HA-70 Tempest Bomber

Colonel Tessa looked out the tinted transparisteel window of the Jakkuvian bunker. Outside a HA-70 Tempest II Ground Attack Starfighter was being loaded up. Interesting as it may seem, it was hardly a source of excitement. Being posted to Jakku was like being banished to a desolate hellscape beyond the outer rim. Only hell wouldn’t have this much sand. It got into everything, and when it got into mechanical equipment or Force forbid the avionics of even the most primitive Starfighter it could do enormous damage. The squadron spent more time on maintenance – and cleaning - than it did on anything else.

Such challenges might be tolerable if it weren’t for the fact that there was absolutely nothing to do on the planet. If it weren’t for some old battle they wouldn’t even bother having a New Republic presence. For the Colonel, this posting was an unfairly dispensed punishment. She had never seen eye to eye with the top brass in her command - whose antiquated tactics and thinking often led to avoidable trouble - so when the time finally came for a belated promotion to a planetary command, she was stuck with this stupid job.

The ding of alarms distracted her from the window.

“Jakku Command this is Green 6, permission for launch?”

The technician at the computer console turned to Tessa “permission granted Colonel?”. She nodded back to him.

“Green 6, this is command, permission granted, please proceed to your designated patrol route”.

The rev of Starfighter engines become audible from inside the bunker, and the Starfighter rose out of view. An older model of ship, they were sent to Jakku, being the only production fighter able to withstand Jakku’s heat and sand without modification. That said, they weren’t impervious to the sand, and they were hardly the greatest steed to be driving in a dogfight.

“Sergeant”, Tessa said to the technician, “prepare landing zone 4 for the fighters return, and” –

“Jakku Command, this is Green 6, we have two TIEs, repeat, two TIEs, moving at 100 clicks through sector 8, request clearance to intercept”.

Perhaps she had misjudged today, Tessa thought, as she leaned into the microphone. Even for an old clunker like the Tempest, with its homing energy torpedos two TIEs would be easy.

“Green 6, permission to intercept granted; command to ground control, launch Green 3 and Green 4 for reinforcement”.

“Ground control to command, acknowledged”.

“Green 6, please acknowledge”. Tessa checked the radar screen for sector 8. The computer filtered out the civil traffic, sure enough two TIEs were identified still moving at high speed. Oddly enough, Green 6 was nowhere to be seen. “Repeat, Green 6, please acknowledge”.

There was no response. It could only mean one thing. “Jakku command to ground control, launch Green 8 and 11, declare code 1, Starfighter lost”.

A 1 000 000 credit Starfighter lost to couple of old TIEs. This was going to mean a lot explaining to high command. But whoever did this would pay.