Search and Rescue

[Leos Palle]

Khomm, Pathfinder Outpost Reliant

Nej walked through the corridors, past the bunk room, past the mess, which was decidedly empty, and past the recreational facilities. Everything was empty, as it should be. He'd come from the central communications room, where he'd been given a new order. A personal one, but the others in his unit needed to be made aware of things before he went gallivanting off through the galactic expanse to wherever it was that he ended up. It wouldn't be fair to them to not know where he'd gone to, especially if something happened to him. The Pathfinders were a tight nit community within the Galactic Alliance and they took special care to ensure the safety of their own people.

He walked into the ready room to find the others already there and seated. At the forefront of the room was the man they called Senior. He was a senior officer in charge of the outpost, and as such was higher ranking than even Nej was, so he deferred to him, but as Senior was not a field operative, he at least had the respect of the man in charge.

"Senior," he said as he took his seat.

"Chief," the man replied before looking around the room. "Alright, as most of you know, these Sith dirtbags up around Bastion have been expanding their territory. Doesn't matter how or why, just matters that they have."

He keyed up a map of that quadrant of space.

"One of our intelligence operatives determined that several of them have made an incursion onto the world of Aphran. To our knowledge it's an uninhabited world, but there may be some vagrants that have set up shop there. That is doubtful as the cause for the Sith incursion. It's likely they're setting up a forward base or have discovered an un-mined resource and are attempting to take it.

"In order to better ascertain the situation, a fighter was sent in with reconnaissance gear. I can't tell you who it was or what they were flying, but we lost contact with that pilot two hours ago and they are deemed a high level asset. In order to minimize detection, a one man unit is being sent in to find the asset and bring them back, dead or alive. Chief Ecken has been assigned this task. Chief?"

He stood and moved to the front.

"Thanks, Senior," he said as he turned to the unit. "This is a high priority mission that was assigned to me and me only. I understand most of you will likely not want me to go it alone, but those are the orders. I'll be taken in on a two man fighter. The pilot will scan the system and if the asset is still in space we'll retrieve them via a waiting freighter. If not, the pilot will take me down to the planet and I'll begin searching for the asset, alerting the same freighter when I've found them. It's an in and out job, no breakage unless absolutely necessary. I'll be taking standard load out and travel gear. If I don't make radio contact once a day, one of you will be sent in after me. Any questions?"

Nobody said anything.

"Good. Dismissed. I've got a flight to catch."

[member="Naomi Carolina"]

 

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Nej Ecken"]

APHRAN

An electric shock woke the dazed pilot up. Hazel orbs snapped open and immediately watered and squinted red against the black smoke that was filling the mangled and gnarled cockpit. Fingers fumbled against the restraints. Lungs burned for pure oxygen. Grits, her BB8 unit razzled behind her.

Palm jammed against the droid release button then managed to tear herself free from the crash webbing. Pushing up on wobbly legs, Naomi pressed against the broken canopy of her x-wing as a fit of coughs raked her body. Shoulder jammed further down as she tried to use her petite body as leverage.

"C'mon," she spat, knowing [member="Adder"] and [member="Asmus Janes"] would never forgive her if she died like this. With a creaking scrape, the canopy finally budged just enough so she could scramble beneath the lip and into open air. Little did she know rescue was on the way. The teen always assumed if something went wrong on a SIS assignment, you were on your own.

 

[Leos Palle]

Nej felt a bit claustrophobic.

Flying through hyperspace in a two-seater wasn't his ideal means of transportation. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, and he doubted that it would be the last, but each time felt just like the first time: nauseating. A few pieces of plasteel or transparisteel or whatever was all that separated him from a cold, airless death. That didn't at all sound appealing. He closed his eyes and counted kills. Reliving, mentally, the horrors of war was much better than dealing with the reality he faced. Of course it had been quite the flight from Khomm to Aphran anyway. Now that they were arriving, he was certain that he was going to at least get out of the small ship soon in some way, shape or form.

As they breached into subspace hours after Naomi had crashed, they found themselves in a murky, emptiness. No visible ships in the immediate vicinity. Of course they had to fly by sublight into the system in order to get a read on things. Popping out of hyperspace right on top of the planet would have alerted any hostiles in the vicinity to their presence, making them a potential second target where there asset had been the first. Flying by sublight was much quicker in a fighter than in a capital craft, and they made good time. The pilot was running scans throughout, but he wasn't saying much.

"Anything?" Nej asked, squirming in his seat.

"Minor signs of debris, but that could just be drifting metal rocks. Nothing definitive. I'm not picking up any ship signatures, either. There are some signs of technology down on the planet."

Tech on the planet meant that someone was pushing things around down there. More than likely they were the ones responsible for the disappearance of their missing pilot. Ground based turbolaser perhaps? Maybe. More likely an ion blast that knocked it into an unstable orbit and caused it to crash. Or, the fighter had simply malfunctioned. Also possible.

"The faintest one. Take us in five klicks out from it. I'll take it from there."

"Copy."

The fighter raced in towards the planet, braving whatever danger they might face. If they had any luck, and the Force willed it, that weak signature would be some bit of tech on the assets craft that was still functioning, and he could make it on foot in a decent time. Any further luck and the pilot would be right there waiting for him and he could make this a quick and easy rescue mission. He doubted it would go that way. Luck rarely was on the side of the soldier unless explosives were involved. More than likely, if the pilot had crashed, they'd have moved out so as not to draw the attention of whomever was on the world, or whomever shot them down. That was the smart play.

But with fly kids it was hard to say whether they'd be that smart or not.

[member="Naomi Carolina"]

 

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Nej Ecken"]

The teen scrambled to the ground, her coughing almost as loud as the flames eating through her bird. Grits nudged into her side as her palms pressed flat against the grassy and dirt covered earth. Body-shook as she tried to expel the blackness coating her lungs.

"I'll....I'll be....o-okay, bud."

Another set of coughs raked through her form. Ash and small cuts covered her face. Behind parked it on the earth for a sec as she tipped her head back and took her in her surroundings. She'd crashed in a low hilly area. There was a line of trees to the East. That was her best bet. Here would be too exposed. Mind churned trying to remember what happened. She'd been hit from behind with no warning on sensors. She had no doubt whoever it was would be coming around soon.

Limping to a stand, hands ran down her non-descript flightsuit. She only had a blaster. It would have to be good enough. Intel was in her pocket. "See if you can find a satellite station or comm-center."

Grits warbled and booped.

"Yeah I can walk." She took a limping step forward. "Just. Let's get to those trees. Find the station."

Booted feet limped forward. She frowned, catching the sound of approaching speeders on the wind.

 

[Leos Palle]

"There's some comm chatter out there. It's encrypted, though. Definitely not ours."

So someone was indeed out there. Likely they were now hunting for their downed pilot, which meant he was going to be in a time crunch if he didn't get his butt into gear. In all likelihood, when he arrived at the downed fighter, if indeed that was what the sensors had picked up, he'd have to deal with some grunts. Fortunately he'd packed enough gear to deal with tango's as long as he wasn't facing a whole army. If he was, he knew methods to use terrain to his advantage, and could wage a war native style. He didn't give up on a mission. He either completed it, or he'd die trying. Which, since he wasn't dead, meant he'd never failed a mission so far, and he'd been on more than he could even remember.

The fighter drifted down to a small clearing and the pilot opened the hatch. He stood, swung his legs over the side to the foot holds, and grabbed his pack which he tossed down. He followed after it before using the fighter's emergency hatch to grab the rest of his gear, including Betsy, his heavy repeater. When he'd slung everything onto himself, and rested Betsy in his arms, he moved far enough away that his pilot could see him, and then turned to trot into the woods in the direction of the electrical signals. The pilot lifted off, and made for space, leaving him there alone, with the knowledge that whomever was hunting his target would likely also be hunting him now.

The forest was dense, and he worked it to his advantage, pausing every so often to double check bearings and listen for any unusual sounds. He moved quietly, and he kept to the trees, even going around large fields if he could do so. When he couldn't, because of unconnected woods, he kept low to the ground and made his way across without stopping. At least his camo was suited for the woods and fields of the world he was on. Now he just had to hope that their pilot was still alive, and didn't get captured.

He double tapped his comm, sending a signal across the line just to make sure it was reading. He got static back, so he moved onward, ever in the direction of Naomi's fighter.

[member="Naomi Carolina"]

 

[Naomi Carolina]

[member="Nej Ecken"]

The red-headed teen made it to the tree line when the roar of speeders reached its peak. She threw herself into the long grass of the field. "Down!" She whispered to her BB8 into. Grits tooted softly, its domed head peeking cautiously behind an overgrown push.

Hazels peeks cautiously through the grass. Looked like a gang. Five, maybe six in some kind of uniform. Fingers trailed down her thigh, unholstering her blaster. Grits booped. "Yeah I see it. Looks like a lightsaber hilt on one. What do you mean you keep getting a signal from behind us?"

Looked like the soldiers, gang were arguing. A few were poking around her crash site. Luckily, she'd wiped the drives so they'd get nothing on the Alliance. Naomi began inching backward, closer toward the trees on her belly. Teeth bit down on her fist as a sharp pain sizzled up her injured leg.

Head lifted slightly, seeing two of the figures straddle their bikes and heading in her direction.

Feth. Feth. Feth.