Notes from the campaign: Over the last two weeks we've had more Empire players sign up (we're now at 19 total) and their current and make-up games have turned the Rebellion early lead upside down. The Empire now has a decent margin over the Rebellion, but if they try the Rebellion can still tie it up or get ahead. Next week the Empire will be making a counter-attack against the Rebel forces (fictionally), we'll see if the league results support it.
Galactic Empire - Captain Tracton Thorn
“Where’s that third flight, captain?”
Tracton growled into the comms, his anger getting the best of him again. The captain of Umbra Station had gotten complacent over the years and it was starting to show.
“Break left!” he shouted.
Tracton’s fighter and his port-side escort broke away in time, his starboard TIE Escort wasn’t so lucky.
Just seconds ago a third rebel squad had dropped in, practically on top of his own flight. It would take them a moment to get their bearings but one of their members was already gone, their wreckage now enmeshed with that of Tracton’s late escort fighter.
With two rebel squadrons outside the station, the fight had been more or less even. These Umbra Station jockeys weren’t too bad. Their CO must have kept them sharp despite the laxness of the station captain. He had thought for a moment they were even edging ahead.
But now they were outnumbered and an interesting challenge had become a fascinating exercise in mortality. And this day had been going so well.
“Captain! WHERE is that third flight?!?!”
“The hangar malfunction has been resolved.” His voice was choppy on the comms, especially when Tracton’s B-Grade fighter was under duress, which was every second.
He continued, “The pilots have been summoned.”
Tracton yelled a curse while he hammered at his firing triggers, erasing an overeager rebel A-Wing jockey from existence.
“Why weren’t they prepped and on standby? What the hell have-”
His attention faded as he noticed a single Rebel Y-Wing breaking away from its escorts in the main formation. Headed straight for a bombing run on the station’s third hangar bay.
“All units break formation. Stop that Y-Wing! Commander, raise the hangar shields now!”
Rebellion - Neela Tashi
“Wampa-Six, what are you doing?” Neela asked distractedly.
Neela Tashi’s service record was an impressive one for a rebellion fighter. She had lived through three serious engagements and two lesser skirmishes. But leading a whole squad while also flying for her life was a new challenge altogether. Her eyes danced around her - front cockpit - down to sensors and tactical - right side console for communications - then back to front and again and again.
There was no answer forthcoming from Wampa-Six, though her comm line checked out fine. Her Y-Wing had broken from her escorts. The Imperial fighters would be on her in seconds if they weren’t already. Wampa-Four chimed in-
“Six? Jakes? What are you doing?”
At last a distant sounding voice answered, “That third hangar is prepping to launch fighters. Shields are down. We can end this before it starts!”
“Disengage, Six!’ Neela urged, ‘We have the numeric advantage even if they launch. Break off, repeat, BREAK. OFF.”
“Missed your last, Flight Leader. Comms must be choppy.” Though Six’s tone made it clear the comms were anything but. Neela glanced over to her communications readout, Six’s line had gone dark. She had probably turned off her radio.
At that moment, Neela realized that Wampa-Six had to be taken care of. Either she got herself killed on this glory run or Neela would try it herself when they got out of this. Wampa Squad’s discipline already hung by a thread, such a direct threat to her authority had to be addressed.
Half snarling, Neela again implored - “Wampa Six, break off. That’s an order.”
But Wampa-Six carried on, turning to run alongside the length of the station. A smart move, it placed her ship beneath the downward arc of the station’s defensive weapons. The guns all fell silent but kept pace with Wampa Six’s flight path in an eerie vigil, if she elevated her crate more than a few feet, she’d be blasted into atoms.
But then the inevitable - two TIE Fighters had broken away from the main engagement and were headed to intercept Six before she could get around to the hangar.
Six came on the channel again, “Somebody cover me! Almost there. Jester, Azure, anybody?”
Six was broadcasting now on a wide frequency, not just the squad comm. Even the Imperial pilots were probably hearing this.
Before she could vocalize to belay that request, fate finally caught up Wampa-Six. Her crate came apart in a single volley of pale green laser fire. There was hardly any explosive reaction. She was there one instant. And then not.
The Interceptor that shot her down flew straight through the drifting wreckage, twirling around in a show of victory.
Just behind it, the very Imperial pilots that had been threatened by Six’s run had begun to launch, their fighters spewing out of the hangar like an angry swarm.
“All fighters, all fighters, Imperial reinforcements en route.”
Neela was trying to decide what orders to give when Jester-One’s voice came in over the command line-
“Azure, Wampas, break off. Repeat, break off. We’ve done our damage here. Mother Hen advises it’s about to start raining. Hard.
“Roger that, Jester.” Neela flipped a switch to toggle back to her squad line, ‘Wampas, we’re ghosts. Break off.”
Shockingly, they all signaled confirmation without complaint, which was just as well. Neela did not want to be flying in the midst of whatever was coming. Of course, she had a very bad feeling that she would be regardless.