Shots Outside a Cantina: A Prologue

[sarne]

The sun rising over the massive lone continent of the planet Kal'Shebbol only gave rise to a dull gray defeating the pitch of night. Sprawling clouds of misty rain coated the skies over the morning bustle of foot traffic in the local hub surrounding the starport, and precipitation wetted everything from the rough industrial pre-fab homes dotting the more solitary farms in the lowlands leading to Sorbiss Valley. Within the valley, one of the ominous angular fortresses still inhabited by the Imperial forces of Moff Sarne, the last bastion of loyal Imperials, was already in the midst of a panicked waking. The officers responsible for the base insisted that Sarne would be back, and they would be rewarded for their continued loyalty. The majority of the base had ignored the New Republic’s demands for surrender. Thanks to the New Republic’s taking of the planet, the base was cut off from any sort of supplies, and within a few more days, they’d be out of food, but morale remained high, as they were sure Sarne wouldn’t abandon their loyalty. Safety lights along landing zones and comm towers blinked alert against the dull morning, hangar doors groaned open and aired the blaring klaxons raging inside the base into the quiet of the valley. Three dangerous shadows passed over the rusted vehicle entrance of Forward Base Five. Then six, then nine. Twelve shapes in total divulged from the hanger, a massive metal beast exhaling a swarm of vile insects. The TIE Fighters tucked into perfect trio formations as they skirted the soggy uneven ground outside Forward Base Five, and as a unit turned upwards towards the outer atmosphere once they were clear of their homebase. The lead trio of TIEs surged ahead of the rest of the formation, led by a fighter whose circular viewport was ringed in bright white paint.

Captain Ardric Spence, leader of Menacer Squadron, pushed his accelerator to its limit, the feedback of the controls doing their best to rattle his gritted teeth. These rebels didn't have the right to show their faces on Kal'Shebbol. They were not just taking the planet; they were taking Imperial property and repurposing it for their own use. He now heard that a unit of their anarchistic commandos had stolen an entire pocket carrier from this very planet. The planetary commander had been lucky to have been captured by the rebels rather than facing Sarne's justice, who would rightfully have executed him outright for allowing this to happen. Indeed, the only reason Captain Spence found himself in command of Menacer Squadron was because the previous squadron commander had been shot down during the earlier fighting, captured or killed along with the majority of the previous high command of Kal’Shebbol. Captain Spence felt no remorse for his former leaders -- they had allowed mere rebels to steal this whole world from Moff Sarne, and dishonor for being captured by this ragtag group was punishment enough. The new Menacer Lead had no intention of joining his former commanders, either: when he was assigned a job, he would do it properly. Not that he had much choice: Moff Sarne had moved nearly all surviving Imperial forces off Kal’Shebbol, leaving only Menacer Squadron and a skeleton crew manning Forward Base Five. Sarne had been crystal clear in his standing orders: no Rebel forces were to make any further headway onto the planet now under Captain Spence’s care, or the punishments would be severe. Defending a whole planet from Rebel invasion with a lone TIE Squadron and a handful of support staff was a titanic task. One of the techs had suggested the job was suicidal, that Sarne simply didn't have the resources to bring them with him! Spence of course immediately had the tech executed for his slander. No, Captain Spence relished the chance to prove he was worthy of respect and responsibility exceeding his current position. He had supreme confidence in his skills and his pilots, no matter how adept the rabble calling themselves “the New Republic” seemed to be. He believed in his mission from the moment he’d been given command, and Captain Spence’s resolve was only increased knowing the same rabble from the earlier raid had shown themselves again over the resources he had been put in charge of defending.

But these rebels now held most of the planet! They claimed to now they had "freed" it from "tyranny," not recognizing the Empire provided order and stability for the people! The mere thought of them running around Moff Sarne's home like yarrok caused his face to press against the confines of his helmet in an unflinching sneer.

But their audacity would be fruitless. Captain Spence led his squadron in a sharp arc up towards the cloudy sky, up to where ground sensors had picked up a transport ship in the high atmosphere, carrying supplies for the rebels -- supplies that Forward Base Five would need to hold out until Sarne's forces could return. His fighters’ own sensors were sufficient to pick up the signature of the carrier and... something else. Smaller forms. Fighters, of course, lunging from their stolen lands to come and die railing against the might of the Empire. The fighters were harder to zero in on, however. Cowards, Captain Spence thought sharply, terrified of a stand-up fight and using the thick of the cloud cover to mask their approach.

It hardly mattered. Cowering in clouds or foolishly facing his Menacers, they’d be dead soon no matter what. Still, rules were rules. The Empire had its honor to uphold for the Emperor’s sake! Captain Spence thumbed on his comm to a broad frequency, to make sure the Rebels above got the message.

“Attention Rebel thieves and criminals, this is Captain Spence of The Imperial Navy, Commander of Menacer Squadron. You are currently inhabiting stolen Imperial property and threatening an attack against a sovereign Imperial holding. We will escort you and this transport vessel to Forward Base Five, and you will be treated fairly under Imperial Naval Law. Persist in your recidivism, and any aggressors and their supporting insurgents will be executed outright. You have one minute to respond.”

Almost as soon as Captain Spence flipped the comm off, he heard the voice of his XO, Lieutenant South, in his earpiece.

“That’s our Commander, always TOO good for his own good, et wot? Up to me, we’d just vape em all and be done with it.”

Flight Officer Mickens, the younger pilot manning Menacer Three, chimed in quickly, his nasally tones contrasting sharp against the rough gravel of South’s voice, “If it were up to you, we’d eat every meal with our hands and uniforms would go three months unwashed. The Commander has standards, South.”

Captain Spence smiled as his climbing arc brought him and his squadron closer and closer to the high cloud cover of Kal'Shebbol. South wasn’t known for her tact, but she knew how to fly and how to follow orders, and Flight Officer Mickens was young and undisciplined, but had the fire to bring order to every corner of the galaxy. Fine troops, Spence thought, and he was proud to lead them.

“No chatter, Menacers. Though Three is right: we DO have standards. These Rebels? Next to NONE. Now we’ve all run the simulations, and we all know the score: we’re flying against cowards. They’ll take no real chances they don’t have to, and they’ll try every dirty trick and cheap shot in the book to try and bring us down. But we won’t! Because we’re Menacer Squadron! Proud pilots of the Imperial Navy, and the mighty sword in the Moff’s hand as he cuts away the rot of this sector! Don’t you forget that, Menacers! Now, I want tight trinary formations all the way, and I better not see anyone spooked out of formation. Check for friendly fighters in your sights, and if there’s civilian crossfire hazards try to keep it to the outskirts of town. Whoever leaves the most Rebel craters at the end of this is getting a free extra liquor ration for the next two cargo cycles!”

Cheers went out along the Imperial commline as Spence smiled. The excitement of the pilots warmed him. As did the frantic beating of his heart as his squadron finally reached the ceiling of clouds the Rebels were using to hide. The warmth of his troops and the heat of the oncoming battle made Spence feel like more than just a soldier. It made him feel like a warrior, more alive in these moments than he ever was processing paperwork or inspecting technician rosters. Captain Spence of the Imperial Navy wished he could hold that perfect feeling with him for the rest of his life.

And he did. Captain Spence exploded into trillions of white-hot needles, raindrops of tissue and metal, as scarlet blaster bolts lanced from the bowels of the clouds and superheated TIE into a miniature sun. Menacer Two faltered for a split second, and the momentary confusion was enough to cause Lieutenant South’s craft to stumble into another barrage of incoming fire from above. She had enough time to scream into her comm before the fireball consumed her and her craft, leaving behind only a massive wingpanel. The wingpanel, accelerated into a whirling projectile by the blast, cleaved through Menacer Three as the young Flight Officer attempted a panicked turn. The hexagonal debris bisected Mickens craft almost perfectly, but there was no lightshow to accompany this destruction. The two large pieces of junk that had seconds ago been Menacer Three simply tumbled lazily back to the rolling green landmass of Kal'Shebbol.

The other nine craft that remained from Menacer Squadron slowed their pace enough that they could see the shapes of their attackers, hazy at first but clearer with each microsecond, pass through the clouds and into view. Bone white, and streaked with dazzling orange and red lines, the X-Wings of the FarStar’s assigned squadron had arrived, they had arrived spectacularly, and they had arrived to do battle.