Untitled RtF Fiction by MAJ Keth Aalith Second place (tied) in the RtF 2016 Fiction Bonus Comp During a routine training exercise pitting pilots of the ISDII Hammer against the superior TIE Jockeys of the ISDII Warrior, MAJ Keth Aalith grows bored. "Colonel Schueler, this is Major Aalith". The radio call was not unexpected. In fact, COL Schueler had anticipated the call at least 30 minutes prior. Maybe Major Aalith had been asleep at the stick. COL Schueler sighed to himself, expecting what was next. "Yes, Major?" "Colonel, we've been flying about out here wasting time for near an hour. Is this exercise going to kick off sometime this decade?" "Major, you know it takes time to martial two entire wings worth of pilots, let alone coordinate a live-fire exercise of this magnitude in a safe and responsible manner. If you could just have some patience..." "It's a huge waste of time, if you ask me. The time spent organizing this thing has to have cost the Empire a pile of credits. Why, man-hours alone... ugh. Now we're just flying in circles waiting for everyone to get their act together. And for what? If we practice against ourselves, it's my opinion that we're only going to stay the same. Especially in an event with minimal risk. A pilot doesn't know what he's truly made of until he is flying for his life. Literally. If we want to have a slap-fight in space, well, that's what the simulators are for. Any pilot can excel against AI. It's when we face a real pilot, one who is also flying for his or her life, that we see who's got it and who doesn't. THAT'S when a pilot get's better. THAT'S where we need to focus our training efforts. Not against our own buddies who can't do more than take out our shields." "Major, one day, when you're in command, you can take all the inexperienced pilots you want and fly them off to their deaths against live enemies. In the meantime, your current regime wishes to keep them all alive and breathing while using the best methods at their disposal to make an effective team of pilots that can keep our empire strong. You may be one of our better combat pilots, but your training is limited. There are other pilots who have spent literally hundreds of hours in the simulator and their skills would rival your own. That being said, we are here, this exercise is happening, make peace with it, pilot." Keth sighed a "Sir, yes sir" over the radio, then began a lazy figure 8 pattern. How much longer could it possibly be before everyone was ready? How much more time would be wasted "playing war" when... Suddenly Keth noticed a faint blip on his radar. "Warrior, this is Major Aalith, Theta Flight three... are you picking up this radar contact?" "Affirmative, Major. Nothing to be concerned about. It appears to be some sort of cargo ship with a small escort. Little threat, though I'm not sure what has brought them out this far from any established shipping lanes. Attempts to communicate have been met with silence, but we see little point in diverting resources from the exercise to investigate." "Warrior... if I'm reading this right, they seem to have turned directly away from us. Might they be running?" "A possiblity, Major, but given that we are engaged in a full scale exercise, there's no need to divert resources..." "Let me! I'm just flying around killing time anyway. Let me investigate. I'll check things out and if it's anything that needs further attention, I'll let you know. I can be back before this thing kicks off (if it ever does)." Colonel Schueler, nearly reaching his limit in frustration, jumped in "For the love of... Fine! Major, go investigate. Warrior, please proceed with exercise preparation. Keth, if you aren't back in time for the kick-off of this exercise, you'll be scrubbing my personal latrine for the rest of your miserable life!" "Can do!" "You think that, but let's see if you can get there and back in that missile boat." Keth immediately turned toward the radar blip. "My Sublight Acceleration Motor says I can!" Engaging his SLAM, Keth barreled toward the small convoy. "Unidentified convoy. Shut down your engines immediately and prepare for inspection by the Galactic Empire." Nothing. "Warrior, I'm detecting a cargo freighter with a handfull of cargo containers, an escort shuttle, and four Z-95s. Radio communication has been met with silence. I am approaching." Realizing they had little chance for escape, the Z-95s immediately turned to face the incoming Missile Boat. "Uh, Warrior, the Z-95s are engaging." "Copy that, Major. Attention all pilots, we are PAUSE-EX. Repeat, PAUSE-EX. A pilot of the Warrior has been engaged by hostiles. We need to send a response team..." "There won't be time for that, Warrior", Keth interrupted. As the Z-95s approached, he prepared to open fire. They were on him quickly. As they began firing their first volley of lasers, Keth squeezed the trigger to return fire. Nothing. "Son of a... I exausted the lasers using the SLAM. Switching to missiles." His shields took the brunt of the attack, but he quickly came around. "Engaging tractor beam". Freezing the first target right in his sights, he launched a missile. Direct hit, as expected. He then disengaged the beam and began tracking his second victim. Turning he found another Z-95. As he reached to engage his tractor beam, he was suddenly hit from behind by the remaining two fighters. The Warrior checked in. "Theta three-one, are you ok? We're detecting shields at 65%." "Nothing I cant handle" he replied as he engaged the beam weapon. Another missile volley and now half of the fighters were space debris. He turned about and was able to target a third Z-95, quickly firing missiles before it could react. One ship left. "Warrior, cancel your response team. I'm finishing up now. Prepare a boarding party, I have a feeling we'll be very interested in the cargo that we find." Keth turned toward the final target as it attempted to flee back toward the escort shuttle. He was able to easily lock on and dispense with the Headhunter. He then sent a final message of warning to the escort shuttle. "Unidentified shuttle, power your engines down. You have no fighter escort remaining. Comply, or be destroyed." The radio crackled a brief response. "We will comply." As the two remaining craft powered down their engines, Major Aalith scanned the cargo containers. Contraband, as expected. "It looks like our new friends here thought they were sneaking through empty space with their goods, but luck was against them." "Roger that, Major. Now, if you're through playing, would you kindly rejoin your flight before this exercise begins in earnest?" Colonel Schueler's lighthearted suggestion came right as the boarding party departed the Warrior. "On my way, Colonel, but I still think..." "NOW, Major!" Keth sighed a "Sir, yes sir" over the radio. |