"See you in the hangar bay in an hour," Hublin said. "Bring five more pilots. And don’t choose idiots, please.”
“Yes, sir,” Solo said, his voice a soft snarl.
#
“Gaab,” Porkins said, “don’t you get it? Look, you take the cards, and match them up so that you…”
“I grow tired of this game,” Gaab said, wincing at the thought of looking foolish at the Sabaac table for a third hand in a row.
“Look,” Porkins said, “do you ever want any pocket money at all? Then you’re gonna have to learn to play this game. Those creeps from Two Flight’ll be back from their maneuvers soon enough. And when they do, I want any of us to be able to break the bank on any one of them.”
Gaab looked at Porkins, then at the other three members of their flight at the table. He sighed, and then motioned for Porkins to deal out another hand of cards.
“I knew I could count on you,” Porkins said with a smile. “Okay, guys. The thing to remember is that…”
“Attention, attention,” said the public address system. No one paid attention. The voice had become familiar to all of them by now- it was the voice of the announcer for the news network of the Empire. Some doubted she was even human, more likely a computer generated image and voice that constantly illustrated the latest Empire victory, the latest benevolent action of the Emperor, or, lately, the most recent atrocity of the various, ragtag groups of rebels skulking about the galaxy, causing trouble.
“Rebel activity and collaboration cause destructive battle on Laudus IV.”
“What?’ barked Gaab, ignoring the card and turning to face the monitor set above the bar. “What was that?”
“The small outpost world,” continued the announcer, “gave aid and comfort to a group of rebel terrorists, on the run from Imperial authorities after they brutally slaughtered a convoy of troopers on the way to pacify another uprising elsewhere in the system.
“The inhabitants of the outpost station on Laudus IV were given every opportunity to surrender the terrorists without consequence. Reportedly, they refused, instead firing on Empire with ineffective hand weapons. Reports indicate that they held their own children hostage in an effort to make the Empire give up the chase, releasing the younglings into the cold vacuum of space one by one until the commander of the pursuing forces ordered a daring commando raid which managed to liberate the surviving younglings, execute the terrorists and eliminate the collaborators in an efficient sweep. An Imperial garrison has been stationed near the ruins of the outpost, whose purpose shall be the hunting down and eliminating of any surviving collaborators.”
Gaab’s jaw twitched.
“What’s wrong, Gaab? Did you know anyone from there? What was it called again?”
“Laudus. Laudus Four,” Gab said quietly. His eyes seemed to be staring at something many, many miles away.
“Yeah, shame what happened there,” said one of the other cadets at the table, a green-eyed fellow named S’vip. “Some outpost station in orbit around the place tried sheltering the rebs, and now they get all upset when the Empire gets after ‘em for it. But, those are the rebels, Gaab. You gotta shoot them before they start talking to you, otherwise they hypnotize you or something. I heard they sometime’s’ll get pretty girls to-“
“Shut up!” Gaab said. “My…they’re…”
“Attention, Attention,” said a new voice. This was the local computer, and everyone listened. “The following members of Four Flight will report to Hangar Bay One in full flight gear: Cadets Porkins, Gaab, Svip, Telar and Gund. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Cadets Porkins, Gaab, S’vip, Telar and Gund of Four Flight report to Hangar Bay One in full gear.”
Porkins looked at the other cadets at the table. “You know what this means, guys? We’re going on a mission! The real thing! And before any of those snobs on One Flight to boot! Yahoo! Let’s go kick some rebel tosh!”
The four of them left the table, whooping it up as they ran down the hall from the cantina towards the lockers. Gaab sat for a full minute, looking at the monitor as it switched away from its last news item and began talking about a fashion show on Coruscant. After a few more seconds, a hard look passed over his face. He stood, and walked slowly like a man in a dream, following the same path that the other boys had followed.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
#
How many times have I seen this? Dav thought to himself. In holovid shows he’d watched as a yongling, the heroes would charge down a dimly lit hallway towards their ships with their black fighter pilot helmets in their hands, wearing black body-glove airtight suits with the life-support chestplates winking in the dim light, alarm sirens sounding in the hallways, calling the warriors to their ships for battle…
Focus, Dav, he thought This wasn’t a battle. This was just an escort run. And it’d likely be a boring escort run, too. He’d heard some of the other, more experienced pilots call this a milk run, since it was as easy as taking a stroll to a nearby store for bluemilk. Dav had never had to go to the store; Mot had always ordered it through the vid or holophone, but he understood the concept.
Still, even though he was trying to focus, he couldn't help but wonder at just how much he and his life had changed in the past few months. Six months he’d been away from home, now. Before, he’d only had overnighters at friend’s apartments, and a couple of weeks at season-long rec camps. Now, he’d spent three months learning to be a stormtrooper, shooting and being shot at, getting used to being screamed, swore at in multiple languages, and even being struck and beaten occasionally when he’d failed to perform to standard.
Now, though life was better as a pilot, he knew that this better life depended upon him maintaining a certain level of performance. Before, being careless might mean a lowered grade, or at worst being grounded from social events. Here, being careless could mean death. Yours or someone else’s.
So now, Dav led his team. His team, down the hall towards the hangar.
“Did you hear,” Jada said, as she matched his pace, “pilots used to stencil their nicknames onto their helmets. Think they’ll let us do that after this?”
“Doubt it,” Dav said. “The Empire’s getting more and more into teamwork these days, and something like that tends to make someone think they’re a little too important. Besides, you’re from Tatooine. Do you even know how to spell ‘Sandflea?’
Jada gave Dav an ungentle elbow in the ribs. Slak pulled up beside Dav’s left. “Still, if we do this right, we’ll probably have more missions together after this. That’s why we’re here, after all. We’d better come up with a catchy name, like they do on holoshows.”
“A catchy name? For who, like what?” Dav asked.
“Something with the name of the team leader in it, and an alliterative, descriptive word that gives the rest of the team confidence!” Norrin said, now increasing his own pace and pulling up beside Slak. “Like, we could be ‘Dav’s Destroyers,’ or ‘Eccles’ Eradicators! We need a cool name to make our team feared and respected throughout the Empire!”
“The deeds make the name, Norrin. Not the other way around,” said Bondo from behind them. His shoulders were far too wide to walk beside them, but he was tall enough that he could look over all of their heads.
“We’re the 180th Black Sword Squadron, Four Flight,” Bondo said. “If we do well and don’t do anything wrong, everyone will know. And we’ll know. That’s all that matters.”
“Makes sense, Bondo,” Dav said. “Besides, I can’t see how this could go wrong.”
#
An hour later, ten cadets from Four Flight were lined up in two neat rows in front of Hublin and Solo.
“I will lead Flight Senior Eccles’ team,” Hublin said. “They will be designated Aurek wing. Solo will lead Cadet Porkins’ team. They will be Besh wing. This will be a simple escort run, but recall that there is nothing so simple that it cannot be fouled up beyond all recognition or belief. Is there anyone here who does not understand their responsibilities and duties?”
Everyone was silent. Gaab sniffled a little, but no one paid attention.
“Right, then,” Hublin said. “Get to your fighters. We’ve had enough of a delay, and it’s time we rendezvoused with the station. Eccles, Porkins, get your team’s preflight checks done within the next ten minutes, and you’ll begin getting launched once you hit green. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” both Eccles and Porkins yelled.
“Aurek and Besh wing, dismissed!”
They turned on their heel, snapped their feet, took three stops in unison and broke into a run towards the scaffoldings next to the twelve fighters set up near the docking bay.
“Know what you’re doing Dav?” Slak asked as he jogged beside him.
“Nope,” Dav said, “not a clue.”
“That makes ten of us. Let’s go fly these boats.”
_____
TO BE CONTINUED...