---M-Wing Testing---
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Marshal waited as his pilot slowly landed his star yacht into Testing Installation 87B-78D, where the testing of the new starfighter would be done. As the yacht pressurized, Marshal cracked his hard skeletal fingers and picked up his datapad, which lay on a near-by magnetic table.

With a small hiss the ramp slid down, and the Givin with a human name walked down towards his welcoming party. “Hello gentleman. I am Marshal Flittman, owner of Flittman Industries,” Marshal bowed slightly, and then stood straight, hands clasped behind his back.

A man dressed in blue coveralls stepped foreword and offered his hand. “Mr. Flittman, I am Director Charles Frospher, Head of the M-Wing Re-Design Project. This is my design team,” he explained, and then pointed to the rest of the humans standing behind him. “Now, if you’ll follow me we can begin the testing.”

“Of course,” The Givin nodded and followed the designers through the halls towards the Environment Synthesizer, “How did we come in contact with the designs for this fighter?”

“Ah, a Union Contact retrieved them during an assault on a pirate base, and they eventually made their way to Fegal, who in turn assigned us with its re-design,” Director Frospher explained, and they turned into a long hall with signs of battle damage and old ferrocrete. “This facility used to be military barracks during the Clone Wars, and were attacked by the Droid Armies of the Separatists. The Environment Synthesizer used to be the training grounds. This way, please.”

They all walked through a pair of sliding doors, and a security checkpoint before the entered the Testing Control Room. Computers and scanners filled the room, and a large control board in front of a huge window. Past the window on the floor of the testing grounds sat a starfighter that was strangely shaped. It consisted of a large fuelselage with a cockpit on the top and bottom, and two vertical wings on the back, one shooting up and the other jutting down. On each wing was a laser cannon, and behind the wings were the ion engines and a proton bomb launcher. On the nose of the fighter was a dedicated anti-vehicle blaster cannon, and slung on the side of each wing was a standard rocket pod.

“Would you like to look at the fighter before we begin testing?” the director offered Marshal.

“Of course,” Marshal nodded, and they walked to a turbolift in the side of the room and in seconds were on the floor of the training center. They quickly walked to the fighter where two men, an Iktotchi and a Corellian stood chatting with each other. Both were dressed in simple grey-hued flight suits and had helmets in their hands.

“Mr. Flittman, this is Captain Lucifer and Captain Huel. These are some of the best fighter pilots we had available for test piloting this jet. Captain Lucifer specializes in Ground-Air Special Ops while Captain Huel is plain pilot,” Director Frospher introduced the pilots to Marshal.

“I’ll be looking foreword to what you men can do with her,” Marshal nodded and saluted each pilot.

“Well, let’s get back to the Control Tower so that we can start testing,” the director said, and they started back for the turbolift…

“Pilot One to Control, we have lift-off,” Lucifer explained, and began to accelerate around the large Environment Simulator, “Now beginning friction test A.”

Marshal watched the pilot accelerate through the air as his datapad recorded it, and every once in a while jotted down a few notes. “Director, inform them that the friction withstands enough heat and that they can continue onto the nest test.”

“Yes, sir,” the human nodded and turned on the comlink, “Control to Pilot One, Friction Test A is complete, move onto… Combat Effectiveness A.”

“Roger that, Control,” Lucifer said into his comm., and lit a maneuvering jet, spinning the starfighter around to face a group of ancient Droid Tri-Fighters, remote controlled Delta-7 Starfighters, and a few old model T-65 X-Wings.

Huel began to spray anti-vehicular laser fire at the fighters, most of which sparked uselessly against the shields, but caused distractions.

“Pilot One, Fox Two!” Lucifer cried, sending an Anti-Air Rocket on a collision course with a T-65, and then releasing a deadly halo of heavy laser fire around it.

A Tri-Fighter spun around and let loose with its laser cannons and anti-air chain gun, but ran head-first into a laser blast which ripped one of its three arms off, and the fighter spun madly as it plummeted to the ground to explode in a wild display of fire and lightning.

“Combat Effectiveness Test A: Complete,” Lucifer nodded, bringing the fighter around to a halt with its bounce-back repulsors, allowing it to effectively hover above the ground.

“Good. Continue on to Test B,” the Director ordered, and Lucifer landed the M-Wing prototype as droids and engineers switched out power units and exchanged rockets and put in new blaster gas. While this was being completed, droid scavenger units recovered the remains of the slagged starfighters the M-Wing had laid waste to.

“Alright, Control, we have lift-off,” Lucifer nodded, and then agate opened and an old AAT Repulsortank, two AT-STs, and AT-AA lumbered out into different positions.

Lucifer got a target lock on an AT-ST, and loosed a pair of anti-vehicle rockets, which turned the AT-ST into molten slag with legs. Alarms began to beep as the AT-AA fired an Anti-Air Concussion Missile, and Lucifer madly dodged and juked but to no avail, the missile had a lock on his engine heat.

“Prepare to drop a tank buster!” Lucifer cried, and dived towards the ground at full speed. Huel accurately lined up his shots on the Proton Bomb launcher’s targeting screen, and then waited patiently. “Now!” Lucifer ordered, pulling up, and Huel dropped to bomb into the dirt, causing a huge explosion, and the missile switched targets and spun into the mushroom cloud and disappeared, followed by another explosion.

As Lucifer focused on dodging the blaster energy and magnetic concussion grenades, Huel painted the AT-ST with his anti-vehicle blaster, and finally the walker stopped moving and exploded as the laser scored a hit on its energy cells and blaster gas.

Lucifer expertly piloted the fighter towards the AT-AA, where he picked up another missile. This time he flew at max speed a little above the walker, and as the walker’s missile pod went to a more vertical angle to track the M-Wing as it flew over the missile smashed right into the launcher, exploding all them missiles and the walker itself.

As he aimed the fighter’s nose towards the AAT, Huel armed a tank buster. As the guns tried to track the fighter Huel dropped the two Proton Torpedoes, which were specially created to do maximum damage to tanks and other mobile artillery. The tank buster bombs hit the repulsortank’s armor and exploded, breaching the old tank’s hull…

Marshal rubbed his eyes and looked at his chrono. It had been seven hours. HE yawned and watched the M-Wing run a Space-To-Surface Drop Sim, and then looked at the director.

“This is the last one,” the human said, and then turned to his comlink. “Control to Pilot One. Commence Bounceback deployment.”

“Roger that,” Lucifer nodded and then waited as the simulator brought out a piece of an enemy base, complete with surface defenses, droid troops, and walls and buildings. With a nod he fired his engines and let loose a salvo of laser bolts, destroying an anti-air laser turret. “Now Commencing Troop Deployment!”

As he fired the bounceback system, Huel let loose a storm of covering fire with the guns. With a flip of a switch the lower cockpit slid open, and Lucifer grabbed a high-tension cable and jumped down, firing madly with his E-11 Blaster Carbine. Once he had gotten to the ground, Huel hauled the cable back up and closed the lower canopy, and then began to fly sorties over the enemy base using his bombs, rockets, heavy lasers, and anti-infantry lasers.
“That works great…” Marshal nodded, astonished, and cracked his exo-skeloton-like hands.

“So, you are giving it your support?” the Director asked.

“Yes,” Marshal nodded, and handed the man his datapad, “Those are all of my notes, and if Fegal Corporation needs more manufacturing centers, I could build a line at Fort North.”

With that the Givin walked from the room, contemplating what move he should make next with his own company.


-END