Chapter 1 - Hiigara

Up, down, bank right, watch for that asteroid, down, little more. The Triikor-class interceptor moved along at cruise speed, followed by another, flying through the "channel" provided by a thin belt of asteroids, almost reminiscent of the Turanic Raider asteroid belt race. Pirates that were pilots. Heh.

Wing Commander Qu'jet was flying in the first fighter, painted in the yellow and red of the Taiidan imperialists; the vibrant fresh colors indicated this was a well-cared for and maintained craft. Several little icons of fighters were under the cockpit.

Two Taiidan Republican Defenders; and four Kushan Blade Interceptors. Below that were several other craft of various makes and types...Ferrn Aggregate Attackers, and other alien fighters...he was not as proud as others would be of his various kills.

Was pride a sin?

To him it was...he tried to not show off his kills, knowing that each kill was not a game. It was earned. Usually he would let the pilot eject and be rescued...professional courtesy. He'd been on the receiving end of being shot out of the sky, having once executed a death dive against Taiidan republican defenders in a heavy corvette...only barely surviving with a vacuum breach, but knocking out a pair of defenders in the process.

'jet shrugged indifferently in the cockpit.

This was his home. He felt at ease in space, in his interceptor, a odd trait, considering that you could die in less then a second, an d that only a 1/2-inch or so of thin metal protected him from the sucking vacuum of space.

Like cold tendrils the vacuum pulled at your skin, chilling it cold, freezing you down to your bone, as one vainly struggled to break away from the coldness of space. Like an extremely strong invisible force it'd pull at you until it plucked you out.

He'd had the semi unlucky privilege of serving in a 2 seater, a Heavy Corvette.

That'd happened to the rear gunner, against 5 Taiidan republic defenders. After nearly getting killed, he'd been pounced by Kushans...2 multigun corvettes, and one interceptor, barely making it back to the carrier before it hyper-ed out.

Kushans...He remembered the fight against the Kushans, those worthless scum. But they were deadly enough. The propaganda made them out as inferior; to him they were good pilots. To him they were prey. They gave him a type of joy when facing them in battle. They'd won though. That was the thing. Captured Kushans didn't look all that different, and weren't all that different. The one's he'd met weren't all that bad...just that they had extremely tanned skin...Kharak the desert world.

The world we burned. The world I helped burn.

I've seen everything, he mused...I saw Kharak. I destroyed the scaffold. I helped murder nearly 300 million. And they got their vengeance. The gods did it. They took my home world and gave it to them.

He disposed of his thoughts...Why! He'd been daydreaming /too/ much now. This was a volunteer mission, this raid. Testing Hiigaras defenses, seeing what new cards they had. He'd volunteered, just for old times sakes. He hated watching the Kushans take over like they were gods, and burning their freight ships wasn't fun. It was too easy. He wanted the thrill of the hunt.

Again he was dreaming...a red glare from his dashboard indicator. Enemy unit! Yes!

What kind of vessel….Kushan, Ion Cannon Frigate. Range: 500 meters.

He looked to the recorder mounted on his vessel, on the side, pressing the detach button, sending it twirling away into space, pressing the transmit button. All the information on Hiigaras defenses that he could acquire, on its way to TIF (Taiidan Imperial Forces, ((TIF acronym created previously by "Ben Tusi")).

The Taiidan carrier Immolator pounced from hyperspace.

A cruise missile , a relic from the wars of ages past, loaded with explosives slammed into the Ion Frigate. He jumped slightly out of his seat, restrained by the seat belt and sent back into his semi plush seat. The frigate turned, and subsequently began to burn.

Now! He hit the trigger button his joystick, the whole craft shuddering, the giant light energy cannon mounted on his left wing, and underneath him on the fuselage fired in alternating sequence, little red spheres flying and impacting into the target. Hull readings were critical. Time to fly.

He pulled up and switched to evasive, putting on speed as his wing mate strafed the ion cannon frigate. Both pulled away as the explosion illuminated their ships against the darkness of space. Out of nowhere ships began pouring out of hyperspace gates.

Soon...quite soon.

The Taiidan carrier R'shokk stood alone, seven Firelances making their way towards the carrier, spelling doom with a capital "D".

They already had acquired a reputation for destruction. But they did have one weakness. Fighters. Unfortunately this was the forte of a carrier.

The Taiidan carrier launched a full wing of 12 attack bombers and 3 interceptors, which sallied forth from the front hangar bay to meet the ion frigates, the interceptors weaving past the beams with agility and grace, the slower attack bombers closing in to 600 meters, going to evasive, and firing, plasma spheres launched and scoring hits against the ion frigates, causing scoring and burn marks, one cocky attack bomber pilot fires a plasma sphere into the ion cannon projector itself, exploding within the bowels of the frigate and sending it and its crew to the next world to be at peace, for all eternity.

'Jet sighed and quickly brought his interceptor around, barely missing the recently hyper spaced Kushan carrier. The thing reminded him of a Hiigaran leech-worm in a way. Eerie. Like a little flea biting a elephant he fired the energy cannons, speeding far ahead of the carrier, which began launching fighters. Turning he heads off towards a Destroyer, firing his weak energy cannons at the destroyer, doing nothing, but getting the attention of one of the projectile cannons, which clips part of a wing off. He emits a angry cry of rage, and accelerates, buzzing past the bridge of the destroyer, quickly whirling around 180, out of the destroyers firing arc, to deliver in on vengeance, firing several shots into the plasma vent thrust drive, inertia still propelling his craft backwards, flying backwards...he does not accelerate his craft, yet, waiting and waiting as the Kushan carrier launches its defenders towards another group of Taiidan interceptors, while sending a squadron of attack bombers out at the sole heavy cruiser.

Suddenly a flash, and a quantum waveform appears...what on...what the-who! He thought. Already the battlefield was getting crowded

He flicks on the comm and listens in, the decrypters working efficiently and giving him the complete message:

"This is the Kiith Somtaaw mining vessel Kuun-Lan, calling Kiith Nabaal carrier Veer-rak."

He cuts the connection and speeds his trusty Triikor up, joined up by 6 other interceptors in delta, plotting a intercept course to the Kuun-Lan.

Damned Nabaal bastards. They had managed to squeeze of a distress call. 2 minutes to intercept...this..Somtaaw, whoever the hell they were, would pay, dearly. He wanted a shot at the Mother ship Station, that cheap boomerang somewhere in orbit, alas, no time...this was a raid, not a full-blown assault.

Suddenly out of nowhere a fighter blazes past him, shredding his left wingman into bits of metal and flesh, his scream but a little sound in the void.

Damn, he thought...how the...

"All craft, switch to evasive and engage! Split into twos and engage hostiles!"

Finishing his statement he locks onto one of the craft, a weird looking thing with a dish on front, calmly depressing the trigger, just as the fighter begins maneuvers, his craft making a mechanical whirling sound as he follows, trying to get a lock before sending pulses of energy flying left and right, this new toy of the Somtaaw was incredibly maneuverable! Prey! Prey of the best...

Hehehe...now...soon.

Back on a Ryzil IV, his squadron's base, he had a specially modified interceptor, a Triikor Mk2 Custom; dual energy cannons mounted left and right, a enlarged light corvette size chassis, and a fuselage mounted "specialty".

But this was not Ryzil. Oh well...suddenly he pulls up and leave the new craft, but soon comes back down in a death dive, strafing and strafing before one of the energy spheres hits the cockpit, killing the pilot and destroying the weird looking toy.

He'd wasted enough time with this inferior machine. Onto the dual gunned craft with a tail.

No! They were attacking the attack bombers. No..

The nimble craft changed course and moved off to intercept, soon arriving and catching the attention of a Acolyte pilot by shooting to his right, then moving away, baiting the pilot.

When the pilot came he picked up speed and wove through the other Acolytes, using speed to pick off one Acolyte (to him unlucky, he thought), 3 more breaking off to pursue him. No way could he win again THREE.

What'd he done now? Idiot! You proud arrogant prig! NOW YOU WILL DIE BECAUSE OF YOUR PRIDE! He thought...novel way to die.

He looked over at the capital ships, pummeling each other in piles of scrap metal, giant cannons shuddering with each shot, the leviathans pounding away at each like something out of ancient naval history.

There was no thrill in capital ship battles. In the end it was a gun battle. In fighters, the best could pilot a decent fighter, and take out a top-of-the-line craft. Very much like his situation at this time.

He tried shaking the acolytes, no such luck. These pilots were good...quite. Kushans did not have these kind of pilots from training crèches...a veteran perhaps.

Pulling right he headed off towards a pre-set rally point, and proceeding to fire on a proximity sensor. Out of nowhere 5 multi gun corvettes took care of the acolyte problem.

His sensors began reading that the third Taiidan carrier had arrived and began mining resources. It had sent a flanking strike force and would take out one part of the sensor grid around Hiigara...already the sensor defense force had been snuffed out and reduced to ashes.

Looking over to the multi gunners he gave a thumbs up, and brought his fighter around, a quick high-g turn, and he was on his way.

No way in hell...the imperial fleet lay burning, the heavy cruiser spiraling, a eerie ly beautiful dance of death, plasma spumes materializing along the sides of the heavy armored leviathan, now burning from the numerous beatings the vessel was getting, from the Kushan fleet that moved around it, swarming the vessel, the ruby beams of its ion cannons dancing and waving back and forth, fires licking and burning away at the Kushan enemy, a Kushan destroyers rail guns rip through the giant craft amidships...all power failing, the vessel turning dark, the yellow-red ship's paint job ruined, the shiny surface pockmarked by scorches and hull breaches, fires left and right. They had lost. It was time to go. The fleet would hyperspace with or without them.

It's time...he thought. Even the most experienced, the best, the strongest, of all even they must experience defeat, for loss strengthens one just as victory. A defeat brings new learning, just like victory, so with each loss now, means less later. He picked up the comm.

"All strike craft, evasive and head back. They're going to leave with or without us; I don't want anybody left behind! Move! Move!"

The last carrier, the TIN Immortal Emperor had collected its resourcers, turned about and began heading away, the Kushan fleet satisfied with beating the last fighting essence from the heavy cruiser. Within a few minutes, one by one the Fiirkans, Triikors, and miscellany craft docked, landing on individual landing pads, maglevs moving them to the sides and clamping in place.

'jet pulled off his mask, slightly damp and sweaty. Opening the cockpit he emerged, legs slightly shaky, the rush just beginning to fade, climbing out from the ladder off the left side, his foot touching the hard metal deck, looking out into space from the cavernous craft bay, the trademark sound of the hyper drive, and the "blue square"...

A white flash. And that was all.