>>5664370It is the hope of Wing Commander Belka that a combination of sim time and these low-level patrols would be enough for the rookies to cut their teeth on. So far, it seems to be working. The MSDF only lost ten ships and eighteen pilots by the time they retook the Chiller. The loss of hardware isn’t too much of an issue – the diplomats worked out another deal with the Teladi to sell the Alliance mothballed fighters.
Suzel pulls the <span class="mu-i">Albatross</span> out of Amagi’s gravity well, setting a course towards the convoy. He coughs twice and clears his throat before reaching for the comm. “Jolt-Leader, this is Albatross. How copy, over?”
“Jolt-Leader reads you, five-by-five.” The reply comes smoothly from the squadron leader, a Falleen named Ashim. “Try to keep up with us.”
If he rolled them any harder, the Nagai’s eyes would’ve fallen out of his head. “That’s the plan.” He hits another button, switching frequencies to the convoy. “Convoy-Lead, this is Albatross. How copy, over?”
The reply comes smoother, without the inflection of an adrenaline-huffing flyboy. “Loud and clear. Glad to have you with us, Albatross. Transmitting jump coordinates now…”
“…coordinates received. We’re locked in and ready to go when you are.”
“That’ll be within the minute. Standby for our signal…”
The cockpit of the <span class="mu-i">Albatross</span> is buzzing with activity. S-19 beeps and chirps from its station, communicating with HK-82 and B-33 as they crunch numbers and oversee subsystems and ongoing processes. Even Ceyla has her own role to play, eyeing the astrogation computer as best she can. You occupy the sensor array, keeping a sharp eye on the on-board ECM and scanners for the first sight of trouble.
Tapping at the comm, you call, “Elba, Trykov. We’re about to jump. You guys good?”
The query is met with a “yes, sir” and an inarticulate grunt. They’ve both taken to the dorsal and ventral turrets.
“Ceyla, how about you?”
Through the burgeoning Force bond, you can sense her unease and apprehension, warring with the stoicism expected of a Jedi. But your words seem to tip the balance. Your padawan flashes a thumbs-up before returning to her work.
“All hands, prepare to jump…” announces Suzel, making the last preparations. The convoy lead has already jumped, with the escort hot on their heels. As the ship falls in line with the rest of the convoy, their engines similarly glow with the tell-tale color of a hyperdrive charge. “Accelerating to hyperspace in three…two…one!”
The universe above your head reels and elongates as Suzel punches the hyperdrive. As the individual points of the stars lengthen, a force presses you against and into your seat…
>>Thirty minutes later…“Standby…” Suzel adjusts several manual compensators, “Ready to go back to sublight…cutting us back in…now.”
(cont.)
