Outer Sectors Chapter Twelve: And In Their Final Hour....

[Mike Mar]

2 ~ Jansen
------------

Gimel Squadron was on the launching bay deck. They had a good brefing from Admiral Fel in person. This was a rare previledge. It would be a tough fight and some of us would certainly die today.

Stark was now doing is own brefing , he seemed a bit tense. He probably knew more stuff then he was alowed to say. It didn't matter. Gimel was a good squadron , an experienced one.


"Ok guys. Time to do what we do best. We are equipped with Heavy Rockets. Don't be too close of the blasts or you'll be blown to dust. There is three platforms to be destoyed."

"Only approx. 1 klick beetween them." Said Tornado.

"1 klick! Wow." That came from Vik.


"Everybody to his bomber. It's time to go. May the Force be with you all...." Stark was cold as ice.

[Carrest]

3 ~ Jansen
------------

As Carrest eased his scarred TIE Interceptor into the docking bay, the laser scoring across the solar panels and the pilot's orb became acutely apparent to all within visual range. Rather than dock with a cradle, Carrest simply set the damaged TIE down in a clear section of the bay.

Several techs were running up to his craft as he hopped down. His face was grim as he removed his flight helmet. One of the techs who'd made his way up into the cockpit was leaning over the edge of the hatch.

"Sir! Your targeting displays are slag!"

Carrest didn't look up. Instead, he began removing his gloves as he spoke. "I needed a challenge..." He glanced around, looking for other returned craft. All of Epsilon. Good. Carrest turned to a supervisory technician.

"How'd Gimel fare?" Carrest began to look more and more ragged.

"I don't know, sir. My crew has just come on-duty and I don't oversee their hangar."

"Hmm...thanks." Carrest began to head towards the exit to the bay. As he walked, he lost himself in thought, one particular event playing out in his mind.

He could see it all again, as if he was back in the seat of his Interceptor. The corvette; the waves of TIE Bombers and their unholy salvo of torpedoes being launched. He saw the lead group break off and the second wave settle in for the lock on the corvette. He was the trio of X-wings coming in high above the bombers' plane. He saw himself as he calmly switched to his own warheads, locking on the the lead pirate, and watching as the pirate exploded. He watched as the remaining two break off, how one was chased down by another of Epsilon's pilots and eliminated, and how he had followed the third. The X-wing did not make it easy, jinking and looping; the pilot knew what he was doing. Again the klaxons went off in his head as his shields were assulted by the guns on the corvette, his pursuit of the X-wing having taken him to clost to the capital-class ship. He watched as his hands deftly went into evasive maneuvers to evade the turret fire, glancing over the HUD to find his previous target, and finding that starfighter. He saw once more himself looking out into space as the second wave of Gimels breaking away after their attack run; and he relived the abstract mishmash of horror, failure, and anger as he saw his quarry blast through the last TIE Bomber to break off his course. After that he saw himself lay onto the throttle and blast through the X-wing, flying straight through the debris cloud. The shudder of his TIE striking some piece of that debris and the ensuing crackle and hiss of his targeting systems being destroyed was also just as real as they had been teh first time.

And then he was back again, standing just feet from the blast door that led out of the hangar. He rubbed his face as all the energy drained from him.

"...all my fault..." he muttered as the door slid down behind him.