[Solved] Episode II - CAT B - Rishi - FF - Riders on the Storm

“Exiting hyperspace in 3… 2… 1…” The lines of stars contracted as the Benevolence entered realspace. TB-D thrummed with satisfaction. They had arrived only 0.000196 seconds off from its calculations. Not perfect – it would require some internal calibration – but well within the accepted limits.

“Launch the fightersh and landing craft,” the Lannik shipmaster said.

TB-D clanked over to its console and tapped a few times. “Fighters and landing craft departing now, sir,” it informed the Captain.

Captain Freyg settled into his command chair. “Should be an eashy rotation for ush, TB-D.  Jusht need to wait for thoshe bloody piratesh to show up now.”

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Lieutenant Jaster “Moony” Sundoe steered his SoruSuub S-38 Paladin out of the Benevolence’s hangar and took up his station on the starship’s flank. Looking out, he could see the colorfully decorated frigate framed against the star-speckled panorama of space.

“Anything on the sensors, Joh?” he asked.

“Nah, nothing. Should be an easy ride down,” said Joh, sitting behind him.

Moony was a little disappointed. He had taken the assignment to escort the Freedom Fighters’ commando team mostly because he wanted to get back into the thick of things. After spending two years languishing in his role as an aide to Admiral Raner, he was itching to get back into combat. According to his briefing, things would get interesting in about a rotation, but he was restless. Ah well – at least he’d get to see what this new ship could really do.

Moony hit his comm and broadcast to his squadron, “Orange Squadron, all clear out here. Form up on me and we’ll hold the Needle’s hand down to the surface.”

If the biggest reason for accepting the position of Orange Leader was to blast Imperials and pirates out of the sky, he was sitting in the second reason: the Paladin. The sleek orange and white starfighter was one of the first of its kind, a new, next-generation fighter from SoruSuub. The two-seater was supposed to be a significant improvement on the X-Wing – but the added cost meant the Freedom Fighters couldn’t afford to buy any. Luckily, the SoruSuub Corporation had gifted a few prototypes thanks to the FF’s close ties to the planet Sullust, the home planet of the company.

Suddenly the urge to fly hit Moony. He had been at a desk for too long to simply babysit a transport. “Orange Two, you have the lead. Joh and I are going to scout around a bit.” Switching off his comlink, he glanced over his shoulder. “You ready to see what this thing can do, Joh?”

“Born ready!”

Moony jammed the accelerator forward and felt himself get pushed back into his seat. His stomach jumped into his throat and he started to get light-headed – clenching his legs, he forced the blood back into his brain.

“WOOHOO! This thing can move!” Joh yelled from the back seat.

Smiling under his mask, Moony arced away from the Benevolence around the curve of the planet below. Joh was right – the Paladin moved like nothing he had flown before. It responded to his slightest touch, and its over-large engines provided incredible acceleration. He only hoped it fought as well as it flew. He guessed he’d find out the next day.

Easing off the accelerator, Moony took a moment to scan what lay in front of him. The tropical planet Rishi lay like a jewel below them, its crystalline waters a vibrant blue, speckled by islands of luscious green. Mountains rose from the largest islands and nearly all had beautiful sand beaches. The skies were mostly clear – only a few puffy white clouds could be seen below. But far above the planet’s atmosphere…

“Uh, Moony? Are you seein’ this?” Joh asked, sounding disturbed.

Something was not right.

“Benevolence, Orange Leader – there’s something moving this way above the atmosphere,” Moony said over the comlink, trying to process what he was seeing. “It looks like… a storm.”

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“What do you mean, a shtorm? There are no shtormsh in shpaysh! It’sh a vacuum!”

Captain Freyg had gotten out of his seat and was pacing across the deck.

“Petty Offisher Bram, focush our shenshorsh on that region. I want to shee this for myshelf.”

The Mon Cala blinked his large eyes as his webbed hands flew across his console. A large hologram of the phenomenon materialized, hovering in front of the Lannik captain. It appeared to be a large stormcloud, blustering towards them. The shape was amorphous, constantly billowing in dark gray undulations.

The Captain squinted through his monocle at the bizarre image. “TB-D, have you ever heard of shomething like thish?”

TB-D cocked its head and analyzed the shape. A faint stirring of mechanical memory flittered through its circuits. TB had heard of something like this, but where? As a tactical droid, it had acquired a vast trove of information for later use. TB-D started scrolling through known weather data, planetary surveys of Rishi, and esoteric space anomalies. Perusing each subject felt like spending years in a library, poring over datapads. Finally, it clicked. The previous Nihil debacle.

0.00624 seconds. It was getting rusty in its old age. TB-D would have shaken its head, if it was prone to such organic expressions.

“Sir, this appears to match historical descriptions for Nihil raids. Their ships would travel under the cover of apparent storm clouds and use EMP weapons in the form of lightning. Recommend immediate withdrawal and maintaining a safe distance from the cloud formation.”

Captain Freyg spun on his heel and barked, “Orange Leader, get back here immediately!”

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Lieutenant Sundoe slammed the controls to one side, whipping the Paladin around in a tight turn. Lightning arced from the storm, reaching out to where they had just been. Moony hit the accelerator and he and Joh rocketed back to the Benevolence, where he could see the other ships of Orange Squadron already forming a defensive pattern around the Needle.

They raced away from the unseen enemy as lightning sliced repeatedly through space. After a few seconds, the lightning ceased – perhaps they had moved beyond the range of whatever weapon was concealed within the clouds. Moony breathed a sigh of relief and heard Joh do the same.

“Nearly got us there, didn’ they?” his navigator said.

Moony only nodded. He had wanted action – it looked like he was about to get it.

Zooming to join his wingmates, Moony maneuvered into the lead position of the formation with the Needle safely ensconced between the four Paladins. Flanked by the reassuring bulk of the Benevolence, the ships turned to face their mysterious foe.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

TB-D stood watching with the rest of the bridge crew as fighters poured from the dark gray clouds. The enhanced sensors of the Benevolence could pick them out, but not even TB-D could identify these ships. They were a collection of rusted, misshapen hulks that had clearly been modified. The irregular starfighters had odd parts added seemingly at random in some places, while other areas sported missing pieces. Overall, the effect was probably meant to be intimidating, but TB-D calculated that most of the ships had significantly reduced combat capability.

Just then, Commander Abi returned, running through the blast doors before they fully opened.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Ambush!” cried Captain Freyg. “Our intel wash wrong — they were waiting for ush.”

As a score of enemy fighters streamed toward them, Abi scowled. “Our fighta’s are out-numbered five to one. We’ll be cut to ribbons. Hardly a fai’ fight.”

But a grin crept across the grizzled captain’s face. “Hardly a fair fight indeed. TB, order the Needle to head to the shurface immediately. And have Orange-3 and 4 eshcort her.” He turned to Abi, whose jaw had dropped a little. “A bit more fair now, wouldn’t you shay?”

TB-D detected a slight uptick in the Commander’s heart rate as he responded, “Are you mad, man? You’re sendin’ those pilots to their deaths!”

Captain Freyg turned back towards the view of the onrushing fighters and adjusted his monocle. “Mad, am I? Well, yesh, I shuppose jusht a bit. But I know my pilotsh. And I’ve been in enough fightsh to learn how to shize up my opponent. And that,” he pointed his gnarled cane at the disorganized mob nearly upon them, “Ish no match for the Bennie and her bonnie shtarfightersh.”

The captain stomped over to TB-D’s control panel and personally activated the comlink. “Orange leader, thish ish Captain Freyg. Give them hell from ush. May the Forsh be with you.”

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“May the Forsh be with you.” The captain’s voice cut off and for a moment, Sundoe was surrounded by silence. He let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Thumbing his comlink, he broadcast to his squadron.

“Alright, Orange Squadron, you heard the Captain. Orange Two and I will engage the enemy fighters, while Three and Four make sure the transport gets to the surface.”

A flurry of objections came back over the comms as both pilots and flight officers of the reassigned starfighters protested.

Miva, the pilot from Orange Four, pleaded, “Sir, the Needle only needs one escort – send Orange Three, please!” She was the youngest pilot in the squadron and desperate to prove herself.

But Orange Three was not about to be left behind. “No way! Come on sir, give us a crack at ‘em!”

Moony understood their drive to fight. He had it too. And he had been young once – but the priority was the mission and that entailed making sure the transport reached the surface.

“That’s enough chatter. You have your orders. Orange Two and I will take care of this lot. If I hear one more complaint, I’ll make sure you’ll be scrubbing starfighters instead of flying them. Now get going.”

He watched out of the corner of his eye to make sure they complied, then prepared himself for the imminent battle. A nervous energy stole over him. Not fear – excitement. This is what he had longed for while sitting at a desk for the past two years. A chance to strike out against the evil he saw in the galaxy. But also an opportunity to test himself against an enemy, to prove he was the best. A fierce joy consumed him when he flew, burning to embrace the deadly dance of space combat.

“You ready, Opit?”

“Opit is ready, sir,” came the formal reply. The Tren pilot of Orange Two was another veteran of the Freedom Fighters and Moony’s greatest friend. He was the second-in-command of Orange Squadron and was almost as good a pilot as Moony. Almost.

“Just remember, the usual bet is still on. Whoever gets the most kills drinks for free tonight!”

And with that, the ravagers were upon them. Moony accelerated his starfighter and dodged between two of the marauders. Executing a tight loop, he snuck behind the fighters he had just passed and centered his sights on the closest one. He pulled the trigger on the stick and a burst of laser fire lanced through the enemy ship.

“First blood! That’s one, Opit!”

He saw a flash of orange and white and knew his wingman was chasing down another pair of Nihil. Concentrating on his own target, he carefully aimed and made his second kill.

Just then, Opit’s voice came over the comlink. “Opit has also achieved our first kill, Moony. Now we are even.”

As Moony glanced toward his friend with a grin on his face, he saw two enemy starfighters racing away from the combat – and towards the descending drop ship.

“Orange Three, Orange Four, you’ve got two bogeys on your six!” he yelled.

Trusting his pilots to do their jobs and stick to their training, he searched the battlefield for new targets. A handful of fighters harassed the Benevolent, but her shields and point-defense lasers were more than a match for the run-down Nihil starfighters. He watched as one was gunned down when it strayed too close to the Bennie. Joh pointed out a ship trying to maneuver behind Opit’s Paladin, and Moony launched after it.

“That’s a kill for Orange Three!” crowed the Duros pilot, L’ulo.

“I got one, I got one!” Miva gushed excitedly.

Moony squeezed the trigger and watched another enemy ship turn to dust in front of him. This was almost too easy. He had trained to go toe-to-toe with the best Imperial pilots in TIE fighters and interceptors. He had tangled with several Remnant fighters and corporate goons. But these Scions were undisciplined, untrained, and ill-equipped.

Less than a minute later, nearly two-thirds of the attacking ships had been destroyed. The Needle and her escort fighters were well within the atmosphere and beyond the reach of Nihil. An explosion behind his starfighter made Moony crane his neck behind him.

“Ha! That’s three for Opit. We think you will be buying drinks tonight, yes?”

Moony grinned and replied, “Nice try, Orange Two. I’m up to five now.”

“What? You cheat! Opit wants recount.”

The remaining enemy fighters suddenly pulled back and started retreating towards the flashing storm clouds.

“Benevolence, this is Orange Leader. Looks like we’ve got ‘em on the run. Not much of a fight – we’re going to follow and give ‘em a proper goodbye.”

Moony thumbed the firing selector from lasers to missiles. “Joh, you got a sensor lock on them?”

After a flurry of clicks and beeps, Joh responded. “You should have a lock right about… now.”

They both watched as a missile raced through the space separating them from the fleeing Scions, aiming for the slowest starfighter. A second later, a second missile rocketed away from Orange Two. They both caught their targets right before they entered the swirling storm. As the explosions died away, nothing but roiling clouds could be seen.

“Benevolence, we lost about six in the clouds. Our sensors can’t penetrate it, but we’ll keep a watch. Looks like we scared the rest of them away.”

Moony began to relax – he was proud of his squadron for making quick work of the enemy, but they really hadn’t presented much of a threat. Even the new kid got a kill. Just as he was about to turn back to the Bennie, Aryx – Opit’s Cerean flight officer – spoke nervously over the comlink.

“Uh, guys… I don’t think they left.”

Moony swiveled his fighter around, just in time to see the inky black prow of a much larger ship emerge from the storm. He watched as it slowly emerged, like a primordial predator, covered in spines and spikes. The ugly, dangerous-looking ship was silhouetted by the gray clouds behind it – almost completely black, with dark red lights scattered across its surface. It was a predator; a hunter of other ships, made for one singular purpose. To kill.

“Orange Two, form up on me!” Moony sprang into action, twisting his starfighter in a corkscrew as laser fire began to erupt from the Nihil destroyer. “Switch to proton torpedoes, Joh!” he called out to his back seat.

Orange Two was close behind them as they began a strafing run of the much larger ship. But their torpedoes and lasers didn’t seem to have much of an effect.

“Opit is thinking these shields are too strong, Moony! We are needing back-up!”

Moony cursed under his breath. Opit was right – they were no more than insects to this ship. Just then, a shot barely missed their starfighter, but a yelp over the comlink indicated his wingman was not so lucky.

“Opit! Are you OK back there?”

“Just scratch. But Opit’s shields are gone.”

“Get back to the Bennie! I’ll be right behind you, we can’t touch this monster.”

Moony yanked the stick around and wheeled his starfighter towards the Freedom Fighter’s frigate. Falling in behind Orange Two, he tried to stay in between his friend and the Nihil ship behind them.

“Benevolence, we’re being torn up over here! We’re heading back to the hangar – this one’s up to you.”

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The crew of the Benevolence had watched with concern as Orange Squadron struggled to fight the Nihil destroyer. When the starfighters began their retreat, Captain Freyg ordered the ship forward to engage. The two ships quickly closed the gap between them and commenced a fierce light-fight.

“Fire!” bellowed the captain, leaping on his seat in excitement and thrusting his cane at the enemy ship.

The two capital ships traded broadsides, their shields barely holding back the onslaught. TB-D watched its monitor as the shield’s strength began to slowly fade. The Benevolent was a strong ship, with upgraded shields and weapons. But she had weaknesses – the addition of the hangar cost several turbolasers on the starboard size and the old hull of the ship was made of older, weaker armor. The strength of the marauder ship began to show, as shots slipped past the frigate’s shields and blasts began to rock the bridge.

“Captain, we seem to be gettin’ the worst of it here. Anythin’ else we can be doin’?” Abi asked, his nervousness evident in his voice.

The captain glowered at the opposing ship. “Ach, I’m trying to bring her around to her better shide, but I can’t without exposhing ush. Thish monshter hash ush pinned down.”

“Time to make a run fo’ it, you think?”

TB-D watched as its captain turned towards it, a gleam in his eyes. The tactical droid had watched the conflict uncomfortably – as if there was something it should be doing, but had forgotten. But this was preposterous; droids did not forget things.

“Not yet. I’ve got one more trick up my shleeve.”

The Captain stepped down from his chair and strode determinedly towards the droid. Stretching his head as far up the droid’s body as he could, the Captain whispered into the droid’s audio-receptor. “Activate advanced shtrategy mode. Authorization code 2-9-Aurek-4-Trill-9-2-Mern.”

TB-D stood straight up, its arms locked to its sides. A wonderful sensation overwhelmed it, coursing through its circuits like fire. It felt like a fresh oil-bath – no, even better. Like it had just come fresh from the factory, no dings or corrosion or processing errors to speak of.

Distantly, TB-D heard the Captain speaking to the Commander. “You know, of coursh, that TB is old Sheparatisht droid. Well, itsh programming wash a bit too… bloodthirshty for the Freedom Fightersh. I had to modify itsh pershonality a bit to get it to calm down. Unfortunately, my tampering affected itsh shtrategic abilitiesh. Sho I made sure to put in a back door, in cashe I ever needed it.”

TB blinked – that is, its photo-receptor rapidly closed and opened again – and suddenly began to process the battle data. Thousands upon thousands of scenarios raced through its processor at the speed of light as the droid tweaked the circumstances to find the optimal course of action. It completed the equivalent of months of strategizing in the span of a few microseconds. Suddenly, it strode forward, completely ignoring the Captain. Reaching the command chair, it placed itself rigidly down.

“Cease fire. Place all power into the shields. Begin charging the ion cannons,” it intoned, with a complete lack of emotion.

A chorus of “Roger, roger” came from the old battle-droids operating the gunnery and shield monitors.

“On my mark, drop the shields,” TB-D said.

One of the human Petty Officers whipped around, objecting, “Captain, the droid is insane! We’ll be blown apart if we drop our shields!”

Captain Freyg slammed his cane to the ground and thundered, “Do ash it shaysh!”

“Sir, the ion cannons are fully charged!” a droid informed the bridge.

TB-D stood regally and pointed at its foe. “Drop the shields now! Fire ion cannons!”

Bright bolts lanced out as the shields withered away. The black ship was struck and began reeling to the side, as electricity crackled across its surface.

“Hard to starboard! Prepare the forward heavy turbolasers.” TB-D was practically in ecstasy. This was what it was designed for, this was living. “We will completely annihilate the enemy and I will fulfill my programming. I will be victorious.”

As the heavy turbolasers at the front of the ship lined up on the Nihil destroyer, the droid gunner fired. TB-D watched with grim satisfaction as the electric blue beams sliced through the hull of the enemy ship. Flames sprouted from the holes and the doomed wreck drifted downwards, tugged by the gravity it could no longer resist.