Location: Bomis Koori IV
Objective: His Last Command
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Astarii Saren"], [member="Karen Roberts"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Noah Corek"], [member="Ajira Cardei"], [member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Cal Sedaire"], [member="Choli Vyn"], [member="Vale Endriss"], [member="Lucius Varad"], [member="Allyson Locke"], [member="Owen Holst"], [member="Devyn Lynton"], [member="Vance Caydence"].
Enemies: The Vanguard
1/38
"It is a pity that my collection of trophies contains not a single Rogue."
- Commandant Viktor Cross, Ebon Leader
Sim Pod, Officer's Country, Quasar Fire-class Cruiser Carrier Ebon Claw
High Orbit, Bomis Koori IV, Wornal Sector, Mid Rim
Vanguard Battlegroup
The X-Wing screamed over the range of mountains and canyons ahead, dancing and twisted in the low pressure atmosphere like a kite in a hurricane. Several dozen meters behind it, Ebon Leader matched every bank, every dive, every climb. The pilot probably assumed by this point that its evasive flying was too erratic, too chaotic, for the TIE Defender on its tail to do anything but keep up. But the Commandant saw the pattern, knew where the enemy craft would be even before it changed course. Rain hammered into his canopy as bolts of lightning illuminated the night sky all around them. To any other pilot, the starfighter ahead would have been lost in the weather long ago, but with his cybernetic eyes keeping track of his prey was all too easy for Ebon Leader. The X-Wing dove into a rocky canyon, scattered with natural arches, outcrops, and other challenging obstacles. The Commandant followed, hopeful that this engagement might bear some surprise after all.
Green laser blasts erupted from the TIE's two lower wings, forcing the fleeing ship off course, before a concussion missile streaked out from the launcher below the pilot module, decimating the top of an arch the X-Wing had banked to fly under. Giant falling debris and a billowing dust cloud temporarily, but the Commandant's training and hunter's instincts kept an eye out for any signs of a surviving craft. Ebon Leader's diligence paid off, as moments later his enhanced vision caught sight of the glint of an engine trail on an escape angle. Interesting, not only had the enemy survived the rock fall, but intended to use the cover to make a break for orbit. The pilot was likely hoping the seismic and visual disturbances would disrupt his sensors and line of sight long enough to put enough distance between himself and the faster craft to make the jump to lightspeed before Ebon Leader could reenter weapons range.
The trick had half-worked, as the starfighter still wasn't showing up on his sensors, but the Commandant let his prey think his gambit had succeeded as he followed a mental prediction of the X-Wing's ascent angle on a more shallow flight path, passing deep into the cloud cover as pounding rain and gusting winds vibrated the flight stick securely interfaced with the circuitry in Ebon Leader's hand. If the enemy broke orbit, it would be mission failure, but he wasn't concerned. Connected as he was with the wiring in the cockpit, the Commandant could in a way
feel the storm battering against his TIE, as he counted down down the last few seconds before angling upwards at an escape vector and punching the throttle up to maximum. The sudden acceleration in velocity would cause most sentient beings to black out from the gravitational force, but all throughout his body Ebon Leader's enhancements compensated, keeping him conscious.
He came at the X-Wing from underneath at an angle where the enemy pilot would have to essentially invert his craft to get a visual sighting, lasers streaking out in practiced groups of four. The first few barrages overloaded the starfighter's shields, and the last human part of the Commandant relished the thought of the terror in his prey's mind when he realized he had nowhere to go. This close to the upper atmosphere, any evasive action would likely tear the X-Wing apart, and all he could do was pray to his Jedi saviors in vain as the next wave of green lasers arced towards his ship. Having caught his quarry between the same death by two different means, Ebon Leader allowed the barest whisper of a smile as the simulation ended and the custom-built pod opened with a hiss. A small team of Imperial crewmen were immediately swarming all around him, detaching wires and tubes from the simulation cockpit.
"My compliments to the programmer," Commandant Viktor Cross's voice was cold and electronic and filled with anything but praise, "You extended the engagement by 14.37 seconds."
"Most gracious of you to say so, Ebon Leader," one of the technicians stammered, avoiding direct eye contact with any part of the Commandant's visored gaze, "But we pulled you out early for a reason."
"Obviously."
Viktor Cross had served in the Starfighter Corps longer than any other man or woman alive, had seen more combat, had gotten more kills. And, as is a matter of course for a career spanning decades, been wounded and shot down more than anyone else as well. Instead of simply tossing out what was left of him, the Vanguard had simply replaced the missing pieces with technology and enhancements. When Ebon Leader entered a TIE fighter, he became almost a part of the ship. Consequently, when he was removed from one he slowly began to die. All in all, a fair trade in the Commandant's mind, but it meant what time he didn't spend out in the void he spent here, or in a custom life support chamber in his quarters.
"The Battlegroup has detected several hyperspace reversions near the nebulae," the crewman explained, his voice trembling, "An Alliance task force. We've...we've yet to decrypt their transponder codes, but they've been scanned and..."
"And?" the Commandant prompted, quietly but with a violent edge.
"One of them matches the specifications on file for...for an Unyielding-class, Ebon Leader."
"Prepare my TIE," he snapped, leaping from the pod and stalking past the still frantically working crew, stray wires dangling off his frame.
Rogue Squadron. A challenge at last.
"Give me a fully loaded X-Wing and I'll shake the gates of heaven."
- Commander Alexandra Russo, Rogue Leader (retired)
Bridge, Unyielding-class Command Cruiser Rebel's Hope
Hyerspace, En Route to Bomis Koori IV, Wornal Sector, Mid Rim
Federation Task Force
"Status," Captain Zark Pulsar barked out across the already tense deck.
"Hyperspace reversion in ten minutes," his third officer responded dutifully, engrossed in a nearby tactical station, "All squadrons prepped and awaiting launch orders."
Thanking Arix with a nod that went unnoticed, he moved from his position at the center of the bridge to stand by Commander Stazi, and together they looked out through the viewport at the starlines of hyperspace. Flexing the digits awkwardly in his recently acquired obsidian prosthetic hand, Zark said nothing to the duros executive officer as the two prepared themselves in their own ways for combat in those final moments. Although no stranger to battle and a veteran of several engagements while in command of the
Hope already, this would be the Captain's first large scale operation spent ostensibly on the
bridge actually giving
orders to this crew. On both Belsavis and Castameer, he had gone down to the surface on missions of critical purpose, and both times
Mazik Stazi had taken command and led the
Rebel's Hope to victory. Despite their differences, after all they had been through together in so short of a time Pulsar knew he could rely on the grouchy old duros to keep him on the right track.
"Just like old times," he mumbled at last.
"Get many armadas of overzealous authoritarian nutjobs in the Kathol Outback, did you?" Mazik asked.
"
Almost just like old times," he amended.
"Sir, we have a problem," Arix called out from behind them.
"Report!" they both called at once, glancing at each other sheepishly.
"Several hazards at the assigned reversion point," the cyborg operations officer relayed, "We have no choice to drop out farther in system, and closer to the Vanguard formation."
"Trap?" Zark asked the duros.
"Reversion imminent!"
The command cruiser erupted into realspace into a hail of long range Imperial turbolaser fire. Their comm line came alive with orders from the
Penitent Fury to press onward with the plan, and moments later cries went up on the
Hope's bridge of interdiction fields behind them.
"Trap," the Commander agreed, and after a nod from his captain began shouting orders of his own, "Lieutenant Vryyr get those javelins cycled and keep firing! Alert all fighters, they have their go for launch!"
With the nebulae on one side and a mined asteroid field on their other, this battlefield was liable to turn into a shooting gallery quick, and it would only be a matter of time before the Imperial fighters scrambled and were upon them.
