A Boring Assignment
Space over Planet Inesmor - Buldai System, Saturday, 18:00
Why am I always getting sent on crappy missions lately?
Major Irsat Hanulf looked at his craft’s head-high display. He could barely make out some of the readings projected in pale green light on the windscreen. The space-proof glass was covered in superficial cracks, testimony to the use of the one-man ship in countless combat missions.
If only I had a hyperdrive that worked, I could get this stupid mission over with and head straight back to base. But no, I’m going to have to sit and wait for a transport for Ashla knows how long.
His droid sent him an on-screen message: “Major, we’ll be entering the atmosphere of Inesmor in three minutes.”
“I know, I know. Activate the front shield and put the weapon systems online just in case.”
The ship started its descent to the planet. Pretty soon the friction noise and the rise in temperature let the pilot know he was leaving outer space and entering atmosphere. Heavy turbulence shook the metallic structure of the ship, which was nothing uncommon.
But suddenly Hanulf felt a steep drop in cabin pressure. Air was rapidly getting scarce. He put on his breathing mask, fastened it tightly, and engaged the oxygen flow. Catching his breath he comlinked to the astrodroid.
“RB15, cockpit pressurisation is down, any other dysfunctions?”
No answer appeared on the droidcom display. And in the pilot’s headphones there was complete silence, not even the usual static.
“RB, do you copy? What the hell is going on?”
More silence.
The Major grabbed the joystick and started navigating the heavily rocked ship through the thick lower atmosphere. From the corner of his eye the pilot saw what looked like lightning coming right at him from a source he couldn’t make out. A second later the ship was jolted and sparks shot out from the cockpit scopes, a smell of burnt metal and plastic assaulting the pilot through his mask. The remaining on-board electronics were fried.
Hanulf searched with his feet for the auxiliary pedals activating the flaps and tried to work them. They responded with intense squeaking.
He had just steered the craft through the last layer of the atmosphere, when another shock sent the Starfighter into a spiral: a turbolaser blast had just taken away the left wing. He fumbled for the firing handles of the ejector seat hanging down above his head, hoping the egress mechanism was still in working order.
One pull on the loop and the canopy detached from the craft, exposing him to the savage assault of air. Only for the seat harness he would have been blown away instantly.
On the second pull nothing seemed to happen. Hanulf, struggling against the insane strength of the airflow, tried again. This time he felt a violent jolt and within seconds intense acceleration was squashing his whole upper body into his lower back as the seat zoomed up like a bullet, propelled by the powerful ejector engines.
Then his chute opened up, the engines automatically shut off and he started gliding over the jagged relief of the blue-green planet. But he wasn’t the only flying object in the sky of Inesmor.
An imperial TIE bomber flanked by what looked like two x-wings, was on rapid approach at two o’clock. This mission, he thought, might not qualify as boring after all.
