[fic] Squadron Legacy, Chapter 4

[Sithspecter]

Chapter Four: Regret

 

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Tyren’s adrenaline pumped as he sprinted down the long hallway. His mouth gulped the sterile air as he pushed his body. Kohath was slightly ahead of him, he’d always been in better shape than Tyren. But they weren’t the only ones running. Hundreds of crew members had appeared at the sound of the alarm. The hallway was flooded with men, some half-naked, others pulling on clothes as they ran.

 

Right now, Tyren wasn’t even concerned with what was happening, his only mission was to get to the hangar as fast as he could. The massive flow of men in the hallway made a tremendous noise, like a herd of Iriaz on the run. The noise was only dwarfed by the constant scream of the alarm, as the red lights continued to flash.

 

The frenzy continued forward, and came to an intersection in the hallway. Most of the crew members continued to the right, which led to the closest entrance to the hangar. Kohath, Tyren, and several others turned to the left.

 

‘A longer distance,’ Tyren thought, ‘But more quickly traversed without the crowd.’

 

A shockwave and an ear shattering explosion erupted from the direction of the hangar, flinging men against the walls and the floor. Tyren felt his breath disappear as his body slammed into the floor. Struggling to breathe, Tyren swung himself back upright. Kohath was in the process of getting up as well. Tyren extended his hand to Kohath, who grasped it firmly and pulled himself up. They both continued running without a word.

 

Turning the corner, Tyren could now see inside the hangar. It was a scene of pure chaos. He could make out the remains of a pitted AX-18 in the center, and one beside it violently burning, orange flames spurting from several locations. The firefighters were already there, trying to keep the blaze from spreading to other fighters. Mechanics and other crew members dashed about, attempting to wheel the other spacecraft away from the blaze.

 

Tyren paused involuntarily, taken aback by the disastrous scene. Gathering his senses, he rushed over to a group of men struggling to push an AX-18 away from the fire. Taking a position under the right stabilizer, he prepared to push with all his might. Several other men also joined in.

 

“1...2...3...LIFT!” Came the command.

 

Tyren strained under the weight of the heavy fighter. He felt it move slightly, then lift onto the hover stands used for moving the fighters around the flight deck.

 

“CLEAR!” yelled a maintenance officer, then activated the controls to move the spacecraft to another location.

Looking around, Tyren saw Kohath helping some firefighters control their high pressure hose. Immediately, Tyren sprinted over to them, and maintained a fast grip on the bucking hose.

 

After about an hour of battling the blazes, things were finally beginning to return to normal in the hangar. The remains of the exploded AX-18 had been removed, and the other burned out fighter had been moved to be inspected and repaired. Still, the flight deck was a snarl of activity. Mechanics were checking spacecraft near the incident to ensure they were airworthy, multiple clean-up crews were scrubbing the affected areas to remove the char from the surfaces, and many fighters were being repositioned to be deployed. Also, several investigators were present, probing anything and everything that was involved with the incident.

 

Tyren and Kohath collapsed in a corner of the hangar, exhausted. Their flight suits were heavily stained with ash, fuel, and fire retardant, and their faces were streaked with black. The men had endured more than their share of excitement within the past 24 hours. And it didn’t help that they had missed breakfast.

 

“I don’t even know what to say Tyren,” Kohath said somberly. “I can’t believe that Crayx is gone.”

 

The words stung Tyren’s core. Crayx Fleir had graduated from the Academy just a year earlier than he and Kohath. They had never really been friends with Crayx, just acquaintances. Crayx had always seemed really quiet, and all business. Tyren’s mind initially rejected the thought.

 

“What? Crayx wasn’t…” Tyren started, and paused.

 

“Tyren, Crayx was in that cratered fighter today. The other ship that burned was from Squadron II. A proton torpedo was somehow activated and, well, Crayx didn’t have time to get out of his ship.” Kohath said with pain in his voice.

 

‘Not Crayx. Not tall, quiet Crayx. The guy who was always so responsible,’ Tyren thought silently. A deep wave of regret hit Tyren. Crayx had always seemed to have trouble making friends. Images of Crayx flashed through Tyren’s mind.

 

Tyren and Kohath sat, looking at the floor for several minutes, reflecting.

 

“You know, Kohath,” Tyren said, breaking the silence. “We should have gotten to know that guy better.”

 

“Yeah,” Kohath replied, deep in thought.

 

Their meditation was interrupted by a dispatch officer who approached quietly.

 

“K’Aldrin and Carmi?” He asked.

The pair stood up slowly.

 

“Yes sir?” Tyren and Kohath replied.

 

“You men have been bumped back up on to the flight roster for today. I hate to tell you on such short notice, and with the events today, but orders are orders.”

 

The officer paused, and took a deep breath. “You are to be ready to fly with Ghost squadron at 1400 hours.”

 

Looking down at the roster on a data pad, the officer pointed to Tyren. “Commander, you will be flying 1835, and Ensign Carmi, you will be in 1798.”

 

“Yes sir, we’ll be ready. What is the mission?” Tyren inquired.

 

“It’ll be the escort to Fondor that you got pulled from last night. We’ve had…well…two pilots who aren’t going to be able to fly mission anymore.” The officer changed the subject. “I know you men must be exhausted from yesterday and today, go get some chow. I’ll get the crew to do the pre-flight and update your charts.”

 

“Thank you, Sir.” Tyren said. “We really appreciate it.”

 

All three saluted, and went their separate ways.

 

Tyren and Kohath headed to the nearest exit. Now, many of the crewmembers went back to their previous tasks, or if they were of duty, went to the mess hall or to sleep.

 

Shuffling down the hallway to the mess hall, Kohath spoke up.

 

“I don’t think that I’ve flown a ship two days in a row since flight school.”

 

“I know. But then again, we haven’t been in a sector with much activity either. I guess that’s changing.”

 

Tyren continued, a new resolve in his voice.

 

“All right, we’re going to get something to eat, clean up some, grab our flight gear, and head to the map room. We need to get as much information as we can about the flight today. I’d also like you to go ahead and coordinate with Captain Mize, he’s going to be our flight leader today.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Kohath replied. “We should also plan our weapons load out, and calculate our fuel burn.”

 

Reaching the mess hall once more, the two pilots filed into the growing line of sweaty, dirty crewmen. They waited their turn with minimal conversation, and ate in silence. Upon finishing, they returned their trays to the designated area, and began their walk back to their quarters.

 

Tyren stopped at the elevator, scanning his pass.

 

“Okay, Kohath. I’ll see you in 30 minutes.”

 

“Right, don’t be late.” Kohath said with a forced smile before turning to continue down the hall.

 

The elevator opened and Tyren stepped in. To his surprise, it was empty. He entered his level in the entry pad, and the elevator whisked upwards. It began to decelerate, then stopped. The door opened with a hiss, and Tyren exited. He briskly walked to his cabin, and removed his flight suit, picked up his shower bag, and headed back to the showers.

 

‘At least I’ll get to enjoy another shower today,’ he thought to himself, turning on the warm water. Tyren thought back to the community showers at the Academy, and smiled. What a strange way to bond with the other guys. The upper classmen had always given the freshman a rough initiation in the large shower. Tyren had endured it for his first two years, and then learned to enjoy it as an upper classman himself. Kohath had relished it from the start. Tyren rememberd Crayx had never seemed comfortable on the rare occasion that Tyren had seen him in the group shower room.

 

Crayx… Why couldn’t Tyren take his mind off the guy? A sinking feeling came over Tyren once again. Tyren began to realize the transition and sacrifice that had taken place at the Academy. Boys became men. Men who had to be ready to give their lives for the Republic.

 

Tyren sighed, and shook his head, flinging water inside the confined shower. He stepped out, dried off, and continued back to his quarters. Pulling on yet another earth green flight suit, he gathered his flight gear, and headed back to the elevator.

 

Kohath was waiting at the bottom. He was twirling his flamboyantly decorated flight helmed in his hands.

 

“Captain Mize just informed me that we’re moving the timetable up two hours. We’re to report to the briefing at once.” Kohath informed Tyren.

 

“The deck crew should have our fighters just about prepared. We’re not going to be able to check the astrogation charts today, but as long as one of the other guys has made sure its flyable, we should be okay.” Looking at his chrono, Tyren continued. “Get the deck officer on the comlink and let him know that we’ll both take standard payload, and the same fuel as the rest of Ghost squadron.”

 

Kohath did as the pair quickly strode down the hallway. Nearing the briefing room, Tyren checked to be sure all his gear was in order. Captain Mize had a reputation for being a stickler about almost everything.

 

Entering the small, dark room, Tyren could see the three other pilots gathered around a holo-map of the quadrant around Fondor. Captain Mize, a gaunt, steely twi-lek, was bent forward in thought. As Kohath and Tyren approached, he straightened, crossing his arms.

 

“I’m glad you gentlemen could make it. I know this was short notice, but let’s try to be on time, alright?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The pair returned.

 

The twi-lek continued, “I supposed you’ve been given the basic mission overview. You won’t need to know much more than that, just stick close to us, and don’t do anything stupid. This whole operation has been thrown together very quickly, that idiot intelligence officer won’t hardly tell us anything about the whole thing. Are your fighters ready to go?”

 

“Yes sir, they are. We’ve had the deck crew get them prepped and fueled, we’ll just have to do the last pre-flight checks before takeoff.” Tyren said.

 

“Good, at least we know you can do something right.”

 

The captain was a seasoned veteran, with 17 air to air kills. Ghost squadron, one of the Republic’s foremost forces in recent pirate interdiction, had collectively downed or deactivated over 200 ships. Tyren and Kohath’s escapade the day before did not impress them.

 

Pointing to the male human pilot, Mize continued. “This is Commander Rand Toval, and that is Gaina Le’kk.”

 

Tyren hadn’t noticed that the other pilot was a female. Her steely blue eyes stared through the newcomers with complete indifference.

 

“Now that Crayx is gone, looks like you’ll be part of the squadron. Not that I want you, Crayx was one ace pilot, I’d rather have him than both of you punks any day.”

 

Mize, who was still frowning, spoke again, “Okay, K’Alrdin and Carmi, go ahead and get to your fighters, and get those last checks done. I want both of you to be ready by the time we get to the hanger. We‘ll get the astrogation charts and general reports for the sector.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

The pair stood at attention, and saluted.

 

Mize returned their salute with an impatient grunt.

 

The pair briskly walked out, and headed toward the hangar.

 

Tyren was too busy to be angry with the Commander’s attitude towards them. He brooded over it for a few seconds, then let it go. Mize was probably plenty upset over Crayx’s death, and this was the way he was expressing it.

 

Tyren looked over at Kohath, with a weak smile.

 

“Ready to go, boss?” Kohath queried.

 

“You bet, Kohath,” Tyren’s voice calm, “Let’s do this thing.”

 

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[machievelli]

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