Cheapshot
Daredevil TIE Pilot | Darkstar Squadron
Week Before Dubrillion-Echol’ya Offensive
Open Space, Near Angor System
Myto Sector, Outer Rim
Aboard the NIO Defiance-Class Star Destroyer “Karak Marasiah”
39th New Imperial Battle Squadron "Empress Marasiah", First Crusaders Fleet Force Corps
Joint Special Task Force Group Myto-Obtrexta “Snipers”
Cheapshot, the Zeltron TIE Pilot, sat back slumped into the cockpit chair of her TIE/Vx Vanguard starfighter. Her legs were up with her feet rested on the flat top of the up-front control panel, arched over the control yoke. Her shoulders shrugged up, they framed her slouching head and her displeased expression as she crossed her hands below the life-support chest plate. Her comms were tuned to the chatter between her own Eighty-First NIO Fighter Group’s Group Commander and the Joint Force NIO Starfighter Component Commander (JFSCC), called Jeff-Sicc sometimes, General Giaforr Ferhann.
The two went back and forth calling, copying, and authenticating navigation and sensor data. The Eighty-First had been attached to the Joint Special Task Force Group for Myto-Obtrexta corridor, Snipers, along with Galactic Alliance components from their naval and starfighter forces. Snipers’ job was to seek and destroy Sith-Imperial supply convoys which had been using the Myto hyperlane to funnel the redeployment of supplies to the Dubrillion and Jaemus System.
Snipers was half way through its infringement of the Myto Hyperlane, with all starfighter components on rotating active area sweep. For Cheapshot and her Darkstar Squadron Flight, “Destroyers”, it meant a tedious cycle of some flying and then hours of staying in her starfighter on stand-by.
“Hey Cheaps,” called a Hangar Technician Officer from the open hatch of her Vanguard.
His head popped into the eye-ball fuselage and came with an arm reaching out to tap Cheapshot on the head. Cheapshot tilted her head back and shot a scowling jerk of her head, silently calling on the tech-officer to get on with it.
“Jeff-Sicc wants all flight commanders in the sub-bridges, ASAP,” he continued, “Said he’s got the Alliance’s navy commander (
Mordred B'Haran
) on holo-line.”
“You fething schitting me?” Cheapshot whined back.
“Fraid’not,” Tech-officer replied.
“Imperator’s left nut, death by stand-by and now an extended schitting debrief with the Fleet Whippers,” Cheapshot said as she slowly nudged herself upright and began to climb out of the cockpit.
“Almost makes me miss my prison cell back on Commenor.”
Stepping onto the gangway that lined the ceiling of the star destroyer’s hangar, Cheapshot patted her self down and adjusted the black folds her TIE pilot’s uniform. The Tech-officer placed his hands on his hips and gave her a wry smile. Cheashot smirked, shrugged, and smacked the officer on his back before leaving for the exit doors. While making her way to the repulsorlift elevators, she reached into the sleeve pocket on her flight suit where a pack of smuggled Chandrilan Ciggaras was scrunched up inside. Unzipping the pocket she plucked a black and gold filter cigarra stick and lit it with a flip-lighter crammed into the same pocket. She took a deep breath and spat out a plume of purple smoke, then returned to cigarra to her purple lips where they lazily hung on the precipice of her lower lip.
Rounding a corner she came across the other Flight Commander in the Darkstar Squadron,
Jalter Volff
, commander of the Bombers Flight. Cheapshot rolled the cigarra into the corner of her mouth and with the edge of the other she mumbled out a greeting as they both entered the elevator.
“Hold up Bomber Boy,” Cheapshot said.
She pulled the cigarra from her lips and expelled a smoky mist from her nostrils while groaning.
“I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to take all of this schitt,” she opined.
“What’s the point of being a flyboy if you’re stuck hanging from the fething dock plank like cured meat?”
Cheapshot pointed to Jalter with the cigarra stuck between her index and middle finger.
“Jeff-sicc better be giving us some Task Orders or some schitt or else I’m just gonna grab something to eat and gorge myself into a coma.”
The doors opened and Cheapshot exited, as the two NIO pilots emerged into a long corridor that led to the sub-bridges of the star destroyer they came across the Alliance starfighters who had also been present.
“Ho’schitt it’s the laser-sword heroes,” Cheapshot laughed as she waved at Saber Squadron.
“The whole fething party is here to get bored into oblivion. Lovely.”
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