Pilot Archive

Argus Sanshir's anger cooled slightly as his focus waxed, preparing for the deadly furball ahead. "Private channel, Six," he said over the comm. He swapped his transmission over to a private channel with the other Headhunter. "You there?"

"I'm here, Five," the other's voice came back cooly.

"I don't trust you, Six, but I need you to get through this scrape. Can I count on you?"

"I'm here on behalf of the Alliance, just like I told A'Lerris. Trust me or not, it's your choice, but I'm here to help."

The dark-skinned Zabrak nodded once, briefly. "You know how to fly these things?"

"I've flown them on occassion," Halyn responded. "Before I joined the Alliance."

"Lock your wings all the way back for minimum profile," Argus ordered.

"Already done that, chief."

"Stay with me tight. This is going to get ugly."

"Blaster range is fifteen seconds," Hal reported.

"Shields solid?"

"Affirmative. Ten seconds."

"Let's do it." Just like old times, Argus added silently. Just like old times.

The two Mark Is ripped straight through the furball. Argus held his trigger down, unleashing a torrent of blaster bolts. The target he hit, a Y-wing, took the burst on its shields and survived. An instant later, the Zabrak's Z-95 rattled hard as his target exploded from Halyn's follow-up shot. "Nice shooting," Argus called.

"Thanks for softening him up."

"We've got their attention, watch your back!" Argus warned.

Halyn's fighter juked, then spiraled "upwards" unsteadily. The pirate chasing him couldn't quite keep up, and was taken off-guard when the pilot decelerated. Again the pirate's ship took the beating the Mark I's triple blasters dealt out, but Argus's follow-up shot detonated the Cloakshape's reactor. Argus clutched the stick as he rolled away from the fireball, swearing as his sensor package blanked out from the interference. A moment later it flicked pack on, but only showed two friendlies in the immediate vicinity. Lost Eight.

Argus's own ship shuddered from a glancing hit, and his shields failed. Another shot ripped into his hull, but the tough old Mark I took the beating. His aggressor vanished in a shower of blasterfire from Six and Seven's cannons. "Three down, three to go," he called.

"Make that Four," Halyn corrected easily. "Two left." The other Y-wing was spiralling away from the battle, clearly out of control even if the pilot still lived.

"Roger. Stay with me, Seven." Argus dove towards the two remaining Cloakshapes, which were carefully covering each other, Seven hanging mere meters behind and off his starboard wing. He held his trigger down again, raking blasterfire randomly over the two pirate snubfighters. They split formation. Bingo. There's their mistake. "Seven get the other one," Argus called as he dove after one of the fleeing Cloakshapes, still firing blasters steadily, trying to get a solid hit.

Something exploded at the back of Argus's craft. Sithspawn! It was a diversion! He pulled the stick over, trying to roll his ship and dive away from his pursuer. The fighter refused to respond."Seven!" he shouted. "Help!" The security pilot desperately pulled the throttle back, hoping to force the pirate to break off or overshoot. The engines sputtered, then died completely, leaving the Headhunter helpless in the grip of inertia. "Seven!"

A speck appeared in front of Argus's fighter, growing rapidly. It quickly resolved itself into a recognizable Mark I Z-95.

"Oh, no," he breathed. Halyn's fighter accelerated towards him, opening fire. Reddish blasterfire blinded the security pilot, and Argus closed his eyes, expecting to be vaporized.

His snubfighter shuddered again from an explosion. He opened his eyes to see the remains of the Cloakshape rain past his clear transparisteel canopy. "Damn you, Halyn," he muttered.

"Seven, see if you can lock a magnetic line onto Argus and tow him back to base. I'm going to help the others," Halyn called confidently over the comm. "And better make it fast--those IRDs are going to catch up with us soon."

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

IGN Eteecette
ITF on Intrepid
I'd shoot a space bomb at SOE/LA but they are immune like the Reb Base.
Dragon Slayer II

Denmha Porter
Master Creature Handler/Master Bounty Hunter - CANCELLED
You can kill your game, but when you killed my pets you went too far.

Denmha - now a dwarf hunter in WoW.

"The only Imp I regret never meeting was Grand Admiral Thrawn, he was also the only one I was ever sad to see go." Talax Shrad

One Flight's formation was settled around the freighter, patrolling easily. The two Y-wings attacking it had been vaporized by the security pilots early on. Halyn settled his Z-95 in high above the freighter and watched his scopes.

Seven was towing Argus towards the mining base. The Zabrak was cursing over the comm. "Watch that kriffing asteroid!" The towed Z-95 shuddered as it scraped off a rock. "Hey! If you don't kriffing watch it, you'll be repairing this kriffing thing yourself!"

Halyn snickered quietly, then flicked his comm over to One Flight's channel. "This is Six," he said easily. "What's the plan, chief?"

"Those IRDs are going to be on us before we can get into the asteroid field," Two piped up.

"Bring 'em on," Snout responded, bravado evident.

"Lead, what's the plan?" Halyn asked again. When A'Lerris hesitated, the Zabrak understood her dilemma. Those IRDs are faster and more maneuverable than a Z-95 in vacuum. If we were in atmosphere, we'd have the maneuverability advantage--IRDs are designed for pure space combat. We're outgunned, outmaneuvered, outclassed. Which means the only thing we could possibly do is...

"I've got an idea, Lead," Halyn said slyly.

"And that is?" A'Lerris asked.

"Well, you're not going to like it." The Rebel watched as the distance ticked down as the IRDs closed.

"Spit it out, Six."

"IRDs aren't armed with ion cannons."

"So?"

"They can'tdisable a freighter."

"I'm not following, Six."

"If they come up on the freighter...what are they going to do to it? They can't hit it with ion cannons. The worst they could do is blow it up."

"You want to take that chance, Six?"

"It's better than dying," Elle chimed in.

"Lead, you and I both know this is a fight we can't win. They're holding all the cards." Halyn hated admitting it--it was a personal policy never to admit defeat before he was defeated--but he saw no sense in letting a bunch of good pilots die. "There's no clever tricks that'll work."

"So what do you suggest?"

"There's one way we can beat them, Lead."

"How's that?"

"Into the asteroid field." The IRDs were less than five kilometers away. The distance melted away far too rapidly for Halyn's taste. His mouth went dry. "All the pilots here, except me, have flown ever cubic centimeter of that asteroid field. It's the only advantage we have in this fight."

A'Lerris's response was immediate. "Everyone, into the asteroids, now! Stay with your wingmen! Six, join up with me and Two."

Halyn rammed his throttle forward, along with the other pilots. The five Z-95s rocketed away from the freighter, angling into the nearest edge of the dense asteroid field surrounding the Nalera mining base. I hope I'm right about this, the pilot thought. If I'm wrong, we're going to wind up just as dead, or we'll lose the freighter.

As the Headhunters entered the asteroid field, the irony of the situation occured to the pilot. Of all the places to choose to hide--a damned asteroid field. Should be about the worst place in the galaxy to go to escape. We're in more danger in here than we would be outside. The pilot rolled his craft as he dove past an asteroid, looking up and back at the freighter. "The IRDs are coming after us!" he called. "One, Two, where are you?"

"Three hundred meters closer to the base, Six," A'Lerris responded. "I can't see you from here."

Halyn swore. Can't see a kriffing thing in here.

"The IRDs are in the asteroid field," the Bothan flying as Three calmly informed the group. "Here they come."

"I've lost sensors," the Twi'lek pilot in Two called.

"It's thehigh mineral concentration," Four responded. "We're in the worst part of the field. My scopes are blank for everything."

Rapidly disoriented, Hal pulled his fighter up behind a massive iron rock and waited. Time to see if I can cause trouble. If the IRDs are as blind in here as we are, maneuverability and speed is nill. Awareness is everything. He snorted. This wasn't exactly what I had planned, but maybe it's even better.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes. Blinking away the salt with tears, the pilot continued to scan the field with his eyes, looking for anything to give away a reckless IRD pilot. As if summoned by magic, a pair of IRDs drifted into view, moving slowly and methodically as they picked careful paths through the asteroids. The little fighters were considered top-of-the-line for non-Imperial craft. Armed with a pair of Borstel laser cannons, a SoroSuub UR-8 engine, the little fighters were hardly more than the bulbous cockpit, two wings, and a vertical stabilizer foil. Fast, maneuverable, and fragile, the little fighters were expensive and usually fielded by governments, like the Corporate Sector Authority, against the very pirates using them.

The Zabrak ruddered to port, never taking his eyes off his targets as he gauged their probably course. Should be within...two hundred meters. Blasters should take him down in one good burst at that range.

The pair of IRDs continued to slowly work through the dense field. Although the Zabrak could not see the other Z-95s, either by scope or by visual, he knew they all had to be moving at low speeds--no sane pilot could take the worst part of the field at high speeds. Hell, they probably call this part of the field unnavigatable. This may be the first time anyone's flown in here and survived. He reconsidered. Well, I guess we haven't survived yet.

The pair of IRDs vanished behind a massive rock. Halyn dropped his targeting reticle over the spot he thought the two pilots would emerge, took a breath, counted to two, and squeezed the trigger.

He was rewarded by the sight of an IRD emerging from behind the rock into his line of fire and immediately vanishing in a puff of fire. Holding down the trigger, and pulling back slightly on the stick, he fully expected the next IRD to emerge high into his blasterfire again. Instead, the second fighter came out low and moving much faster than his wingman.

The Zabrak swore and rammed his throttle forward. Two more IRDs emerged directly in front of him. Eyes wide and cursing fluently in six languages, he barely avoided a collision by sliding between them.

"Hey!" Snout shouted over the comm. "How dare you call..."

"Can it!" A'Lerris shouted, overriding the Rodian. "Take them!"

All four security pilots from One Flightemerged from behind asteroids, firing wildly. The trailing IRD took several hits and vaporized. The lead IRD panicked and rolled to starboard...straight into unforgiving rock.

"Where's that last pirate?" Hal asked.

"He's running," Ki'er reported. "Think we scared him off."

Halyn felt pain his his wrist, then realized he was clenching the control stick. Forcing himself to release it, he found his hand trembling. All for a kriffing load of fuel. Sithspawn!

The pilot continued to shake as he followed the other four pilots back to the Nalera mining station, barely registering the commentary from the other pilots.

"...saw you were lost, so we figured we'd better stop and try a trap..."

"...deflection shot. First one I've landed in a while! I thought..."

"...that IRD run? You'd think..."

"...believe it worked. I thought..."

"...is unloading its fuel now. Crazy, isn't..."

"...Six? Six, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," Halyn said, snapping out of his reveire. "Sorry."

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

Sabre Six to Sabre Five. <3. Six out.

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

100% Rebel
4
Life

"I'm just a simple man trying to find my way in the universe"

"So for me, for my mother, my grandmother, my father, my uncle and for the common good, I must now kill you"

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 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

100% Rebel
4
Life

"I'm just a simple man trying to find my way in the universe"

"So for me, for my mother, my grandmother, my father, my uncle and for the common good, I must now kill you"

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

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

Woah ... everyone needs to chill - that's an order

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