"Movement Options"
by Rylaa Lyssander - Criminal

Location: Blade Wings Pirate Outpost, Manaan System
Date: Selene 12, 4 ABY

***

"Alright, boys, let's make this one smooth," Rylaa Lyssander, leader of the pirate group Blade Wings, said to the five fighters around him.

They had been tracking the freighter in front of them for three days, trying to find the right time to strike. The freighter was a Mobquet Medium Freighter, a good size hauler for what they needed. Earlier scans indicated that it carried a variety of electronic devices that could be sold easily on any black market. If they were lucky, it might be carrying some contraband weapons as well.

The Mobquet had four quad-laser cannons mounted in rotary ball turrets, one on each side as well as dorsal and underbelly. Pretty good fighter defense. However, it was hampered by the fact the cutout sectors for the turrets were large and if you knew where they were, you could easily disable the large ship. Rylaa, of course, knew where they were.

On either side of the Getaway, Rylaa's highly modified Z-95 Headhunter, were a pair of salvaged Y-wings while behind him flew three more Headhunters. Waiting a half-parsec away was their pair of YT-1300 Corellian light freighters.

"Rooska, Bost...disable their engines. And be careful with those ion cannons, a hit to one of the cargo bays could disrupt the electronics we are trying to sell," he said.

After the pilots sent out their reply, the two Y-wings broke off. Each Y-wing had one pilot and one gunner. The gunner normally operated the Y-wing's pair of heavy blasters, but today they both were in charge of the dual ion cannon turret on top of the fighter. Several cyan blasts of energy later, and one Mobquet freighter was dead in space. The three Headhunters knew their job well, no communication was needed. When the freighter was disabled, take out the turrets.

"To whom it may concern, this is...uh...Major Lyssander of the Blade Wings, your engines are disabled and you are dead in space. Muster your crew on your bridge. Any resistance will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. If you have any men in your turrets, I highly recommend that you remove them." Rylaa's last statement was punctuated by the implosion of the dorsal quad. The other three, angered by the loss of their comrade, began to fire at the pirate ships.

"Crap! Why do they always resist?" Rylaa asked to no one in particular. "Not even a response, they just start firing at me. Well... their funeral." His astromech, Credit, chirped a short reply. "No no, of course I'm not going to kill all of them, just the ones in the guns... and maybe their captain for being an idiot. When was the last time you had a memory wipe?"

"Beep boop beep beep," the droid responded.

"Huh, you sure?"

"Beep."

"Alright, if you say so." Rylaa flipped open his comms to his squadron. "Take those damn turrets out, but try to minimize the damage, people, we want most of the ship intact. Blade-1, Blade-2, prepare for boarding ops. Weapons on stun, I don't want another incident like last month. The last thing we need is... WHOA!"

One of the gunners on board the Mobquet must have picked out his ship as something special because he soon had three streams of coherent energy coming at his fighter. Rylaa wasted no time, he hit the throttle to max power, making to 0.9 impulse in a scant fifteen seconds. He always found a high when flying like this. Danger bringing in its buddy adrenalin to kick everything up a notch. This was his element, while the world of crime was his gift, flying was what made it all worthwhile. He weaved between the crossfire of two turrets and rolled through the third without a scratch. The gunners on the larger ship tracked him with skill, but he evaded everything they threw at him.

"Is that all you've got!" he shouted over open comms.

The gunners didn't respond in the way he expected them to. The computer panel in front of him began to chirp as a large ship exited hyperspace. A capital ship to be exact. Rylaa's eyes bulged at the sight of the Victory class Star Destroyer that just appeared in front of him. The symbol of the Manaan Port Authority had been painted on the bridge section. This was not good, not good at all. The Manaan Port Authority was the police force for the three inhabited planets in the 8 planet system of Manaan. They primarily played the major shipping lanes in the system with their numerous corvette class ships, making sure that everything was safe. But occasionally, they called in their one capital ship for a major operation. Like trapping a pirate band operating out of their asteroid belt.

"Crap! Alright, boys, it's time to split! Get the hell out of here and meet up at the base." Rylaa didn't bother waiting for a response as he whipped his fighter into a tight S-turn and did what he always did in that situation. He ran like hell. Multiple contacts began to appear on his sensor display as Credit spit out astronavigational data. The Victory was launching fighters.

Rylaa checked his display, three minutes until he could safely jump out. Wonderful, he thought to himself. He could be dead in three minutes.

The Z-95 Headhunter was designed to be a counterpart for Incom's popular X-wing. It was fast, maneuverable, and even had a bit of cargo room. The Getaway, however, was a heavily modified version. The pair of fighter class blaster had been stripped off the wings and the concussion missile launchers had been removed. The wings had been strengthened and armored, while the fuselage had been elongated. All of this was necessary to put the huge LT-900 SuuroSub engine onto the ship. The four massive thrusters were almost as large as the fighter itself while the secondary thrusters took off the length of the wings.

In addition to this display of raw speed, the already decent shields of the ship were replaced by a newer model of Y-wing shields, almost doubling the standard strength. The drawback to this... the only weapon that could be placed on board was a heavy repeating blaster in the nose, which did barely enough damage to scratch your average fighter's shields. All this had enabled him to survive as long as he did.

One of the YT-1300s flashed briefly then disappeared as a fighter from the Star Destroyer found it. Within seconds two of his Headhunters also flashed and vanished. Three ships, twenty men, all gone. Rylaa cursed under his breath as he watched his people die. This was not what he wanted. His display chirped, two minutes until Hyperspace Jump. More and more contacts were appearing on his sensor screen now; he couldn't believe how many fighters this thing was launching! The other YT-1300 flashed and died. Another 17 men dead. This was too much for him, the pirate band was ruined and he needed to cut his losses and run.

"Credit, chart us a new course. Somewhere nice and free of the normal restraints. Somewhere far from here."

"Beep boop?"

"No, we aren't going home. Now find somewhere to go."

"Bleep chirp boop."

Rylaa had to look the readout for that one, while he spoke a little binary, that one was new. "Tae'Karada? What's there? Never mind. Let's just get going." Three minutes later, he was on his way to start over... again.

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