Turbine Station, Yavin
“Red Five, you are clear to launch,” droned the man, “happy hunting.”
“Affirmative Control,” replied Flight Officer Zarric, thumbing his comlink to reply.
He tapped the headset comm. again, disconnecting from the Flight Control frequency of the turbine station. Pulling the visor over his eyes, Zarric rechecked his pre-flight once again. I don’t need something to go wrong on this ship’s maiden flight. He tapped a button on his console of his Kalrechi. The massive hangar doors in front of his craft grinded open with a deafening thud. Zarric caught a glance of Yavin’s turbulent atmosphere. Orche gases spilled in from the stormy atmosphere into the hangar of the reconstructed Achtnak Turbine Station.
Zarric took a deep breath, goosing his Kalrechi Heavy Fighter onto its repulsorlifts. The starfighter soared over the dull metal deck into the violent atmosphere. Gale-class winds buffeted the atmospherically fluid craft, bumping and tossing the craft in a multitude of directions. Zarric seized hold of the rudimentary joy stick, goosing the craft up towards space. The Rebel pilot pushed the throttle to the max. The ship’s two massive engines slowly accelerated to its top speed; on par with a Skipray Blastboat. What this lacks in speed and maneuverability, it makes up for in durability and firepower. Supposedly. Now we actually get to see if this works right. It had better. The fighter sturdily plowed through the gas giant’s atmosphere to vast darkness of outer space. His comlink crackled.
“Red Five,” questioned Control, “Engineering wants a preliminary report on how the fuselage held.”
Zarric silently sighed. “It’s held up fine. A little shaky, but given that this is Yavin we’re talking about here, it’s very good…I think. I’ll be able to give a fuller report once the trials have been completed.”
“Very good Five. We’re transmitting the coordinates of the makeshift targeting course.”
A red diode on his flight console incessantly blinked. Zarric tapped a button, sending a stream of data sprawling across the built-in flatscreen monitor that had once been part of a professional’s datapad. Following the directions, he nudged his stick down and to the left. The Kalrechi veered off towards verdant Yavin IV. He spotted a glint of light in the distance. That would be it. Zarric’s right hand twisted the stick, rolling his starfighter towards the where he had spotted the glint of light. He glanced at the specks on his sensor screen. Very small sensor reading. So they’re probably not powered at all…debris…again. Many Alliance fighter pilots trained by destroying debris, often the week’s refuse of the turbine base. Not only was it a cheap target, but it also disposed of the trash. The Kalrechi’s visual scanners zoomed in on the debris. Zarric raised an eyebrow. Interesting. His right thumb hovered over the firing button.
“Control, what are we testing first?”
“Nothing fancy, try the guns.”
“Acknowledged.”
He pressed the button. A quartet of yellow streaks surged forward from the fuselage. The first of bursts overshot a floating barrel. He adjusted his aim according and was rewarded by a bright flare as the container exploded from the combined kinetic and electrical energies of the bullets. His comm crackled.
“Good. Let’s try one of the missiles now,” ordered Control.
Zarric pushed the left pedal, kicking his Kalrechi into a slow arc around the debris field. He toggled the weapons, switching over to the fighter’s suite of four missiles. The cyan HUD box turned red around one of the barrels. He tapped the firing button. A missile dropped out of the one of the fighter’s ordinance bays before accelerating to nearly twice the Kalrechi’s speed. It slammed into the barrel, consuming it in a violent fireball.
“That checks out all right, Red Five. One more to go. The bombing bay.”
“Yes sir.”
The Flight Officer looped the ship around the debris field one more time. Like before, he lined up one of the targets within the HUD and toggled the weapons. The Kalrechi surged forward towards the barrel. Several hundred meters away, he tapped the button and shifted all energy into the twin engines. As the fighter raced away from the debris field, the bomb detonated; engulfing the area in a brief, but frenzied, conflagration. He checked his scanners. Nothing left. Must have incinerated it all up. At least there won’t be anything for the Imps to find.
“Red Five, your run is over. Head back to base. The engineers have some questions for you.”
“Red Five, you are clear to launch,” droned the man, “happy hunting.”
“Affirmative Control,” replied Flight Officer Zarric, thumbing his comlink to reply.
He tapped the headset comm. again, disconnecting from the Flight Control frequency of the turbine station. Pulling the visor over his eyes, Zarric rechecked his pre-flight once again. I don’t need something to go wrong on this ship’s maiden flight. He tapped a button on his console of his Kalrechi. The massive hangar doors in front of his craft grinded open with a deafening thud. Zarric caught a glance of Yavin’s turbulent atmosphere. Orche gases spilled in from the stormy atmosphere into the hangar of the reconstructed Achtnak Turbine Station.
Zarric took a deep breath, goosing his Kalrechi Heavy Fighter onto its repulsorlifts. The starfighter soared over the dull metal deck into the violent atmosphere. Gale-class winds buffeted the atmospherically fluid craft, bumping and tossing the craft in a multitude of directions. Zarric seized hold of the rudimentary joy stick, goosing the craft up towards space. The Rebel pilot pushed the throttle to the max. The ship’s two massive engines slowly accelerated to its top speed; on par with a Skipray Blastboat. What this lacks in speed and maneuverability, it makes up for in durability and firepower. Supposedly. Now we actually get to see if this works right. It had better. The fighter sturdily plowed through the gas giant’s atmosphere to vast darkness of outer space. His comlink crackled.
“Red Five,” questioned Control, “Engineering wants a preliminary report on how the fuselage held.”
Zarric silently sighed. “It’s held up fine. A little shaky, but given that this is Yavin we’re talking about here, it’s very good…I think. I’ll be able to give a fuller report once the trials have been completed.”
“Very good Five. We’re transmitting the coordinates of the makeshift targeting course.”
A red diode on his flight console incessantly blinked. Zarric tapped a button, sending a stream of data sprawling across the built-in flatscreen monitor that had once been part of a professional’s datapad. Following the directions, he nudged his stick down and to the left. The Kalrechi veered off towards verdant Yavin IV. He spotted a glint of light in the distance. That would be it. Zarric’s right hand twisted the stick, rolling his starfighter towards the where he had spotted the glint of light. He glanced at the specks on his sensor screen. Very small sensor reading. So they’re probably not powered at all…debris…again. Many Alliance fighter pilots trained by destroying debris, often the week’s refuse of the turbine base. Not only was it a cheap target, but it also disposed of the trash. The Kalrechi’s visual scanners zoomed in on the debris. Zarric raised an eyebrow. Interesting. His right thumb hovered over the firing button.
“Control, what are we testing first?”
“Nothing fancy, try the guns.”
“Acknowledged.”
He pressed the button. A quartet of yellow streaks surged forward from the fuselage. The first of bursts overshot a floating barrel. He adjusted his aim according and was rewarded by a bright flare as the container exploded from the combined kinetic and electrical energies of the bullets. His comm crackled.
“Good. Let’s try one of the missiles now,” ordered Control.
Zarric pushed the left pedal, kicking his Kalrechi into a slow arc around the debris field. He toggled the weapons, switching over to the fighter’s suite of four missiles. The cyan HUD box turned red around one of the barrels. He tapped the firing button. A missile dropped out of the one of the fighter’s ordinance bays before accelerating to nearly twice the Kalrechi’s speed. It slammed into the barrel, consuming it in a violent fireball.
“That checks out all right, Red Five. One more to go. The bombing bay.”
“Yes sir.”
The Flight Officer looped the ship around the debris field one more time. Like before, he lined up one of the targets within the HUD and toggled the weapons. The Kalrechi surged forward towards the barrel. Several hundred meters away, he tapped the button and shifted all energy into the twin engines. As the fighter raced away from the debris field, the bomb detonated; engulfing the area in a brief, but frenzied, conflagration. He checked his scanners. Nothing left. Must have incinerated it all up. At least there won’t be anything for the Imps to find.
“Red Five, your run is over. Head back to base. The engineers have some questions for you.”