- Nov 26, 2019
- Reaction score
General Rami Vaan
615th Strike Battalion
Orbit of Charros IV
It was happening again. He could hear nothing but the sound of his harried breathing, feel his heart thumping painfully in his chest. Through dazzled and blurry vision he watched the hauntingly beautiful carnage of space combat. Millions dying in great fiery explosions like stars just within reach. His hands shook at the controls of his Eta-2 Interceptor and he felt himself breaking out in a cold sweat. Why now?
“General! We’re getting torn apart out here! What are your orders?” He heard the voice of his wingman breaking in over his commlink, pulling him back to reality. The Jedi Knight hastily dragged a hand across his moistened brow and shook his head, trying to collect his senses.
“Tighten formation,” He shouted back in reply, his voice firm and authoritative as though nothing was wrong. “Target the leftmost ship in their line, we’ll make a sweep across their gundecks.”
“Roger that!” The clone pilot replied enthusiastically, followed by a more concerned low mutter. “Glad to have you back with us sir…” Rami ignored him. He was in the present now, and completely focused. His blue and red painted starfighter surged forward at the head of the formation, a dozen ARC-170s following in line behind him. As they approached the line of enemy frigates his Astromech turned its head to face in towards the cockpit and let out a few concerned beeps. Rami just grinned in response.
“Just keep count for me. I’ll handle the rest.” He replied. Not a moment later they flew right into a swarm of Separatist fighters. The Jedi twisted and turned in the vacuum of space gracefully, letting loose with his laser cannons and shredding the enemy attack force. Ahead of them was a line of Munificent class frigates, lined up and firing a salvo of turbo lasers on their own Republic cruisers across the field of battle. The Republic fighters swept across the Separatist frigates, launching a barrage of missiles and torpedoes into the artillery batteries and disabling them, one ship after the other.
They were making good progress, softening up the enemy and leaving them vulnerable to be taken apart by their supporting dreadnoughts. That was until a formation of tri-fighters dropped down on them from above and immediately destroyed three of his squadron. “Look out!” One clone pilot shouted a bit belatedly, and the formation broke to engage in a dogfight. Rami seamlessly fell right back into his dodging and weaving, flying circles around his opponents and destroying three of them with ease. One of them however managed to get on his tail and squeeze off a few shots, damaging one of his engines. As the interceptor rocked violently and his Astromech wailed Rami grit his teeth.
“R3 quit your bellyaching and get that thing up again, unless you want us both scrapped.” As the Astromech dutifully went about trying to repair the engine Rami struggled to stay ahead of the tri-fighter. Not an easy task with the hit he had taken. He was trailing smoke, and the fire was spreading. Each second that passed brought a new red light to his HUD. “Could use a little help here…” He muttered urgently into his commlink. Another glancing blow rocked his starfighter. “Dammit Risha where are you…” He hissed to himself.