SithLore

(Some time after a few gold paragraphs fly past through space..)

A bright flash and out she came, leaking plasma from her port engine and immediately destabilizing, sending her aft end over and putting the banged up, salvaged Y Wing into an uncontrolled spin. It wasn't one of the Y Wing's the Rebel Alliance put on their posters either, just a banged up Clone Wars survivor, but Rok had had moderate success with it, even if it turned like a Coruscant passenger bus.

"I know! I know!" Rok yelled back to the R5 unit, screeching and whirring in the back.

The plan had worked, mostly. He managed to salvage together enough funds through running errands and shuttling freight on the under belly of this former bomber craft, enough to purchase some Ion grade weapon material. It had done the job. He unleashed all three of his black market torpedoes at the Imperial Tibanna processing facility, unmarked on most known maps. All three hit their mark and the station fell to whatever fate awaited it in the asteroid field neighbouring it.

He was no Rebel, not officially anyway. The Tyrannical Empire moved through the outer rim in the early years of the galactic civil war, and the damage had been done. He wasn't sure of his origin really, just that he once was under the orders of a guerrilla fighter, then when he failed, himself and two others made it out on their own, until they died last year. It was the first mistake they had made, but most mistakes made when harassing Imperial's came with a heavy cost. This Y wing was the only surviving craft, as the other two boys piloted an ARC170 craft which perished when they did.

Rok had gone on the only way he knew how, doing meaningless jobs here and there but it always added to his portfolio as a pilot and when he could, he lashed out at the constant enemy wherever he could, but he tried to make it do as much damage as possible. Though lately he'd felt like he was treading water, which is perhaps why he overreached. After all he was now plummeting to the outskirts of a medium-sized trader outpost on an unknown world in the outer-rim. Fortunately the space lanes traffic was heavy, and for the most part there seemed to be minimal Imperial presence. Hopefully he could correct the trajectory to avoid suspicion and of course, death.

The cockpit rocked violently as he entered the atmosphere, he punched three buttons with his right index finger before the deflectors came online again, after failing in retreat before the jump to hyperspace. He adjusted all deflectors to the belly of the craft, heat wrapped around it, causing a blue glaze to form around the silhouette of the Y Wing craft. Instead of heading nose first, he cut out the remaining engine and 'belly-flopped' towards the surface. The stress was immense and Rok felt the blood shift around his body before eventually his stomach shot up, which hit him hard for he almost flew exclusively in zero gravity. Once through the atmosphere, he shifted deflectors forward. The sudden shift in energy tilted the Y wing nose down, the forces of gravity ripped the turret clean off the cockpit and for a moment, he wondered if the canopy would soon follow. Fortunate then that it was far more aerodynamic than the twin cannons which now drifted off away from the nose-diving bomber.

"R5, shift power to the starboard engine...now."

A purple blast raced through the exposed frame of the engine, adding an element of control back to Rok in the cockpit. The fans opened, allowing him to direct the fall much more freely. Luckily for him he was flying a Y-Wing, the space tank. He imagined if he'd taken the hit in another craft he probably would be ice, floating through space as the Imperial Cruiser flew past him.

He crashed into the surface hard, but both straps pushed him back into the chair as gravity tried to throw him through the glass. It rumbled like an earthquake on the highest level of the scale, feeling the landing strut fail, sending the nose into the dirt and catapulting dirt over the cockpit and burying the droid behind him as it added a lot of deceleration to the craft. It took him nearly an hour to get out of the cockpit. Eventually, shooting his way out. The droid was gone, destroyed by debris after the engine re-ignition. The twenty eight year old man clambered from the cockpit, dressed in a civilian blue jumpsuit, he removed his salvaged Rebellion helmet and cast it back into the cockpit, setting the engine to overload to destroy the evidence, but as the craft exploded, sending a pile of dirt into the air, he noticed something approaching.

His blue eyes squinted as he attempted to adjust to the sunlight.

The YT-2000 freighter glided to a landing, Rhoden looked out and saw the Rebel gazing at the approaching craft. "Get out there and keep him from escaping!" Rhoden called back to the rest of Inferno Squad. He got several muffled responses and the distant whine of the boarding ramp lowering. Rhoden jumped up from the seat and ran out as well.

He almost laughed as he saw what remained of the Y-Wing which had so brazenly assaulted the Empire, the man was brave at least.

Rok had lit up a cigarette and was unmoving at the approach of the freighter. He figured at worse it would be a local gang of enforcers, he'd have to pay them or provide a service of some kind but he sensed no danger so far, and he did have a knack for seeing when danger was on the horizon, just not when they're flying in a YT model freighter.

"Wait.." He said, removing the lit stick from his lip.

But perhaps he did feel something was wrong, the approach, too fast, too clean a landing too. 'Professional?' Had to be, but the confirmation came when the ramp lowered and he spotted unmistakable Imperial uniforms.

He dropped the cigarette, quickly grabbing a small piece of plating and looping it over his arm like some kind of make-shift shield and drew a blaster, but he didn't stand and fight, he immediately took off, racing away from the crash in the direction towards the settlement. The only advantage was, they'd landed too soon. He would've been in real trouble had they came between him and the settlement, he was lucky in that sense, at least. Further more he was heading through a path of outcropped rocks, not great cover but better than the other direction where the land levelled out and was flat. His only chance was to disappear among the crowd, but he thought they opened fire when he felt heat on the back of his neck.

Instead, his discarded cigarette had ignited what remained of the Y Wing's fuel reserves, which had seeped out onto the dirt.

'That'll buy me three, maybe five seconds...tops.' He thought to himself as he darted for the settlement.

Rhoden and the rest of the squad immediately broke into a run, for the man had run. Brave but not foolish. The Y-Wings fuel ignited in a blaze but they payed it no mind--their distinctive armor was well enough heat shielded to allow them that brief flash of blistering heat, at least the outer edges of it anyways. Rhoden saw him, and raising his blaster sent a shot tearing through the air between them, it appeared to have grazed only his shoulder, though whether or not it had hit cloth or flesh could not be told.

Rhoden growled and put on a great burst of speed, his long legs aiding his effort. Having closed some of the distance Rhoden tried a less lethal approach: he fired a stun bolt, not only would this bring in the little Rebel alive, it was less likely to miss the man.

Rok continued to run, gallop, essentially. The first shot came quicker than expected. He felt nothing, but smelled burning, and then felt a searing sting before almost immediately nothing. It was likely it had left a burn upon his skin but he had more pressing things to worry about and the ache in his body from constantly running was building.

Glancing back he noticed the leader, driven more than the others to catch up. Then as he turned back the stun shot came. He'd be expecting it, and now the scrap metal served it's purpose. He turned to face the shot and tried to center it as best he could upon the metal. This wasn't the first time he'd been shot at with a stun blaster, which told more about his life than he'd like. To buy more time he unloaded a barrage from the pistol. The trigger had been modified of course, heavily illegal. It sprayed red plasma towards the soldiers. He wasn't interested in stunning them, of course. Gone were those days of less than lethal answers. He was a good shot, as the same principles applied to Starfighter's blasters, but no Mandalorian mercenary.

That was the first time he looked directly at the pursuing force. If they saw anything it would only be disdain, a familiar look to ones who probably made a living off of chasing down Rebels.

He began to alter his running pattern, getting into the fringe of the town where the rocks began to provide sporadic cover.

'Less than halfway to go'. He reassured himself, beginning breathing techniques to keep the engine burning.

The rebel turned and caught the stun bolt on a piece of metal, immediately sending several shots back at the Imperials. Several flew harmlessly over their heads, another glanced off of Rhoden's armor without effect, two more caught him in the chest pausing him momentarily as though he had run into a wall.

Snarling Rhoden abandoned the stun approach and fired several full-power blasts towards the man's legs, firing still as he ran. The rebel dissapeared behind several rocks as splinters flew off from the blaster bolts, Rhoden didn't know if he was simply running still or if he had taken a hit, nor did he care.

Switching on his comm he said, "Bring in the transports, have the Stormtroopers create a perimeter around the town." Rhoden wondered in the back of his mind what the rebel must be thinking. On the one hand there was the possibility of his knowing the secret research that had been going on at the station, on the other he was a simple malcontent with no clue as to how much trouble he was about to be in.

As Rok had made his way into the rock area, he'd felt the dirt kick up and batter his lower legs. Conscious of the incoming fire, he leapt behind the first available cover, crawled to the next, then got up, darting about but keeping his head down. He abandoned the metal plate then changed approach to the town, hoping to come up at the edge of the bazaar, where the market had been in full swing for sometime by this point in the day.

He could hear incoming transports and knew that if he was going to hide in this town, it would have to be one hell of a hiding spot. He hoped he'd find some kind of friendly face but he'd learned through experience not to wait for help.

As he approached the edge of the town, he had removed his flight jacket somewhere in the scattered maze and dashed into the crowd. He knew that the people around him would no doubt be impeded by the Empire for this, but he felt it was a fair trade, considering the alternative. He darted past a general stand where the man was selling amature flight apparatus. He quickly grabbed a masked helmet and threw a random sum of credits at the Nautolan, but he had no choice but to steal a poncho from his neighbour. Luckily the woman was busy with a customer so didn't see him lift it.

Now he could hear the transports landing.

'They're going to lock this place down.' He cursed himself for bringing Imperials in force to this place. He then asked the nearest stranger directions to the space port, then proceeded to follow them, knowing the Imperials would be beginning search patterns soon.

Rhoden climbed rapidly on top of a rock and looked down, the man had gone. He saw now that he was running towards the town. Continuing to watch, magnifying his helmet's view, he watched the rebel purchase a helmet and steal a poncho. Rhoden ceased watching, played back the visual record and keyed it to send to all the troopers.

Amateur. Rhoden thought with disgust. Jumping down Rhoden ran the rest of the way to the town, the rest of the squad with him. Reaching it he began to weave carefully through the crowds, searching for the man who now presumed himself to be disguised. With any luck he would walk into the Imperial's hands, perhaps foolish enough to believe the spaceport or speeder rentals unguarded.

He stepped off one of the transports that was coming into the town and noticed all the trooper ships that were landing and recognized the symbol on some them and the troopers as they were coming off the transports. "Hmm, maybe a chance for some more credits."

He keyed up the commander. "So is there a manhunt going on or is this a show of force? If its a manhunt, how much are you willing to pay me to help catch them?"

Rok made his way into the spaceport. He'd seen Imperials moving to different positions on the way in, the locals causing some trouble of course, that was the only thing he could rely on in the outer rim. Luckily he hadn't ran into any just yet, but he was in trouble and he knew it. He was just one man, and there seemed to be a decent number of Stormtroopers entering the outpost. He'd have to find a way to even the odds, but he knew the odds were in his favour most in the air, then it hit him.

'I'm going to steal a TIE.'

He declared it, almost boosting his own confidence within himself and not a moment too soon. The Imperial's had taken control of the local media outlets and rough shots of his figure from afar were displayed, helmet and all.

"Sithspit." He said, removing the helmet and tossing it aside. There was no hiding now, there was only one thing he could do. He slipped out of the spaceport, knowing that by now the Imperial's were at the checkpoints. He moved to where he saw the first of two TIE escorts park up, just a regular TIE fighter, but there was a shuttle. It looked good. He felt his chances were best on this path, but he decided against it. Even if he could take the shuttle and kill the pilots, TIE's would come back and he'd be ill-equipped to face them. He noted the Headhunter fighter craft only one space down, which only had a single guard patrolling. He saw his opportunity, ditched his hiding position and came out in front of the TIE pilot at point blank range, with convinction, he shot him through the lense of the mask, then planted two more shots in the other pilots chest. He ran past the TIE's, hitting the ignition on the generators as he went which powered up the twin ion engines on both of the craft, his diversion. Had he the time, he would've rigged the craft to blow.

The stormtrooper had heard the blasts but Rok fell the pilots quick enough that an exact location had taken longer to position than if it had been called in. He only got off a shot before Rok was upon him too. Luckily, his shot went wide. It felt like a huge step down from the initial pursuers at the outpost fringes.

He jumped into the cockpit, powered up the engine and hit the throttle. The canopy was still close as it emerged from the bay, clipping the landing strut which had little time at all to retract, sending debris off of the building down below. He banked hard left on the stick and appeared to be on an attack run on the Imperial positions, but it was a feint, he tilted left but banked right and opened up on the Imperial transports. He then attempted to make a get away but stayed low to inhibit trackers. He was in a much better position now than he had been on foot, but he'd kicked the nest and he knew they'd chase him. He prepared to switch power to deflectors and blaster cannons.

He checked the weapon bay and was relieved to find half a dozen missiles loaded.

'Thank you gangsters..' He couldn't help say to himself.