Beyond the comforts, luxuries, and security of the Core Worlds were the boundless dangers and equally boundless riches of the frontier. The Velcar Sector was no different. Asteroid fields in the area contained immense amounts of profitable minerals. Located beyond the boundaries of any current galactic government made it that much more tantalizing for independent prospectors and mining companies alike. All these operations required a constant flow of workers, supplies, and equipment. Not to mention export of their captured resources.
Few laws, uncharted logistics lanes, and lots of loot proved too tantalizing for raiders to pass up. Among the many, many other issues caused by this dangerous mix, groups of starfighters had been ravaging the various freighters coming and going from the sector. Usually hauling ships away for the prize inside. Sometimes not. A hastily established coalition of shipping companies contacted the Sector Rangers to help restore some order. Find out who the raiders are, where they are striking from, and ruin their day. That's why Lieutenant Corran Velt was strapped into the cockpit of a TI-3A D-Wing Starfighter floating amongst various orbital rocks. The old and odd ship had been kindly offered from the ad-hoc armories of the shipping companies as a tool to rid the area of raiders, which he had accepted given he lacked access to anything better. It was only the third time the blond ranger had ever sat in the cockpit of a fighter craft. Only the second time for an actual mission. His piloting skills for anything smaller than a freighter left a lot to be desired.
Thankfully, as personnel-strapped as the Sector Rangers were, he was able to call in some help. "Squadron Leader Asuchi, do you read me?" Corran adjusted some frequency knobs on his console. Asteroids sometimes played havoc with communications. "Come give me a flyby if you can hear me, over." The inexperienced pilot twisted his head to look out the canopy of his own D-wing in an attempt to spot her. With any luck, and maybe some help, maybe this ugly craft would make it home intact. So would he along with it.
@Bex
Few laws, uncharted logistics lanes, and lots of loot proved too tantalizing for raiders to pass up. Among the many, many other issues caused by this dangerous mix, groups of starfighters had been ravaging the various freighters coming and going from the sector. Usually hauling ships away for the prize inside. Sometimes not. A hastily established coalition of shipping companies contacted the Sector Rangers to help restore some order. Find out who the raiders are, where they are striking from, and ruin their day. That's why Lieutenant Corran Velt was strapped into the cockpit of a TI-3A D-Wing Starfighter floating amongst various orbital rocks. The old and odd ship had been kindly offered from the ad-hoc armories of the shipping companies as a tool to rid the area of raiders, which he had accepted given he lacked access to anything better. It was only the third time the blond ranger had ever sat in the cockpit of a fighter craft. Only the second time for an actual mission. His piloting skills for anything smaller than a freighter left a lot to be desired.
Thankfully, as personnel-strapped as the Sector Rangers were, he was able to call in some help. "Squadron Leader Asuchi, do you read me?" Corran adjusted some frequency knobs on his console. Asteroids sometimes played havoc with communications. "Come give me a flyby if you can hear me, over." The inexperienced pilot twisted his head to look out the canopy of his own D-wing in an attempt to spot her. With any luck, and maybe some help, maybe this ugly craft would make it home intact. So would he along with it.
@Bex