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 Today the POV-Theater features: |
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Today the POV-Theater features: |
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Of course, Iceman thought, he couldn't remember the last time anything had gone according to plan.
"Two, Eight. Looks clear to me," Ladyfox said over the comm-link, the static background intensifying the faint hiss of her Selonian accent. "All right to proceed?"
"Yeah, just keep an eye out," Iceman agreed, surveying the scene before him - planets to one side, a cloud of asteroids to the other, and a space just clear enough for navigation in between. Since Ibero's flight had run into an Imperial patrol less than two days ago, their course had been complete chaos, and the Joan d'Arc's navigation officer was threatening to resign over the constant changes of course. Foxfire had had the squadron flying forward patrols every second they were in realspace, and the pace was beginning to tell on all the pilots. They had flown through every meteorite cluster from the Imperial Frontier to this place, trying to find any trace of Admiral Garil's ships without being discovered themselves. Considering they were heading more or less directly toward the heart of the Empire, their objective of finding Garil without being found by the Imperials was so close to the definition of "impossible" that Iceman thought it should be included in the Basic dictionary as an example.
"Let's spread out and get this done with," Iceman said. "I want to get home before Granite gets off shift and into the Bomb Shelter."
"Do you think that Foxfire forgot to lock up the Caldanian whiskey again?" Ladyfox teased. Her A-wing trailed away in a wide arc that would let her sweep the area for Imperial ships while Iceman concentrated on their objective. It should be a simple mission, but there were dozens of things that could go wrong, this deep in Imperial territory. The mission's not over until your feet hit the deck, he reminded himself.
A far-off flicker of pseudomotion caught his attention, and his eyes widened. For anything to be visible at that distance, it had to be big and moving *fast*.
Iceman flipped his comm-link on. "Ladyfox, get to cover, shut down everything you can, and DON'T MOVE." He heard a terse double-click of the mike in acknowledgment, and saw the Selonian's A-wing accelerate away. Iceman dove for the dubious safety of the asteroids, keeping a wary eye on the growing shapes behind him. If they got within sensor range before they got to cover... He cut speed sharply as he reached the fringes of the asteroid field, sliding around a large, slow rock that loomed in her path. Just a trickle of engine power to keep him in the asteroid's sensor shadow, no communications, no weapons, minimal life support...Iceman's hand flicked over the console, shutting down everything he dared.
As the last light on his console winked out, the Imperial convoy thundered into range of his passive sensors. Several Corvettes and Escort Carriers, a scattering of Gunboats and T/As, a flight of Interceptors falling into escort formation as he watched...and two Frigates, no less, the Avenger and the Ultimatum. At this rate, he was half expecting the FRG Overkill, Iceman thought with a grin. Then he took another look at the composition of the convoy, and the grin changed to something slightly more feral. Big, fast, and armed for bantha, but that loose formation and haphazard entry suggested something thrown together at a moment's notice. About the reaction you'd get with an enemy Frigate marauding through your back yard, in fact.
"Bet they're after the same guy we are," he said softly to himself. If that convoy was a response to another of Garil's attacks, they knew where he'd been much more recently than White. But a little ingenuity could fix that.
Shivering a little in the cooling air, he settled in to wait on the convoy, hoping Ladyfox was well out of harm's way. Being separated from a wing-mate grated on his nerves, but for now both their safety depended on radio silence. He watched as the squadron of Interceptors spread out, inspected the area, and hurried back into sloppy formation, glad that the better-trained units were kept out near the Rim. The Knights or even Omega would've found us by now, he thought, and then I'd have one seriously charred A-wing...
After too many long minutes, the convoy began to accelerate for hyperspace. I thought they would never leave... Iceman carefully eased his fighter away from the shelter of the asteroid. The first thing he activated again was the heating system. Half an hour more and I would be more Iceman than ever before. I promise never to laugh again when Moose starts talking about orbiting Yavin in a disabled B-Wing for five hours. "Eight, Four. Vanessa, you still out there?"
"I'm here and I'm cold and I'm bored," the Selonian growled back. "What was that all about?"
"Imps after somebody's blood, probably the same guy we're trying to pull out of the fire."
"So we have to fight them off before we can get to the Admiral?" Ladyfox was unimpressed.
"No, hopefully we'll beat them to the Admiral." Iceman smiled. He wondered what was needed to scare the Selonian.
"What about the nav buoy?" Ladyfox asked. "We should destroy it as we've been ordered before to return."
"The nav buoy? Ah, yes..." Something had crossed through his mind when Ladyfox mentioned the nav buoy. Of course. "Wait a minute, Vanessa. I think we're gonna have to stay here a while longer - there's been a slight change of plans."
"Wonderful. Now I see there is no difference between
flying with you or with Foxfire. There is aaaaaalways a slight change of
plans..."
Iceman sat up straighter and pulled out of his holding pattern, reflexively arming his lasers at about the same time he noticed the colour of the new dot on his screens. He'd noticed Ladyfox doing the same thing - it might be quiet out here, but at this point that only served to make both pilots more nervous.
"White Four, this is Anubis, now what did you go dragging us out of bed for?"
Iceman grinned, recognizing the teasing note in the shuttle pilot's voice. "A nav buoy, Barris, we're stealing it."
The silence over the comm-link was educational in its own way, and Iceman choked back a laugh. It wasn't his fault that he had to keep long-distance transmissions (and explanations) down to a minimum, really it wasn't. "You want us to pick up a nav buoy," Barris said finally.
"Right."
"In a shuttle."
"Right."
"A nav buoy?"
"Right."
"Whatever you say," Barris said, on the end of a long-suffering sigh. "But this isn't in my job description - I want at least a keg of Blue Stuff for this."
"Wait till we get home, it's cheaper out on the Rim."
No stranger to dangerous situations, Barris had been heading steadily for the nav buoy ever since learning what his objective was; Ladyfox had been flying close escort while Iceman kept an eye out for trouble. Not that there was much they could do if it came - the Anubis was far too bulky for the duck- and-cover trick that the two pilots had used earlier.
Foxfire is going to love this. He thought
with a smile.
"Thanks, Avery." Iceman replied. "I imagined that you would say that."
"Really?" Foxfire winked at him. " Good imagine
- now try to imagine what our Captain is going to say."
"I love it," was what Captain Orris had said for Foxfire's surprise and amazement. I never thought he might say something like that, it's completely out of his style! Foxfire walked cautiously through the main Engineering doors, wincing at the loud crash and louder curse from inside. "You know what it is," someone was proclaiming, "they're just trying to drive us crazy so we won't notice when the coffee runs out."
She suppressed a snicker and stepped carefully inside, picking her way through the maze of tools and spare parts that littered the floor. "Kostolitz, I swear you'd go looking for a coffeemaker in the Imperial Palace itself.
The chief tech on duty, a tall, lanky man with a slightly unfocused look, shrugged and smiled at her over his shoulder. "The way we're going, we may get a chance. I can't imagine you're after that buoy's logs just to find out where the best shopping is."
"Not till my next leave," Foxfire shot back, maneuvering Kostolitz a little away from the rest of the engineering crewmen. The senior tech would know what and how much to tell the rest, but Foxfire didn't really want to discuss the mission plan with a roomful of techs. "I'm not even sure this will work, but out on recon two of my pilots ran into - well, more like got run over by - an Imperial convoy that was after the same guy we are. If we can pull the logs out of that buoy intact, we should be able to find out what their destination was - and wherever that is, it's a lot closer to Garil than we are."
"Well, you don't have to worry too much about your logs," Kostolitz said, gesturing over to the hulk of the Imperial nav buoy, where a handful of droids were clustered around the sparking remains of the computer core. "I should have them out shortly - we had to let a couple of R5s at it after we knocked out the first set of defenses. They're not too fast, but they do good work."
"I'm sure they do." Foxfire stared enviously at the droids, wishing she could steal a few of them and put them to work looking for Garil's renegade Frigate. An A-wing's sensors were the best that could be mounted on that small a craft, but even their range was limited, and the number of pilots was even more so. Add to that the fatigue of recon pilots flying heel-to-toe shifts, and things got even worse.But there might be ways to get around that...
She glanced at the astromechs again, and reached
for her comm-link as a thought struck her. "Flight Officer Sutherland,
this is Foxfire. I need to meet with you in fifteen minutes in the usual
briefing room - and bring Ledner with you."
The corridor was dark, as it always was. Foxfire glanced over her shoulders and squeezed quickly through a crack between two cargo crates - which happened to be empty and riveted to the floor. Not much good for storage, but just the thing if you wanted to hide something. Like a bar.
Drake was already waiting for her in the Bomb Shelter, and had been there for some time, judging from the low level of liquid in his glass. His R2 droid Ledner was trundling around behind him, poking into corners with a near-continuous stream of inquisitive noises.
"Sorry I'm late, Daniel," she apologized, sitting down across from the other pilot. "I'd get you a drink, but it looks like you've already helped yourself."
Drake grinned unrepentantly. "After getting Ledner in here, I deserve it. That entrance in the crates is barely wide enough for an astromech, and the other one's even worse."
"Blame Captain Orris...if he didn't ban it, we wouldn't have to hide it. That man has no sense of humor."
"Yeah, now we have to get somebody to tell Hardrive that." Drake nodded toward the gun-camera shots that were still adorning the walls, then winced as Ledner bumped into Joker's mop and brought it down with a crash. "I should never have left that Security programming in there...he thinks it's his job to investigate everything aboard ship."
"Actually, that's what I needed to talk to you about...would you mind letting the bridge crew borrow your droid for a bit?"
"Let them what?" he asked, just before an indignant chirp from Ledner.
Foxfire shook her head. "Well - you've mentioned that he had some programs left over from your Security days, and I got the impression that some of that involved tracking routines. If we can rig an A-wing up for constant transmission to the bridge and run the information through Ledner's security programming, we might be able to get a bit closer to our runaway admiral."
"All we've got to go on right now is a radiation trail, and that's cold as carbonite right now."
"We should have more soon - we've gotten a decent lead on his position, now we just have to dodge the Imps who are also looking for him." She looked thoughtfully at the droid, who'd backed nervously away from the table and was currently wheeling toward the battered jukebox in the back corner of the bar. Then her eyes widened. "Drake, don't let him near that, I think Granite's been playing-"
There was a loud pop and a shower of sparks as Ledner whistled shrilly and wheeled backward at top speed, hastily retracting a manipulator arm. The jukebox cabinet dangled open behind him.
"-Braveheart," Foxfire finished with a sigh. "Anyway, I'd say this is the best shot we've got at staying on Garil's trail - recon flights alone can't get the job done. Think it'll work?"
"It's worth a try." Drake glanced at the droid, who was advancing on the jukebox again with a determined stance. "What do you say, Ledner?"
There was a slightly abstracted reply of beeps, hoots
and whistles, and Drake checked the translator installed in his datapad.
"I think that was a yes. But he wants to be allowed to play with the jukebox
some more."
"Move it, kid," the latter said in his usual dry bark. "Our turn for recon patrol." Teel nodded once and began to struggle into his flight suit.
As they headed towards the hangar, Daken Teel couldn't help but notice the four pips on Louyan's flight suit. He remembered, once, when he'd seen Commander Louyan in full dress uniform, how impressed he'd been. Never before had he seen so many medals and awards. The other rarely wore his full uniform, though - the last time he'd worn it was when Admiral Garil had been promoted. Apparently, the Commander and the Admiral had served together from a time when the Admiral was a naval Commander and the Commander was just a Lieutenant. Now, the former was the captain of this ship, and his long time friend was the commanding officer of Amber Squadron, the X-Wing squadron on board. Louyan was fiercely loyal to the Admiral, Teel reflected, and an old officer from the "School of Hard Knocks", but he was fair, and on occasion even likable. He smiled slightly at Teel.
"Don't worry, kid, no matter how many pips you earn, you'll always get to fly recon patrols," he said with a dry, throaty chuckle. Daken Teel smiled.
"I'm sure, sir. The difference is, when I've got four pips, I'll get paid that little bit extra to do it." At this Louyan let out a loud guffaw.
"Not that much more," he laughed. "Trust me, kid."
A few minutes later two X-wings of Amber Squadron
exited the hangar of the Trailblazer and gracefully curved around
as they streaked into the distance.
"Ledner, what do you think you're doing? You can trust Psycho - he knows what he's doing," the young man said reproachfully. The droid whistled doubtfully, and Psycho glared at it and rubbed his thigh gently. The young man shot Psycho an apologetic look.
"Look, you complained about not getting to fly - this is the next best thing," he said to the R2 unit, Ledner, in a low voice. "You're still part of the action." Ledner beeped an unenthusiastic response.
"Oh, stop being so obstinate and self-important," Drake growled. "You're not indispensable, so don't pretend you are. The onboard computer on my A-wing does just as good a job as you, anyway." At this the droid hooted and whistled shrilly and Drake shot Psycho and Ibero a triumphant, devious look.
"You don't want to do it, fine. At least move out of the way so that Ibero and Psycho can get at the Joan's computer so that it can do the job," Drake said scornfully. That did it. Ledner emitted what sounded like a reluctant low whistle, and Drake winked at his squad mates.
"Go for it," he said. "But be careful." The two pilots moved forward and Psycho turned to the younger man.
"I'll be careful all right," he growled. "And if that droid of yours ever does that again, it'll take a team of techs a week to restore him to working order again." Drake sighed and rolled his eyes.
"He won't," he assured Psycho. "Okay, I'm off to the hangar to set up my A-wing for the linkup." With that, he turned and left the bridge, leaving Ibero and Psycho to work on the interface between Ledner and the main computer of the Joan d'Arc.
"If you don't stop laughing you're going to finish
the job alone!" Drake heard Psycho shouting before the door closed.
