWitt stood
up and towered over his copilot, looking down on him, "has seen
more enemy action then you will probably ever see in your entire
career. I've reviewed the paper work that was given to me on him
and was quite impressed." DeWitt's short temper had been sparked
and there was no stopping his rave in defense of the young rebel.
"He has survived more strike missions then I have seen in years
from a pilot, and I think he deserves this current detail he's been
assigned." His large hands grabbed Stone's uniform and DeWitt lifted
him to his feet. Stone stared down at his boots as his superior
officer glared at him from an inch away, the vein in his forehead
throbbing. "I would rather ferry around one experienced veteran
then transport twenty new rookies that will most likely not see
the day after their first run-in with hostile crafts."
"I think I can understand where you're coming from, sir." The young
Lieutenant's voice was cracking under the pressure of DeWitt, his
answer sounding insincere.
"You think?!" He released his grip on Stone. "I don't think you
understand at all Lieutenant. You have a severe attitude problem
son. You know that? And I have gotten quite sick of listening to
your whining for the last five months about how you deserve this
"I'm sorry Captain, but I..."
"But nothing Lieutenant! You have potential, but you need to stop
letting your mega ego take control of your emotions. It's ruining
"So I have been told, sir."
"Stone," DeWitt scratched the stubble on his chin, "I want you
to go back there and get acquainted with our passenger. He may be
a good influence on you. It's been almost 3 hours since I checked
on him anyway, and I would suspect he is getting bored of listening
to REBL 95."
"I don't think that would be a good idea, sir." Stone watched as
DeWitt's face grimaced even more. "He seemed...um...a little odd,
when we picked him up... quiet. I don't think he is a big conversationalist,
"Who are you to pass judgment on someone you don't know?" DeWitt
turned his body from Stone, trying to recover from his fit. "You
are going to talk with him and maybe you'll learn something, like
respect. Understand me Lieutenant?"
Stone let out a sigh of disapproval. "Yes sir."
"Good." DeWitt grabbed his datapad from his left shirt pocket
and handed it to Stone. "This was the info given to me by our superiors
on our friend. It doesn't give much information, but it might give
you some idea what kind of person he is, and not what you
Stone punched in the access code given to him by Captain DeWitt,
bringing up a file.
Accessing: Please Wait....
1st Lieutenant Nick "Jasted" Finelli
Service: 3.2 standard years.
Statis: Reassignment (Classified)
Origin: Mantooine - Atrivis Outer Rim
- Dark brown hair
- Brown eyes
- 1.80 meters
- 75 kilos
Accessing Alliance Assignments....
Assigned to Gray Squadron as Gray 5(Tool), Advanced Intercept and
- Evac of Arconis Sector: Success. (Access Code needed for additional
- SAR for Commo Officer 2nd Lieutenant John "Scarface" Poole: Success.
(Additional information unavailable)
- Arconis Strike: Success, Gray/Blue Squadrons retake control of
Sector. (Access Code needed for additional information.)
Assigned to Research and Development Program - SAW Project: (Classified)
- SYW Project: (Classified)
Closing Alliance Assignments....
Additional information unavailable....
Stone scratched the back of his neck as he tried to remember rumors
months ago about an Imperial invasion of an Outer Rim Sector. Could
this have been that same invasion? "Lots of holes in his file, Captain."
DeWitt had calmed down a bit, and was becoming more at ease. "Yes,
I was only given the information needed so we didn't pick up someone
else by accident." He grinned. "I'm sorry for letting my anger get
to me Stone, you know how I get sometimes."
Stone nodded. "I understand sir, I've seen you lose your temper
more then once."
"If you still feel against talking with Lieutenant Finelli, I will
not hold it against you."
"As much as I was, Captain," he handed the datapad back to DeWitt,
"I am some what interested in what his story is." He turned towards
the cockpit exit. "I'll be back soon, hopefully being a little wiser,
[Lambda Class T-4a Alliance Shuttle Home Bound Passenger
The lighting had been dimmed for the pleasure of the sole passenger
who was starring lifelessly at the shuttle deck. One of his duffel
bags lay between his legs as he sat there with his elbows braced
on his knees and his hands cupped over his face. The whispering
of music could be heard over the PA, but no one was really listening
to it. Lieutenant Stone stood in the corridor that entered the seating
area, watching Nick from a distance without being noticed. They
were both fighting for the same cause, but for an unknown reason
Stone was afraid to confront and talk with Finelli. It may of been
his attire that Stone felt uncomfortable with; dressed all in black
from head to toe, a leather jacket that came down to his thighs.
Stone could make out the outline of a blaster pistol stowed away
under Finelli's left armpit. He breathed in deeply and stepped forward
from out of the corridor and made his presence known. "Lieutenant
The young pilot looked up from his meditation. "Yes," Finelli responded
with his typical uninterested voice when confronted by someone he
Stone gave a quick salute and exhaled. "2nd Lieutenant Jonathan
Stone, I help navigate the Home Bound.
"Considering that there are only three aboard this ship, and I
have already met the Captain, you being the copilot was my only
guess." He smiled at Stone and readjusted himself in his seat. "What
brings you back here with the luggage?"
"I figured you could use some company." Stone looked around and
studied the vast rows of seats that were vacant. "It gets lonely
when you are the only passenger."
"I've learned to live with being alone, Stone." Finelli glanced
to his right and out the view port. "Been alone for most of my life,
didn't really start interacting with anyone until joining the Alliance."
"Sorry to hear that Lieutenant."
"Don't have to be so formal Stone. You can call me by my call sign
like most do."
Finelli looked back at Stone, his face confused.
"That is your call sign, isn't it?"
Thinking for a second, Finelli then recalled why Stone had called
him Jasted. "Yep, that will do fine."
Stone had quickly noticed Finelli's expression and took a shot
to start some conversation. "Isn't that what most of your squadron
mates call you?"
"New squad mates." He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through
his hair. "Jasted is a new name I picked, over my old one."
"May I ask what it used to be?"
"I wasn't proud of that old name, and would rather not say."
"Understandable, Jasted. You don't mind me calling you that, do
you?" Stone stepped closer then sat down opposite Finelli.
"It will take some time getting used to, but no, I don't mind."
"If you weren't proud of that old name, why did you choose it?"
It was hard for Stone to drop something when his curiosity had been
"It stuck with me from a previous job I had before enlisting; it
was kind of a downer now that I think about it."
"Previous job huh? What may have that been, if you don't mind me
"I was a copilot on a freighter, much like yourself."
Stone smiled, very pleased to hear those words leave Finelli's
"Got the job along with a good friend of mine right after we decided
to," he paused for a second, "-well, decided to change our career
"Your friend join the Alliance like you did?"
"Jason?" Finelli chuckled to himself. "He wasn't interested in
the war unfortunately."
"It's not of interest to everyone," Stone quickly responded. "He
still working on the freighter?"
"Aren't we full of questions today, Lieutenant Stone?"
"I'm sorry if I'm intruding."
"No apologies needed, I haven't talked to someone who wasn't a
friend like this since the induction of new rookies to the Gray
Berets." The lights flickered from a power flux. Finelli's upper
face became cover by an unknown shadow, the whites in his eyes disappearing
completely from site. "The last time I heard of Jason, and the rest
of the crew of the War Hawk, was about six months ago while
I was stationed on the Wave Runner II..."
[(6 months prior) Corellian Gunship War Hawk -- Outer Rim,
Kirdo III Outskirts]
"There it is, scan the planet and find a nice place to settle down
Ridget," Captain Ralt ordered to his first mate, a pale looking
Twi'lek, who was quickly filling his boss' orders out. John Ralt
grabbed the ships com and began relaying commands to the three Z-95s
escorting his freighter. "Wested, take your team and secure the
rim of the planet. Anything enters the system I want them neutralized."
The Gunship shook violently as another one of it's engines began
to give way.
"We're losing engine three, Captain!"
"Shut it down now before it blows and takes out the rest!"
Jason Wested watched from his Z-95 as the ship veered towards the
planet Kirdo while struggling to hold together. "Ralt, the Hawk
looks pretty beat up from out here. I don't think she is going to
hold when entering Kirdo's atmosphere."
"She'll hold together boy, just make sure those Jabberwocks don't
jump us while we are making repairs." Ralt flashed back for a second,
thinking of how it may have been a mistake when he and his crew
had "borrowed" some weapons from the space pirates known as the
Jabberwocks. They were pure scum, preying on the weak and showing
no mercy to anyone who stood in their way. They allied themselves
with no one, and had become a thorn in the sides of Imperials and
Rebels alike by striking convoys going through the Outer Rim colonies.
Ralt's plan began when the Jabberwocks hired his company to smuggle
weapons to the Core world faction of their ring. They paid Ralt
in advance, which they later found out to be a move they would regret.
Instead of delivering the goods, the War Hawk deviated from
it's course and tried to make a run for friendly territory. Unfortunately
the J-wocks were able to stalk down the Hawk before they
were able to escape, and unleashed their anger in a swarm of R-41
and Y-wing fighters. The gunship held off the onslaught and was
able to jump into hyperspace and loose it's aggressors, but was
heavily damaged in the process. The hyper drive motivator had shorted
in the jump, bringing the War Hawk to its current position.
The gunship rumbled in displeasure once more as it dove into the
red planet of Kirdo III. The Hawk disappeared from Wested's
vision, since he had begun concentrating on his current assignment.
"Repellor 2 and 3, you know what our jobs are?"
"Jason, what kind of question is that?" The voice of a young woman
came over the comm. "Don't you remember? We were in the lounge together
when we got the distress signal from Ralt."
Wested smiled, "How could I forget. What a rude interruption that
was, huh Josie?" Wested was very found of Josie, and thought of
her as more than a companion. After leaving his home world of Mantooine
with Finelli, he figured he would never be really happy again until
he crossed paths with her in his current job. She was there for
him when his best friend left to join the galactic war, which he
though was a waste of valuable skill and time. He also learned from
her, unlike others he knew, that he had feeling deep down inside
his seemingly careless exterior. His mind refocused quickly. "You
know what you're supposed to be doing, Weezer?"
"To make sure the Hawk doesn't get nuked while it's being
repaired. Relatively simple, wouldn't you say?" Weezer was Ralt's
nephew, a sarcastic rat if ever there was. He would never take anything
seriously unless his life was endangered. His true flying skills
were hidden behind his immaturity.
"We are out of a job if the Hawk goes up in flame- I don't
think it would look good on a resume." Jason could hear a laugh
from Weezer over the comm.
John Ralt's voice interrupted his nephew's cackle. ".... Wested...we've
brought the Hawk down safely on a huge dune." There was a
moment of silence. "Unfortunately it's in the middle of a nasty
sandstorm and visibility is nil."
"Good landing spot, Ralt."
"I don't pay you to critique me, Wested! Just do your job and we
won't have to worry about time."
"You got it." Jason knew that if it wasn't for Ralt expanding his
business and having a need for a fighter escort, he would most likely
be stuck on the War Hawk at that very second, fixing her
up while sand blew into his face.
[Corellian Gunship War Hawk -- Kirdo III]
Six Gamorreans gathered in front of Ridget, snorting and pushing
each other, trying to gain a little more space for their massive
bodies. Ralt tapped his first mate on the shoulder, "I'll handle
them, and you prep the R5's." Ridget nodded and made his way towards
a gaggle of droids. "Listen up!" Ralt yelled to get the Gamorreans'
attention. "Something is out there in that sand storm. I don't know
what but the Hawk is picking them up on her sensors. They
are not huge life forms but there are about 15 different signals
in all directions around us." His brown eyes slowly panned across
each Gamorrean. "For precautions against whatever is out there,
I'm leaving you with three E-webs, and I want them mounted on the
upper, outer hull. Do not fire unless Ridget gives the order."
The R5 units had finished downloading from the gunships' computers
and began to file into the turbolift to begin work on the hull.
Ralt pointed the six Gamorreans towards the E-webs racked on the
wall, then turned his attention towards his radioman. "What is it,
Marshall?" The Gamorreans waddled their way to the turbo lift, grabbing
the huge blasters and tripods.
"Wested's on the comm. He asked for you." Marshall slid his chair
over as Ralt responded to Repellor 1 on an outdated communications
"Wested, what's going on?"
"Not sure yet, Ralt, something jumped into the system about 30
klicks out, but disappeared from my scopes. I was going to send
Weezer to check out the north side of the planet, but Josie wanted
the job." Jason tried to make sure that Josie was never put in danger
but her wild and free adventurous ways were hard to control.
Josie jumped in. "You don't think I can handle any trouble that
comes my way, Jas?"
Her sweet voice triggered off another smile from Jason. "I just
want you to be careful. That's all."
"Could it have been a glitch in your scopes?" Ralt tried regaining
Wested's attention to the current situation.
"Not likely. The other Repels picked it up also." Wested felt his
stomach twist. "I don't feel comfortable about this one Ralt. We
should have never gotten involved with the J-wocks."
"Don't get soft on me now Jason, I need you alert and ready to
"I'm alert, but you know as I know, he won't stop looking
for us until we are all dead and they have what's theirs." All of
the pirates admired the mighty leader of the Jabberwocks, Knightmare.
They would kill for him and die for him. He rarely made mistakes,
but when he did, he made sure to fix them, one way or another.
"Once we are able to jump back to base, we will lay low. The weapons
we brought in could bring great wealth to the company and we can
all take a long rest."
"What good is wealth when you aren't around to use it?"
Weezer entered the conversation briefly. "Can we get a raise if
we make it out of this alive?"
"Why don't I send you packing back home to your mother when we
get back?" Ralt grinned evilly at the thought of sending his only
nephew back to his sister.
"Don't do me any favors, Uncle John."
"Weezer. You..." Ralt was interrupted by a blast from one of the
E-webs. "We might have problems here as well. Wested, keep me updated."
"Marshall, page me immediately if any of the Repellors com in;
I'm having a look outside." He walked away as Marshall nodded his
head in agreement. Then, Ralt grabbed an oxygen mask before entering
the turbo lift and he wrapped it around his head. The platform hissed
upwards with Ralt looking up while he was levitated. Light flashed
into his face as the blast shield spiraled open, allowing him access
to the Hawk's hull. The lift stopped, and Ralt was immediately
hit by the sandstorm. He squinted his eyes and cupped his right
hand over them to redirect the blowing wind. He walked towards Ridget,
who was standing close to a pair of Gamorreans and their E-web.
"Out there in the storm - you can just make them out, Captain!"
Ralt peered through the storm. "I don't see anything!"
"I can see them. They are slowly moving this way...very slowly.
We fired off a round in front of a few of them and they backed up
a bit." One of the Gamorreans snorted in pleasure as Ridget informed
Ralt of the situations.
"How many are there?"
"They are all around, loosely scattered. I'm not sure what they
"Anything gets to close to the Hawk, you roast it." Ralt
looked at the R5's working on the engines. "How much more time do
we have before we are able to get off this rock?"
"Motivator will be operational in 20 minutes, however it will take
some time to get engines three, four, and six able. They will need
to be replaced when we return home."
"Let's hope we have 20 minutes; the Repellors might have some trouble...."
[Z-95 Headhunter "Repellor 2"]
Josie's scanners showed nothing except the blips of her two wingmen's
fightercraft. "North side looks clear guys. Going to make another
sweep across and then I'm heading back."
"Copy that, lady."
"Don't call me lady. You know I hate that, Jason Adam Wested."
She began to loop her Z-95 towards the direction she had just come
from when her attention was grabbed by a large group of dim stars
that appeared to be moving. "That's odd..."
"Never mind, it's nothing. I'm just not...." The fighter's missile
warning screamed causing Josie's heart to skip a beat. "Something
just got a lock on me!"
"Josie, dump laser and shield energy to engines and get back here!"
Wested throttled his fighter towards Repellor 2's position. "Ralt!
Get a move on down there. We got company!"
Marshall shot up from his seat as the com array came alive. He
instinctively paged Captain Ralt who was still in the storm.
Repellor 2 juked back and forth trying to break the constant pulse
that echoed in her ears. Josie glanced back at the stars she had
looked at moments ago. They had grown in size, and had now taken
the shape of seven distinct fighters. "I see them, they are right
"Decoy beam.... hold on Josie. We are ten clicks from you. Weezer
- get ready to engage."
"Way ahead of you." Weezer tightened his grip on the flight stick
and began gritting his teeth.
"I can't shake this lock!" The alarm went to a solid yell as a
warhead was launched from one of the R-41s.
"Move Josie!" Wested watched as the missile closed on her fighter.
She pulled back on the flight stick, trying to out maneuver the
incoming projectile but was caught in the aft. The weak shields
of the Z-95 gave way immediately. A flash of light gleamed for a
second in Josie's eyes as fear prevented her from saying good-bye
to Jason. Then her world went black.
Repellor 2 shattered in pieces; no screams could be heard from
its comm. "NO!!!!! Not her!" Wested looked at his scanners for any
sign of life ejecting from the wreck. He found none. "Ralt you fool!
They took her!" Now the incoming fighters locked onto Repellor 1
trying to give him the same fate.
A recognizable voice came over the comm. Its anger directed was
at Ralt, who had just rushed back to Marshall's side. "Where are
you, you snake in the grass?"
"Dammit! Knightmare, why did you have to kill her?" Marshall had
informed Ralt that Repellor 2 had been splashed.
"You know exactly why, you back stabbing worm. And after we scratch
off these two sandfleas, we are going to finish you next."
"You'll never get your goods back if you destroy my ship."
"I can live with that Ralt. Prepare to die." Knightmare switched
to a private channel to give orders to his men. "Bogie, Oddball,
follow me. We are going to search that planet for Ralt's ship and
disintegrate it. The rest of you, kill those two pests."
"As you wish KM." Bogie was Knightmare's second in command and
one of the deadliest pilots in the galaxy. He usually led the Jabberwocks
in space combat when Knightmare was taking care of other business.
"Wested? You OK over there man?" Weezer watched 3 fighters break
off from the main force and towards Kirdo. He got no response from
Jason wiped a tear from his cheek as he tried to concentrate on
the incoming enemies. Two missiles were launched towards his Headhunter,
but he did not deviate from his forward motion. He waited until
they were in his laser's range, and he squeezed off a few shots,
destroying the warheads. Weezer danced his fighter behind Repellor
1, putting Wested at point, who had also intercepted a pair of missles
heading toward Repellor 3. The two Z-95s sped through R-41s formation,
but the Jabberwock pilots quickly redirected in the opposite direction
to dogfight. "Uncle John, you got three incoming fighters. I suggest
you get going!" Weezer knew they were in trouble, and with Wested
out of it mentally, he would need to take charge.
"We are way ahead of you kid. Hold your own for now." The R5 units
returned to the inside of the Hawk, not having enough time
to repair all the injured parts. "Ridget, can the Hawk jump?"
"Yes... but for how long, I do not know." The War Hawk sprung
to life as her crew fired her engines.
"Anything in this sector that we can safely jump to?"
"Checking now Captain." The Hawk's nav computers began crunching.
Wested had lost his mind; his emotions had taken over any thoughts
of rational thinking. He had been emptying shield energy from his
ELS to gain enough speed to out maneuver his targets. His fighter's
lasers flared as he weaved behind his first chosen target, whose
decoy beam had unreplenished. The Jabberwock could not out run the
Z-95 on his six, and his fighter was lanced by the crimson bolts.
The shields gave way and the hull collapsed, breaking to pieces.
"One for Wested!" Weezer blurted out as he dodged his fighter to
the left, avoiding enemy fire behind him.
Foam covered Jason's mouth as he looped his fighter around, once
again out racing a J-Wock that had closed on his tail. He looked
to his right as he saw Weezer being pursued by a pair of Star Chasers.
He rolled the Headhunter to the right to cover his wing. His fighter
quickly caught up to the pursuers, his cannon accuracy was near
perfect as he damaged one of the R-41s, who had pulled off his target.
Weezer's shield's sizzled as enemy bolts collided against his rear.
"It's getting a little hot over here." His fighter's shields weakened
to 50% as a flash of light reflected against his glass canopy. Wested
had killed the other fighter following him. "I don't say this much
Wested, but thanks." Silence still filled the comm, as the odds
had now evened up.
"Captain! You won't believe this."
"This better be good news."
"For once, it is! A short jump through Atrivis and we can..."
Ralt finished his first mate's sentence. "...Be bailed out of trouble
by the Wave Runner. I wouldn't want that ship jumper Finelli
to have the pleasure of saving our hides."
"What other choice do we have? If anyone sneezes, the Hawk
might fall apart."
"Aye, we will never make it home." Ralt let out a sigh. "Set a
course for the Strike Cruiser." He eyed Marshall. "Try to get through
to her crew and explain our situation."
The War Hawk roared off it's designated landing area, causing
a giant whirlwind of red sand around it, just as a triad of fighters
cut through the clouds above. "Three incoming fighters, Captain,
moving in fast."
"I want all working gun turrets manned! Marshall, see if you can
get the Repellor's to cover us."
Repellor 1 and 3 had quickly downed the last two fighters. Weezer
could only wonder what could possible be going through the head
of Jason. He, as well as the others on the Hawk, never would
have thought the day to come when Wested would not have been capable
of being there for Josie.
"Repellor 1...Repellor 1 we need some cover! Three incoming Chasers
and we only have a trio of working gun batteries to hold them off."
"Hawk, this is Repellor 3...we are on our way."
Wested had already dived his fighter into the planet ahead of Weezer.
The Z-95 began to rumble as it careened through the atmosphere.
The gun ship was picked up on his sensors, along with the three
R-41s. His fighter's nav computer was given a quick download from
the Hawk; the hyper jump coordinates to where the Wave
Runner II was stationed. "Sorry old friend," he whispered to
himself. "Another time, another life we will meet." The gunship
was now in his sights. The gun turrets were hard at work, trying
to hit the ace pilots flying the Chasers, who were still in formation
and preparing one lethal run. Wested's Z-95 soared by the Hawk
and towards the three unsuspecting Jabberwocks.
Oddball noticed the Headhunter closing in. "KM, what is that lunatic
Bogie switched targets. "He's mine." Before he could fire up his
lasers, Repellor 1 thundered through the formation, causing them
to break. The War Hawkwas given some time to run as it left
the planet of Kirdo III.
Weezer's fighter went by the Hawk, and prepared its entrance
into Kirdo to help his wing. "I'm almost there Jason!"
"No," Wested's voiced boomed over the comm. "Jump out with the
Hawk. I'll hold them myself."
"Are you insane?"
"Turn your fighter around and jump out with the Hawk, I
will not ask you again."
"Weezer, follow us out." Ralt did not want to see his nephew fight
against the cream of the crop of the Jabberwocks. On the outside
he was a cold man to his only nephew, but on the inside he really
did care for him.
"...Alright.... Sir." Weezer agreed to the almost pleading request
made by his uncle as he turned his Z-95 around and followed the
"Jason... " Ralt paused for a moment. "Thank you for all you have
done for me in the past years.... and I am sorry for your loss.
She is everyone's loss. Good luck my friend." He bowed his head
in grief. He had grown attached to Jason over the past five years
and considered him as the son he had never had.
Wested's weakened voice returned Ralt's message. "Good-bye Captain....
May the force be with you... always." With that Repellor 1 disappeared
from the scanners of the War Hawk.
Ridget stared lifelessly at the Hawk's count down to the
jump. "Three...two...one'mark." The gunship leapt into hyperspace,
quickly followed by the lone Repellor. The crew of the ship was
in silence; their companions they had known for years were gone
[R-41 Star Chaser - Exiting Kirdo III]
"Oddball, were you able to get a trace on the jump?"
"I sure did boss, I'll send you the coordinates now."
Bogie looked at the plotted course. "Two minute jump, we should
be able to catch them. I wonder what they are up to?"
"You can ask them right before they become space debris." KM cracked
his fists and smiled. "After you, Bogie."
The trio of R-41's followed the trail of the two ships that had
just left the system.
[Modified Strike Cruiser Wave Runner II: Atrivis Sector,
"That's right Gray 4, get ready to engage possible hostile craft
that may be following Corellian gunship War Hawk."
"Wave Runner Command, is it smart bringing hostile targets,"
Andrew "Darius" Bartha snickered through the radio as he said targets,
"this close to the Strike?"
"We've been informed that there aren't more then three of them.
Nothing more then pirates, they will most likely run off."
"You hear that boys?" Darius looked to his right and left in his
A-wing starfighter. A fighter screen of five other A-wings had formed
around him, making him the "point" of the arrowhead. "Looks like
our company might run away before we can play.
"We wouldn't want that, would we?" Flight Officer Ketchin "Ketch" Brahe
The War Hawk reverted back to realspace along with Repellor
3. "Wave Runner II to gunship, we are checking youf IFFs."
Usually Ralt would give some kind of rude, insulting comment about
the checking of his ship's Identify- Friend or Foe transponders.
He had delivered goods to the Wave Runner more then once,
and he waited for the day he would be completely trusted by it's
crew. "We copy, Wave Runner II."
"Your IFFs are positive. Welcome Captain Ralt. It's been awhile."
"So it has..." Three more fighters entered the system.
Weezer looked behind his right shoulder as he heard his missile
warning lock go off once again. "These guys don't give up," he muttered.
"Second Lieutenant Andrew Bartha to three unknown R-41s. These
craft are under Alliance protection. Firing on them would be like
firing on us. Unless you are looking for fight, I suggest you turn
your vessels around."
Knightmare grimaced at the sight of the six A-wings closing in
on their position. "Well, Rebel, as much as I would love to face
down you and your playmates, we will have to take a raincheck."
The three fighters veered off their present course and made a 180-degree
turn. "Ralt, we will be seeing you again. You can count on that."
With that, Knightmare and his men jumped into hyperspace.
"I guess he wasn't in the mood to dance today. Alright boys, lets
escort the War Hawk back to the Wave Runner in style."
Darius pulled his fighter ahead of the gunship while the rest of
his wings covered each of its sides. The War Hawk was safe,
for the moment.
[(Present) Lamda Class T-4a Alliance Shuttle Home Bound]
"I was standing there with my arms folded, waiting for the crew
of the War Hawk to enter the hangar. Usually I would find
out before hand when they were coming to visit, but this time was
unexpected. Ralt lead his crew out of the transport that brought
them from the Hawk to the Runner and from the look
on his face, I figured something was wrong."
Stone was silent; he had kept his mouth closed for most of the
"When I didn't see Jason step out from the crew and give me a hardy
handshake, with Josie clinging to his arm, I knew right there they
were lost. My best friend Jason was dead."
"No reason for you to be sorry."
"Still, I'm sorry for your loss."
The intership-com came alive with DeWitt's voice. "Lieutenant Stone,
I need you up front. We will be at the Liberty in a few minutes."
Stone stood up from his seat and extended his hand. "Nice meeting
you, Lieutenant Finelli. Good luck with your new assignment."
Finelli took his hand and gave it a shake. "Thank you Lieutenant
Stone. Maybe I'll see you on the Liberty."
"It's possible." He smiled at Finelli and threw him a quick salute.
He pivoted on his right heel and made his way back to the cockpit
where DeWitt awaited.
Going to have to get used to that name, Finelli thought
as he trailed Stone with his eyes as the other exited. He looked
out the view port as the shuttle sped through hyperspace towards
its meeting with the Liberty. Talking about the death of
the best friend he had ever had in his life left a bad taste in
his mouth. For the last half a year he had tried to forget about
the subject by leaving them hidden deep in the darkest parts of
his soul, but they would occasionally escape leaving him distant
from others. Finelli was jolted forward as the Home Bound
reverted back to real space. In the distance he could see the giant
monstrosity of a ship, the Mon Calamari Cruiser Liberty.
Hundreds of lights glowed out of the cruiser as it slowly moved
across the star speckled backdrop.
"T-4a Shuttle Home Bound requesting landing clearance."
Captain DeWitt turned his head to his copilot who seemed to be distracted.
"You alright over there?"
"Yes, Sir. Just thinking of how these Outer Rim runs aren't as
bad as they seem."
DeWitt coughed sarcastically at the young Lieutenant as two A-wing
fighters shot out of the main hangar of the Liberty, and
made their way to rendezvous with the shuttle.
"Home Bound permission granted to dock in hangar A. We hope
you enjoy your stay on the Liberty, Captain." The two fighters
from Corsair Squadron formed up around the shuttle, giving her close
"Thank you Liberty, we'll see you onboard." The shuttle
closed in on the Liberty's main hangar, its wings beginning
to fold up as it prepared for the landing sequence. The Liberty's
tractor beam grabbed hold of the transport and eased it inside.
The two Corsairs broke off from their escort duty and re-circled
around the Liberty to dock in their assigned landing bay.
The landing gears of the shuttle retracted, DeWitt closely watching
traffic control as they directed him where to settle the ship down.
The Home Bound touched the deck of the hangar, and for the
first time in countless hours, shut down. DeWitt leaned back in
his seat and sighed in relief. "Mission accomplished Stone?"
Lieutenant Stone looked from the corner of his left eye at his
superior officer and gave him sincere nod. "Mission accomplished."
They stood up together and left the confines of the cockpit.
Finelli had grabbed his duffel bag between his two feet and stood
up. He was stiff from sitting for such a long time. Welcome home,
he thought as DeWitt and Stone entered the seating area.
"Can we help you, Lieutenant?"
"No thanks, Captain, you've done more then enough for me. Thanks
for the ride." He popped open the storage door above where his seat
was and slid out some more of his belongings.
"It was my..." DeWitt paused for a second. "...Our pleasure."
The rear of the shuttle hissed open to form a ramp to the Liberty's
hangar. The Renegade Wing pilot stepped down form the Home Bound
with his belongings in both hands. His eyes had to readjust to lighting
of the hangar. It was much brighter then he was used to. The hangar
was huge compared to what he was used to on the Wave Runner II.
He looked about absorbing his new surroundings. Six black X-wings
were positioned in front of him against the wall. Good-bye A-wing,
hello X. He dropped his bags to the floor and slowly walked
his way to one of the fighters. He ran his hand along the side of
the brand new T-65 that had not a scratch on it. He stopped as he
came across the logo of the squadron the fighter belonged to.
Finelli turned his head to the unknown voice. "So it is." A green
eyed man with a black flight suit, only a few years younger then
Finelli himself, stood with a data pad in his hand.
"You must be the transfer, Jasted, from Gray. Welcome to the Liberty.
I am the Executive Officer of Rogue, Captain Durgan." He extended
his hand to the new pilot in his squad.
Finelli gripped Durgan's hand for a firm shake. "Thank you Captain,
it's a pleasure to be here."
"I'm going to make this short and sweet Lieutenant," Alrick "Krayt"
Durgan pointed his finger to the line of X's. "If you look down
to your right, your bird is the fifth one down. An unbroken in T-65
Incom X-wing at your disposal. Did you have an astromech in Gray?"
"Not a problem. You will be assigned one," he searched for an astrodroid
opening on his data pad, "...astromech R2-Z0, a relatively experienced
droid may I add." Krayt noticed the bulge on the right side of Jasted's
jacket and gave it a slight pat to show that he knew it was there.
"You can drop off any personal weapons you may have at the quartermaster's
sometime tonight. And you need to check in with either Doc Banarj,
Major Burns, or the 2-1B Cutter within 48 hours - standard physical,
nothing to worry about. Finallym your quarter's assignment is room
301. Any questions?"
"No, Sir." Finelli was still digesting the feeling of being on
a different ship that would be called home.
"Excellent! Don't wander around the Liberty too much. The
Squadron briefing is at 0700 hours. You will be introduced to the
rest of Rogue at that time. Good to have you aboard Rogue 5."
Finelli snapped his new X.O. a sloppy salute, and with that he
was left alone with his thoughts. Rogue 5, I like the sound of
that. He grinned for a second, and then walked off to explore
his new surroundings.