Mission #417

 

--- Part 1 ---

 

by

 

CMDR/COL Astix/Trapper/Wing XIX/SSD Avenger

QUA/SBM Astix/Oriens Obscurum/Arcona

 

 

            'Colonel, please come closer.' Mouse motioned at his Squadron CMDR. 'I would like you to conduct mission that requires some veteran experience.'

 

'Sounds intriguing.' Astix hid the amusement. So did Mouse but when he brought mission's details on the hologram they all turned into professionals they were.

 

'I need you to attack fighters defense screen near this Mestra's checkpoint ... I didn't exactly catch to the end what Kane had on mind so I fill you in all I know. This rusty 2000 freighter will be passing this very crowded Mestra's check point and to prevent from attacking it you need to give some work to do to Mestra's fighters... I assuming that it is carrying something that everyone wants or is very illegal and it would be recognized on first scan. You need to pop up there and watch from the distance and when freighter will appear attack to bring attention out of her for long enough for freighter to jump.'

 

'There is something fishy here.' Astix frowned.

 

'I have similar thoughts but Kane wasn't more specified due to reasons he didn't revealed. That's why I wanted you, you will know how to act and return in one piece.'

 

Astix trotted down the long corridor from the Wing briefing rooms and caught the turbolift down to the flight deck. He leant back, resting his head against the harsh durasteel walls of the lift. A gentle humming and a lurch in the pit of his stomach announced his arrival on the deck four levels below his own quarters. The doors swished open, and the colonel walked out of the small lift and out onto the flight deck.

 

Things were quiet in Trapper squadron's part of the deck, and Astix had no problem having his Cygnus Works Missile Boat made ready in double-time. Like all TIE Corps fighters, the missile boat was always kept as close to readiness as possible- fuelled, cleaned and the like. For this particular assignment Astix also requested an updated Imperial Survey datapad of the local area downloaded to his flight computer, a full load of chaff countermeasures, a jamming beam, and a full compliment of 40 Advanced Missiles and 20 Advanced Torpedoes, on the basis that the torps would be useful no matter what the opposition in the area turned out to be. Astix had been a long-time fan of the Proton Torpedo, a warhead that was both quick enough to be troublesome for the majority of fighters yet pack a big enough punch to cause crippling damage to heavy freighters and small warships. Ast grinned ruefully- if he came up against anything heavier than a Frigate he'd be looking to leave the area, torpedoes on board or not.

 

He took five minutes to do a walkabout of his ship, checking the flight surfaces, the engine exhausts, the warhead tubes and the blaster discharge points. Weaponry was the sole purpose of his craft's existence, and to have them fail on him in battle thanks to an unchecked minor detail would be paramount to a hideous crime. Satisfied that his ship was ready for whatever the local banditry might throw at him, Astix climbed the steps up into his cockpit where he settled down into the comfortable bucket seat. He smile to himself- it always surprised new pilots that the cockpits in the more advanced Imperial craft were quite so comfortable, but when thought about it made sense, really. A veteran pilot in an advanced fighter might be on patrol for close to eight fours, or possibly even more if on a recognisance mission. The last thing the Emperor's Hammer wanted was for a pilot to cramp up and to loose control of their craft mid-dogfight. It was details like these that most subtly marked the slowly changing ethos within the Empire, moving from pilot expandability to pilot pampering; making and keeping a pilot loyal by providing amply for more and more of their needs and wants.

 

 

… to be continued