Listehol Run trade route - Mirial System
The outskirts of the Mirial System were like countless other star systems. Distant orbiting bodies and nearby asteroid fields. Debris from when their cool sun used its mighty gravity to shape worlds. Unlike thousands of others, Mirial's sun managed to form something habitable and sprung forth independent life. Mirial was a cold, dry place. Barely a detour on the Hydian Way for any poor trade ships that came down the Listehol Run. Corran had traveled the Hydian Way plenty of times but never came down this route. Bulk haulers rarely came this far unless they were destined for one place: Zygerria. That barbarous, repetitive stain on galactic civilization. They exported wealth and imported sentient lives. Sector Rangers stood for a lot, but their main targets were always slavers. It was about time they did something about it.
Corran sat in the cockpit of a BTL-A4 Y-wing. It drifted only barely in the void of space. The young Ranger was adorned in a New Republic style flight-suit. Military surplus from a decade back. Much like the Y-wing itself. The fighter-bomber had been made available for Sector Ranger use from old storage yards on Coruscant - the friendliest government to their organization. They were probably happy to get the old rust bucket off their hands and cared little if it was lost or destroyed. A manual datapad sat on Corran's lap, which he periodically stopped to scroll through as he tapped at the buttons and levers. He had only flown a space fighter exactly once and it was more a celebratory joy-ride than combat. The old workhorse Y-wing was slower than the Dagger; less nimble. He preferred that because his experience was mostly in larger freighters and the heavier weight would make his acclamation to the controls that much easier. He'd need it for the coming ambush.
They had chosen the outer system of Mirial because the gravity well would make it difficult for their targets to jump to hyperspace until they cleared the outer asteroid belt. It also helped that Mirial authorities were friendly to anyone who pushed against their slaving neighbors. If the mission went south, there was a chance local units could rescue them. A slim chance, but still a chance. The Ranger wasn't alone out here anyway. Before their target convoy arrived, it was probably best to check in with them. It would be a good test of their comm systems, if nothing else. "This is Sector Ranger Corran Velt," the young man said stoically and professionally through his headset, "Can you read me? All craft check in, over."
@Darasuum @Frannykins87
The outskirts of the Mirial System were like countless other star systems. Distant orbiting bodies and nearby asteroid fields. Debris from when their cool sun used its mighty gravity to shape worlds. Unlike thousands of others, Mirial's sun managed to form something habitable and sprung forth independent life. Mirial was a cold, dry place. Barely a detour on the Hydian Way for any poor trade ships that came down the Listehol Run. Corran had traveled the Hydian Way plenty of times but never came down this route. Bulk haulers rarely came this far unless they were destined for one place: Zygerria. That barbarous, repetitive stain on galactic civilization. They exported wealth and imported sentient lives. Sector Rangers stood for a lot, but their main targets were always slavers. It was about time they did something about it.
Corran sat in the cockpit of a BTL-A4 Y-wing. It drifted only barely in the void of space. The young Ranger was adorned in a New Republic style flight-suit. Military surplus from a decade back. Much like the Y-wing itself. The fighter-bomber had been made available for Sector Ranger use from old storage yards on Coruscant - the friendliest government to their organization. They were probably happy to get the old rust bucket off their hands and cared little if it was lost or destroyed. A manual datapad sat on Corran's lap, which he periodically stopped to scroll through as he tapped at the buttons and levers. He had only flown a space fighter exactly once and it was more a celebratory joy-ride than combat. The old workhorse Y-wing was slower than the Dagger; less nimble. He preferred that because his experience was mostly in larger freighters and the heavier weight would make his acclamation to the controls that much easier. He'd need it for the coming ambush.
They had chosen the outer system of Mirial because the gravity well would make it difficult for their targets to jump to hyperspace until they cleared the outer asteroid belt. It also helped that Mirial authorities were friendly to anyone who pushed against their slaving neighbors. If the mission went south, there was a chance local units could rescue them. A slim chance, but still a chance. The Ranger wasn't alone out here anyway. Before their target convoy arrived, it was probably best to check in with them. It would be a good test of their comm systems, if nothing else. "This is Sector Ranger Corran Velt," the young man said stoically and professionally through his headset, "Can you read me? All craft check in, over."
@Darasuum @Frannykins87
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