If there was one thing the Underground needed, it was pilots committed as equally to its ideals and values as they were to flying. It wasn't an easy balance to find. There were many people who cared deeply and selflessly about the causes of freedom and fearlessness, but couldn't fly, and there were just as many pilots who only cared about flying. Roth understood those people. He had been one of them for a long time in his youth, but he'd found his way again, and come back to his roots.
The Castilon Five racing circuit. A planet outside the borders of space, mostly forgotten and left more or less alone. With the official foundation of Liberty Wing, Roth needed to find pilots. And there was nowhere else better to find them than here. The tricky part was finding the ones with the guts to put their lives and their ships on the line for the betterment of others. So, he'd gathered a contingent of Underground personnel and brought them to Castilon Five to seek out new recruits. Racers, ground crews, anyone with a genius for machines and a heart for the cause.
Except everything had gone wrong. Call it the Force, poor luck, whatever it was. Now the team was trapped on the supertanker, with their transports burning on the docks and a flotilla of raiders surrounding them, going after the fuel supplies. Comms were jammed and their rendezvous with the rest of the Underground ships not for another week.
They were on their own.
Roth rubbed his temple and stared up at the shapes floating on the horizon. The thrum of their repulsors sent waves lapping against the ship's hull and waves of heated air rising above the watery surface. The grimy life aboard the station had come to a halt while the siege continued. It was only a matter of time before the raiders launched their attack and with no rain coming, they might have to dip into the ship's supply reserves after a few days. So many were crammed into the center of the ship to stay away from any turbolaser blasts or torpedo explosions that might hammer against the hull.
The Underground team was a mixture of pilots and ground operatives, which gave them the skills and training to counter both the boarding parties and the surrounding flotilla. The problem was the lack of supplies and numbers. Outnumbered. Outgunned. Outplanned, but never outfought. That's what it would take from them to get out of this and save all the people living on the ship.
Roth pushed himself up from the bulkhead and strode back into the quarters where the rest of the Underground team had assembled.
"Gather round, Undergrounders," he called over the chatter, "It's time to put our heads together and find a way out of this mess. What you got in mind?"
The Castilon Five racing circuit. A planet outside the borders of space, mostly forgotten and left more or less alone. With the official foundation of Liberty Wing, Roth needed to find pilots. And there was nowhere else better to find them than here. The tricky part was finding the ones with the guts to put their lives and their ships on the line for the betterment of others. So, he'd gathered a contingent of Underground personnel and brought them to Castilon Five to seek out new recruits. Racers, ground crews, anyone with a genius for machines and a heart for the cause.
Except everything had gone wrong. Call it the Force, poor luck, whatever it was. Now the team was trapped on the supertanker, with their transports burning on the docks and a flotilla of raiders surrounding them, going after the fuel supplies. Comms were jammed and their rendezvous with the rest of the Underground ships not for another week.
They were on their own.
Roth rubbed his temple and stared up at the shapes floating on the horizon. The thrum of their repulsors sent waves lapping against the ship's hull and waves of heated air rising above the watery surface. The grimy life aboard the station had come to a halt while the siege continued. It was only a matter of time before the raiders launched their attack and with no rain coming, they might have to dip into the ship's supply reserves after a few days. So many were crammed into the center of the ship to stay away from any turbolaser blasts or torpedo explosions that might hammer against the hull.
The Underground team was a mixture of pilots and ground operatives, which gave them the skills and training to counter both the boarding parties and the surrounding flotilla. The problem was the lack of supplies and numbers. Outnumbered. Outgunned. Outplanned, but never outfought. That's what it would take from them to get out of this and save all the people living on the ship.
Roth pushed himself up from the bulkhead and strode back into the quarters where the rest of the Underground team had assembled.
"Gather round, Undergrounders," he called over the chatter, "It's time to put our heads together and find a way out of this mess. What you got in mind?"
So, here's the next thread for the Underground! Inspired, both by request and idea, by the Magnificent Seven and Seven Samurai. A small group of talented, experienced individuals and a civilian community facing overwhelming odds with no chance of escape and no cavalry coming to the rescue. So, make a plan! Create the NPCs! Make this an epic Underground story together