Pilot Archive

Thread: X-Wing: The Nalera Conflict

Halyn
Mon Sep 19, 2005 7:50 am
#14
The trip in-system was relatively uneventful. While Halyn had spotted more than a few craft he suspected were pirates, no one was desperate enough to mess with a Z-95 Headhunter. After all, Halyn noted, a Z-95 is armed and dangerous--not to mention that I can't really carry a cargo of any value on this thing.


The asteroid field was as dense as the hologram had shown. For a freighter, even smaller models like the YKL-37r or the YT-1300, the asteroids would have been nigh impassable, although Halyn was fairly certain a different approach to the miners' base would've been far easier.For a snubfighter pilot, it was child's play to navigate the dense asteroids. Halyn plunged into the field wihtout slowing, weaving the old, agile craft through theheavy clusters of ever-movingspace rock. He continually divided his focus between his immediate flying and anticipating the course he needed to fly to escape any damage. The Z-95 held up admirably well, and only once did the shields take an impact. The Zabrak had misjudged the velocity of two asteroids and had barely slipped between them, coming so close the shields leftsuperheatedrock on both asteroids.


The mining facility was a bizarre-looking contraption. The center of the base was largely spherical. On "top" of the major part of the base was a smaller boxy superstructure with comm gear and, the Rebel suspected, the sensor gear and command center. Four long docking arms extended at ninety degree intervals around the equator, and a small hanger facility was attached to the "bottom" of the base. Two of the docking arms were occupied by mining freighters, while the other two were open.


A flight of Z-95 Headhunters, not unlike his own, circled the perimeter of the open space around the mining station. "Deuce," Halyn said, "open a channel to the lead Headhunter in that flight." When his comm flashed, indicating the channel was open, he spoke, "Hailing Z-95 flight leader, this is Halyn Lance of the Rebel Alliance. May I approach?"


"Hold position, Rebel Z-95," a female voice replied. "This is A'Lerris Verata of the Nalera mining guild. What do you want, Lance?"


"I have orders to come here to negotiate purchase of high-grade ore that you've been mining."


Verata's voice was filled with laughter and sarcasm. "Oh, I'm sure, Rebel. Why don't you get your butt out of here, and next time come up with something creative. We've had the 'Corporate Sector Authority', the 'Alderaanian relief fund', and the 'Corellian government' here alone this week. You really think I'm going to fall for that?"


Realization struck the Zabrak. Surrounded by all the criminal elements in the system--surrounded by crime, lack of ethics, and greed--they won't trust me. The Hutts have probably tried ploys like this before to gain their trust so they could turn around and stab the miners in the back again. Which means...


Halyn's voice was even as he replied. "You wouldn't be falling for anything. What do I need to prove myself?"


"Prove yourself?" Verata's voice was bemused. "What do you think this is, a trial?"


"I only want a chance," Hal said, sweating slightly. This had better work... "The ore is important to the Alliance. I'll do whatever you want to prove I'm who I say I am."


"Alright, you want to prove yourself? Here's the deal," Verata replied. "I've got a mining freighter coming in from a different section of asteroids in the system, fully loaded with ore--a cargo worth twenty thousand credits at current prices. I'm fairly certain either Valarian or the Hutts will try to take it off the line. You get that freighter back here, and we'll talk."


Halyn nodded in his cockpit. "Give me the coordinates."


"Tune into the comm channel thirty-eight cycles above this one. That's the channel our freighter's using. That should let you find it." The comm channel broke up and died.


Hal sighed. "Got the coordinates, Deuce?" A spot on his CMD lit up and, heeling his fighter over, he accelerated towards the inner edge of the asteroids again, back towards his rendevouz with his charge.




Halyn Lance -- Rara Avis Flight School
Common sense is highly uncommon.
...has mastered the Pilot profession.
"I'll type this slowly so even Imperials can understand..."--Michael Stackpole, RS IRC
Narrganocca
Mon Sep 19, 2005 11:41 am
#15
cool story, more please



Fear leads to anger, anger leads to stress
stress leads to doobies, doobies lead to twinkies
Halyn
Tue Sep 20, 2005 9:36 am
#16

The converted freighter had just left the edge of its asteroid field when Halyn found it. Circling around it protectively, he finally dropped into a slow cruise off its starboard side. Weariness washed over him. Too much fighting, he chided himself. The Zabrak never slept well on long hyperspace jumps in a starfighter, and he had already had one fight since entering the system. I need some rest--I'm drowsy, and that's costing me a combat edge. Speaking of combat... "Deuce," he said aloud, "give me a full systems status readout on my main display."


An overview of the Z-95 lit up the CMD. The snubfighter's hyperdrive was showing minor damage from his back-fire maneuver earlier against the TIEs, but otherwise was running fine. His fuel gauge, however, was far more worrisome. While a hyperdrive wasn't hard on fuel comparatively speaking, a three-day jump taxed his fuel reserves quite heavily, and he had spent quite a bit of time running on sublights since his arrival in the system. "Uh, Deuce? Assuming we have two combat engagements on the way back to the Nalera base, how much fuel will we have left when we finish this escort?"


A moment later, the answer displayed itself on a secondary monitor: 1%. Wonderful.


Settling into his seat as comfortably as he could, Hal patiently watched the rangefinder drop as they ever-so-slowly closed the distance to the Nalera base. He fought off sleep, catching himself twice nodding off in spite of his best efforts to stay alert. Fatigue tugged at his consciousness, urging him to fall asleep.


The third time nodding off, however, he was brought back to full awareness by the shrill warning shriek of his astromech. Laserfire danced off his forward shield, blinding him for a moment as the pilot rammed the throttle forward. A starfighter whipped past his port wing, between his Headhunter and the mining ship. Senses at full alert and adrenaline flushing weariness from his system, Halyn pulled the fighter through a tight loop to catch another solid look at the aggressor.


It took a few moments, but the Rebel finally identified the attacking starfighter: a MandalMotors M3-A Interceptor, nicknamed the "Scyk". Rumored to have been originally commissioned by the Hutts for purposes of piracy and racketeering, the little craft were old and fairly rare.Unarmored, lightly shielded, and lightly armed, the little interceptors were barely better than a TIE line fighter. These particular craft were painted a two-tone brown, probably for purposes of camoflage andconcealment if they were landed onTatooine'sdust-bowl surface.


Halyn smiled, his Headhunter pursuing the Scyk pilot. The Scyk jockey wasn't bad, but he wasn't military-trained, either. The Z-95's cannons blew through the light shields and shredded the starfighter, sending debris tumbling over the mining ship's aft shields. A second Scyk strafed the freighter from below, but Halyn's swift counterattack left the other fighter as an expanding ball of superheated gas.


Fatigue began to drag again as adrenaline wore off. Halyn shook his head. "Who were those guys, Deuce?" he asked.


The astromech began to whistle a response, but it turned into a warning squeal again. This time, a fullflight of the Scyks--these painted a black-and-white scheme--werecruising straightat the freighter. "...render now or be destroyed," the comm blared. The pilot smiled grimly, locking his concussion missiles onto the lead fighter. "Deuce, I need some special programing," he called. "I need the missiles to lock onto heat sources and follow them until they hit, with a ten-meter proximity sensor. Got it?"


When the range to the Scyks hit twenty-five hundred meters, Halyn accelerated his Z-95 out in front of the freighter. Dropping his crosshairs on the left-most fighter in the echelon formation, he fired his first missile. Ruddering around until his crosshairs were on the right-most fighter, he launched a second missile. Straightening his course, he settled his lasers on the middle of the formation and pushed the throttle forward againto combat speed.


The first missile picked up the target Hal had intended. The first enemy starfighter exploded, never knowing what hit him. The second missile picked up the middle fighter in the remaining wedge and detonated. Shrapnel from the explosion took out a third fighter, leaving only one Scyk left out of the attack formation. That fourth pilot, apparently rattled by the loss of his squadmates before even entering effective laser range, dropped his fighter into a tight turn and accelerated away at a rate that even the modified Rebel Headhunter couldn't match.


Halyn watched him go, then settled into the freighter's wake as they entered the Naleran's home asteroid field.


The freighter couldn't maneuver through the asteroids, and instead used its tractor beam arrays to clear itself a path. The two ships were barely inside the field when Halyn's comm lit up with a transmission.


"This is Verata--get clear of the freighter, now!"


Halyn frowned. "Still don't trust me?"


"Get clear!" the order came again, a trace of panic in the other's voice.


"What's going on?" the Rebel pilot asked.


"Dammit! Get out of there!" A'Lerris shouted, panic evident in her voice.


The Zabrak sighed. What the hell is going on here, anyways? Banking the ship into the asteroids, he accelerated away from the freighter and into the dense asteroid field.


The mining ship exploded in his wake. The shockwave began to send rocks tumbling in all directions. "Oh, Sithspawn," Halyn whispered as the ongoing tumbling wave of asteroids began to catch up with him. Throttle to the stops, he wove between asteroids faster than any sane pilot would attempt, trying to stay ahead of the shockwave. Still, it wasn't enough--he could see the wave would catch him before he couldreach the clear zone around the Nalera mining base. "Deuce!" he shouted. "Run program AreEfBe, now!"


The astromech squealed in terror, but complied.


The custom-written astromech program executed itself. Halyn had written the program himself as a last-ditch, no-holds-barred technique for survival, though he had never really expected to use it. The last of the snubfighter's fuel reserves were dumped straight into the fusial reaction chamber. The Z-95 roared valiantly as its engines were superpowered--and superheated--by the raw fuel. The craft accelerated faster than even its rebuilt specs allowed for, and the whole chassis groaned in spite of the inertial compensator's .97 setting. Praying the last-ditch idea would work, the Zabrak clutched the snubfighter's stick in a white-knuckle embrace, weaving around the last few asteroids. The clear zone was just ahead--a few hundred meters.


Then the engines died, fuel reserves completely depleted.


The fighter coasted on, inertia still favoring the fighter. But without the constant acceleration, the shock wave caught the snubfighter and hurled it forward in a rain of shattered rock. The Zabrak closed his eyes, helpless, as the controls died. The shields sparked with repeated hits and finally succumbed to the onslaught of rock. The fighter, no longer powered, lost its relatively straight-line flight. The inertial compensator failed for lack of power, and the g-forces of the tumbling ship took a toll on the pilot. Hal felt sick, both from the tumble and the fact that he had failed. He closed his eyes, prepared for the inevitable death of a Headhunter smashing into uncaring asteroid.


The fighter shuddered harder than it ever had before, throwing the pilot into his safety harness. The straps painfully bit into his skin, even through his grey flightsuit. The pain barely registered, though, as the Zabrak tried to hang onto consciousness.




Halyn Lance -- Rara Avis Flight School
Common sense is highly uncommon.
...has mastered the Pilot profession.
"I'll type this slowly so even Imperials can understand..."--Michael Stackpole, RS IRC
PaceNebulon
Tue Sep 20, 2005 10:49 am
#17

ok... now your just torturing me. I usually don't read fan writing due to the amateurish styles, but this is definitely a professional quality story. It is not to heavy in detail so as to slow the pace of the story but enough to entice the readers imagination into doing the rest of the work for you. Even though I normally avoid this type of thing, I must admit that you are killing me. I can't wait to see more.





Pace Nebulon+Stealth+
...has mastered the Pilot profession
TIE Interceptor Guide to PvP
"Your generic TIE grunt is just plain suicidal. And the TIE Defender jockey is bloodthirsty. But the TIE Interceptor pilot, he's suicidal and bloodthirsty. When you see a squad of those maniacs flying your way, you'd better hope your hyperdrive is operational." - Kyle Katarn
CNevyn
Tue Sep 20, 2005 11:05 am
#18
Very well written. I look forward to the next installment.



C'Nevyn Agere Ranger / Riflemen / Ace Alliance Pilot
Sunrunner - Rori.
"They don't like it when you shoot at 'em. I worked that one out myself."
Learning to Fly
K.I.S.S.: Guide to Better Piloting
KCcrusher
Tue Sep 20, 2005 11:58 am
#19
/agree I am beginning to follow this thread very closely. You are doing a great job. There is too much time between my Dallet fixes, so I may have found a new drug.



KCcrusher - Jedi, Rebel Colonel, and Ace B-wing Pilot flying Clone Crusher I
KCcrasher - Master Shipwright 12 pt Chassis/17 pt weapons/17 pt engines
KC's Starship parts, just 1300m outside Tyrena, Corellia -3602 -1627
Contactmein-game email for special orders or for help with ship problems


Spacey
Wed Sep 21, 2005 12:15 am
#20

Very well written - you have my attention.








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The Outer Rim Trading Company

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Halyn
Wed Sep 21, 2005 1:57 pm
#21

The universe's rapid spin slowed for the Zabrak pilot. The hull rattled loudlyas stones bounced off the snubfighter's tough chassis. The roar slowly faded to nothingness.


Halyn opened his eyes.


The Z-95 Headhunter hung in the grip of one of the Nalera mining base's tractor beams a half-kilometer inside the inner edge of the asteroid field. The other beams were still busy directing asteroids away, keeping the clear zone safe around the station for the mining vessels and escort fighters.


The pilot blinked, unbelieving.


I should've died...how did I...what happened?


The universe's spin finally halted completely as his dizziness faded away. Alright, recap: I had just gotten the mining freighter inside the asteroid field when A'Lerris told me to get clear. I started to fly away, and the freighter exploded. The shockwave was catching me, so I ran that emergency boost program Deuce has stored, but I ran out of fuel and my ship shut down a few hundred meters inside the field yet. The shockwave caught me and threw my Z-95 forward. I must've missed the last asteroids and entered the clear zone where the station could tractor me. He glanced out his cockpit and winced--the starboard wing was half its previous length. Well, mostly missed the last asteroids, he amended.


The fighter shuddered again. Without the inertial compensator, Hal could feel the motion directly. "They're pulling us in, Deuce," he said calmly. When silence was his only reply, he asked "Deuce, are you okay? Deuce? Deuce, dammit, answer me!" He slammed a hand off his canopy, which was now scuffed from the stones and the virtual sandblasting it had received in the shockwave. In his X-wing, the pilot could've turned to check his astromech; in the Z-95, the R2 unit was invisible under his armored cover.


The hanger on the bottom of the mining stationed lit up invitingly as the heavy blast doors opened. Halyn tapped his foot impatiently in the cockpit, unable to do anything else. Slowly, the tractor beam dropped the Headhunter to the deck with a heavy thud.Four other Z-95 Headhunters, far closer to stock than his own, hogged most of the space. Hal reached for the level to trip the canopy, but thought better of it as he looked back at the blast door. Probably don't have a magcon field on this thing--they draw too much power.


An eternity later, the blast doors boomed as they joined together, sealing the hanger. Halyn tripped his canopy and pushed the transparisteel up, unbucklinghis flight harness as he pulled himself clear. The deck was only a half-meter down, as the Z-95's landing gear were still firmly in the hull, unable to deploy without power.


Although finally free of the claustrophobic cockpit, the Rebel immediately turned his attention to unlatching the armor cover and freeing his astromech droid. Though the cover was clearly designed to require two people to open, as it had no hydraulic lifts and could only be pulled up manually, the pilot managed to pry it open, pouring all his strength into it. The cover finally gave in, revealing the R2 astromech underneath.


Deuce showed no damage, although the compartment had a quarter-inch of sand and dust layered surprisingly even within. Cursing, Hal tried to get a handhold to pull the astromech out, but couldn't quite manage. When his hold slipped, he stumbled back and fell on his back onto the port wing.


"Need a hand?" a female voice asked in Basicfrom just beyond his view.





Halyn Lance -- Rara Avis Flight School
Common sense is highly uncommon.
...has mastered the Pilot profession.
"I'll type this slowly so even Imperials can understand..."--Michael Stackpole, RS IRC
ViperWolf
Wed Sep 21, 2005 4:47 pm
#22




Halyn wrote:


.......


"Need a hand?" a female voice asked in Basicfrom just beyond his view.






Oooh, is she hot?



Li' Coden, RSPA
Sabre Squadron Commander
Master Trader (Structures) / Master Rebel Pilot

Jareen Vorn, RSPA
CL90 Officer / Master Privateer Pilot

"Who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." - T. Roosevelt
LeaphChausew
Thu Sep 22, 2005 6:54 am
#23




ViperWolf wrote:




Halyn wrote:


.......


"Need a hand?" a female voice asked in Basicfrom just beyond his view.






Oooh, is she hot?




I bet I could guess who that female is first try. The name ***** **** comes to mind

ViperWolf
Thu Sep 22, 2005 3:12 pm
#24




LeaphChausew wrote:





ViperWolf wrote:




Halyn wrote:


.......


"Need a hand?" a female voice asked in Basicfrom just beyond his view.






Oooh, is she hot?




I bet I could guess who that female is first try. The name ***** **** comes to mind




I think were thinking of the same person



Li' Coden, RSPA
Sabre Squadron Commander
Master Trader (Structures) / Master Rebel Pilot

Jareen Vorn, RSPA
CL90 Officer / Master Privateer Pilot

"Who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." - T. Roosevelt
AideonOfAesir
Thu Sep 22, 2005 6:57 pm
#25

Halyn - Just found this...I like your writing a lot. I also like that I'm pretty much the first person mentioned in the whole thing.





Abi Ocopaqui
Pre Nge: Master Bounty Hunter - Master Combat Medic - Pistoleer 4-0-0-0
Mayor - New Horizon, Rori


"Luck is merely an illusion, trusted by the ignorant and chased by the foolish." - Timothy Zahn
Halyn
Thu Sep 22, 2005 7:00 pm
#26

Is it bad to tell you that that may be the *last* time you're mentioned?


Sorry, no update till tomorrow evening at the latest--working on a psych paper.





Halyn Lance -- Rara Avis Flight School
Common sense is highly uncommon.
...has mastered the Pilot profession.
"I'll type this slowly so even Imperials can understand..."--Michael Stackpole, RS IRC
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