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Greetings Pilots,

The mission has been out for some time, but thought a visual prompt might help some of you find the flight deck....

Both missions, X-Wing and TIE Fighter, can be downloaded from the Killboards and are due midnight December 20, 2009. Narratives are strongly encouraged.

As you may have noticed, Castor has stepped down from the PSG XO Spot and MGN Damon Lightwind now fills that Spot. Congratulations and Thank You!

The PSG will continue to run the two current ITODs, so delve into the story and have some fun!!!

I will be posting all the past missions and merits in the next few days and everyone's DB Profile will be up to date.

Out for now.

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Chapter 7 Flim-Flame

The celebration in the Odin’s Bar & Grill was subdued. All the pilots had collected there, as they normally did after a mission. But as opposed to the usually festive atmosphere, the mood was tense. Everyone was thinking about the consequences of the billions of things that could go wrong for Alta and Garrant. No one knew how long it would take for the two to return. ..if they did at all. It was going to be a hard waiting game.

            -----

“How long is this going to take?” Admiral Borran looked at Castor with plenty more questions than that on his mind.

Castor answered without hesitation, “I don’t know, sir. It depends on a number of things. I can get in. I can get out. Getting it done, and done successfully depends on a lot of factors. …the ‘bugs’ not being the least. But I won’t say I couldn’t use some help.”

“Got anyone in mind, or are you taking Mike?” Spokes’ mind leapt to the one logical choice; the only other person with a vested interest in the matter.

“I haven’t asked Mike yet, but I was planning on it as soon as I got your permission,” Castor gave Spokes the subtle reminder that he hadn’t actually cleared the action yet. He wasn’t actually expecting the Admiral to give Castor permission to set out on this. It was unconfirmed intelligence that started the investigation to begin with. The investigation itself had run up against numerous dead ends, due to the places required to infiltrate to get the records. And Castor had to face it… The powers that be just weren’t going to spend the resources on finding a single pilot who may or may not have been killed to begin with. But that meant that if anyone was going to pursue this, it would have to be an unauthorized action, taken by people who would be considered AWOL, at best.

Spokes looked at the papers on his desk for a moment. “I can’t give it,” he said finally. “Command would have my backside. …particularly with us being in the middle of this highly classified operation.”

“But…”

“But I believe you have about a hundred years of leave stacked up. From the records I have, you’ve never taken any. And you’ve looked rather exhausted lately. So, I believe I’m going to order you to take three weeks vacation. I believe I shall also assign Mike to make sure you take this vacation. And I don’t want to hear any protests. You’re going, and those are my orders. Dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Castor saluted. “Understood, Sir.” Spokes was intently going through the paperwork on his desk, and didn’t return the salute, so Castor turned and left.

A minute or two later as Spokes had shuffled the stack of papers without actually looking at them for yet the third time, he finally looked up at the door to his office, and said to no one in particular, “And so I have no one between me and Greedo for three weeks.” He sighed. “God help us all.” He picked up the stack of papers and straightened it. “If Greedo’s intelligence gathering is as good as Castor says it is, maybe Greedo won’t require anything done until after they get back.”

       -----

Castor found Mike in the Bar; fruit juices and soft drinks being the only things served since a mission was coming up. Mike was looking disgustedly at his glass at Castor sat down across from him. “Got a minute, Mike?”

“Yah.” He pushed the drink to the side of the table, as if it might have contained Bantha Drool. “More sober minutes than I want. Whatcha got?”

Castor slid a folder across the table to McEwen. “Have a look. You tell me.”

Mike flipped through the photos and pages of text, and finally closed the folder. “If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…”

“I’m thinking we’ve found our duck,” Castor finished for him.

“You’re going in there?” Mike asked.

“I’m about the only one that can,” Castor said. “And I have to.”

“Need help?” Mike raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“I could use it,” Castor said without hesitation.

The conversation came to a temporary pause as Ste walked by. Castor looked up, nodded and smiled. Ste threw Castor a casual salute without breaking stride on his way to the corner where he and a few others liked to sit.

Castor turned back to Mike, and with a voice more hushed than before said seriously, “Make no mistake; this is not going to be fun. …or easy. I can’t guarantee any of us are going to make it back.”

“When is it going down?” Mike asked.

“During this mission. We’re going to use the confusion to cover our short flight to the jump point.”

“I’m ready.”

“I figured you would be.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“About what? I’ve been ordered on leave, and your orders are to make sure I take it.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s pray that we’re not already too late. The briefing for the mission is in two hours. I’ll see you on the flight deck twenty minutes after they launch. Dress casual,” Castor said, implying that they’d be wearing nothing that would link them with the Patriot’s Starfighter Group.

“Gotcha,” Mike nodded.

-----

Spokes gave the order. The buoy was dropped. “At least that will let Alta and Garrant know we won’t be long if they get here while we’re gone.” The message they’d recorded on the buoy was a simple one. It contained only three letters. “BRB”.

-----

PILOTS TO THE BRIEFING ROOM!!
ALL ON DUTY PILOTS TO THE BRIEFING ROOM!!

The pilots filed in. Admirals Borran and Eftrata-Landis were already there, as usual. Both Admirals showed a calmness neither one felt, but for different reasons. When the pilots were seated, Spokes began.

“We have received an emergency transmission from the Rodian Pirate Leader Flame. Her crew has mutinied, and, unfortunately for pirates, that means death more often than not. Her communiqué states they have called for assistance from the Empire.

“In any event, the General says that she is aware of their delaying tactics - most likely to await help coming from the Empire – but that she will not be remaining on board. She is delaying only long enough that we might be able to arrive and cover her escape.”

Damon spoke up. “Could this be a trap, Sir? Designed to get us trapped by the incoming Imperial forces?” I was a valid concern, and probably weighed in the minds of a number of the pilots.

“Yes. It could be,” Spokes agreed, “but if that’s the case, then we’re being betrayed by the General.” Spokes looked pointedly at Castor. “I’ve been repeatedly assured that is not the case. However… the General informs us that we will be granting Flame’s request for aid because she may be able to provide even more StarHammer information in the near future.”

“What about the rest of the pirates?” Wolfman asked.

“Flame apparently feels they have outlived their usefulness, and has declared them Fair Game. But that is a secondary concern.” Spokes turned to Castor. “Admiral.”

Castor stepped forward, and the holoprojector came on. “As you’ll see in this simulation, the Two Star is present, as is Flame in her starfighter, and a projected pursuit. Our task is to delay the pursuit long enough for her to eject her R2 unit, which will be disguised as a Nav Buoy, and which contains information vital to our investigation of the StarHammer project. From there Flame will dock with a starship, which will be able to take her safely to where ever her destination lies. The R2 unit will be recovered by Shock, leaving the Buoy shell. Our primary concern is to provide the cover for this operation.

“We expect Imperial reinforcements to arrive, but we don’t know who or what. Deal with anything that is pursuing Flame, then deal with any other hostile starfighters. If the Two Star or the Imperial starship can be destroyed, do so.”

“Flight 1 will be in B-Wings, because of its enhanced shielding and because you may find the ions useful. Flight 2 will be ready to launch in X-Wings, and Flight 3 will cover you in the A-Wings. We expect Alliance type starfighter resistance, until the Imperial reinforcements arrive.

“Also. Mike and I will be taking a short sabbatical. …three weeks. …and we’ll be using the cover of this mission to head out in our remaining Gunboat. We will be unannounced, and we will have our ship ID set as neutral. Please do not shoot at us as we leave, as Mike has little patience for that kinda thing.”

“Where are you going?” Stargazer spoke up.

“Particularly in a Gunboat,” Ste added.

Castor looked at Spokes, who returned his gaze without expression but turned and rolled to the door. Castor turned back to the pilots as the door irised closed. “Mike and I are going undercover for an unsanctioned recovery mission. And that’s all I can tell you. If we make it back alive, you’ll know what we were doing. But until then, this is all the information I can give you.” He looked around at the pilots. “If there are no questions about the mission, then saddle up. Your assignments are on your datapads. Launch is in…” he looked at his datapad, “twelve minutes. Dismissed!”

The pilots ran out checking their datapads as they left. Only Mike was left. “You’re sure you want to do this? I have to go. You don’t.”

“I have to go just as much as you do. Seeya in thirty,” Mike said as he turned and left.

************


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Admiral Tyrell "Spokes" Borran
Commanding Officer
Patriot Starfighter Group