Jokers Wild

[Karmack]

Preface: Orders

****  EYES ONLY CMDR MSS HORNET AND CAG MSS HORNET  ****
****                                  TOP SECRET                                   ****
****                DEPLOYMENT ORDERS MSS HORNET                 ****
****                DEPLOYMENT ORDERS JOKER SQDRN               ****

TO: Lt. COL Er'Wyn Nath, CAPTAIN; Major B'Lain Throwd, CAG
FROM: Secretary of Defense Silman Lo.

Sirs,

You are hereby directed and required to suspend training operations and proceed to the Al'Nasrl sector to the port of Syvris.  Once there you will make contact with the Mak'Tor healing clinic in the port and determine what security needs they may have that you are in a position to render.  Further, you will meet with Glonar D'Kev and establish a liason with him and his organization.  Location and method of contact are in the attached Appendix A [ENCRYPTED].  Once contact is made and satisfactory communications protocols are established the HORNET and VF-2 will proceed to patrol station along the Triellus Run and conduct anti-piracy and anti-slavery patrols.  Detailed information on expected shipping, slaver ships and known pirate activity are attached in Appendix B [ECRYPTED].

Good luck and good hunting.

Kage Silman Lo
Minister of Defense.  ksl

****  MESSAGE ENDS  ****

[Lord_S_Gray]

Love it! What a different take to get the ball rolling. Reminds me of mystery novels for teens that had special letters and documents in then as pull outs or in pop out envelopes!

[TheDutchman]

Agreed LSG!  It also is evocative of the early Tom Clancy novels I read as a kid 

I'm wondering what Kage Lo is doing exactly, sending Joker Squadron out as a preemptive strike force...

Well, I'm already hooked Karm!

[Karmack]

Chapter One: First Contact

Major B'Lain'Throwd sat at his bridge station on the Hornet as the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace collapsed and gave way to the star-streaks of emergence.  The carrier glided effortlessly through space, their emergence unremarked as the helmsman made a subtle adjustment and brought the ship's sub-light engines to full power for their approach to Syvris.  In the distance, still just a speck, was the moon itself, the shadowport not yet visible from their position.  A quick glance at the board showed the ready flihgt - Silver Flight, in this case - all in the green and ready to launch on a moment's notice if there were trouble.  The rest of the squadron was at "plus five" state, the ships prepped and ready, droids and pilots standing by.  He was no exception, suited up in his flight suite rather than the more comfortable ship-board uniform the rest of the crew wore. 

The Captain, Lt. Colonel Er'Wyn'Nath was in his "thinking pose" - sitting back in his command chair, arms crossed across his chest, right hand idly stroking his short beard while he studied the forward viewer intently.  The Captain was going gray and kept his hair cropped neat and short to keep the salt-and-pepper in check.  The Shadow Port on the moon Syvris had long been a haven for smugglers and so-called "free traders", a literal hotbed of thieves and villany. That had all ended two years earlier, when Darth Vader led his Death Squadron in a raid on the Shadowport, capturing or killing most of the chief smugglers and virtually wiping out the port faclities.  In the aftermath of the raid, which came because the smugglers were moving supplies for the Rebel Alliance, the Mak'Tor had sent a small relief force to aid the destitute survivors in recovering and rebuilding.

Since then the port had recovered some of its former glory - and infamy - but no where near its capacity.  Still, it was utterly lawless and a place one approached only with caution.  The Captain abandoned his pose and turned to the communications officer.  "Hail the outpost on the primary channel.  Use the Mak'Tor code Kage Lo provided."

"Aye." The comm officer had the hail prepared and with a few keystrokes the encrypted message was winging its way through space to the distant port.  "Message away."

"And now we wait." Nath swivelled to face his CAG.  "So, Blain, are you ready for this?"

"Jokers are wild, sir." Blain answered with a smile.  "Once we get an acknowledgement we'll launch.  Lt. Naith will take the Major down in her bird.  With your permission, ma'am?"  He nodded to Major El'Lynn'Mack, the ship's XO and the only other Knight aboard the ship.  Like the second lieutenant, Major Mack was a Knight and an Armsman.  By law the Armsman's oath overrode even the Knight's oaths of loyalty to the Mak'Tor order, but in practice having the Mak'Tor Kage as the Defense Minister tended to negate the two oaths from coming into conflict. 

Major Mack smiled and nodded.  "Lt. Naith is an acceptable pilot, Blain.  It will make Koawan Sif'an'Cam more comfortable as well, I think, and hopefully free her tongue on what she really wants and needs for security here."

Nath nodded, back in his thinking pose.  "Very good.  Go ahead and make your preparations, Elynn.  Assuming the Mak'Tor mission is on their toes we should be getting a response in ... seven minutes.  I want to launch immediately."

"Yes sir." Elynn replied.  She locked down her station and left the bridge, headed toward the flight deck.

B'Lain keyed his headest live and opened a channel to the flight deck.  "Joker One to Joker Nine."

"Go One."

"XO is headed your way, Jan.  Get her down safe and watch your backs, you hear?"

"You got it, One." Jan replied and cut the channel.  B'Lain smiled.  Two Mak'Tor Knights in the Shadow port, both women, alone.  Maker, I wish I could be there to see it!

<<<<<<<<   >>>>>>>>>>>

The man approaching actually looked nice.  His clothes were clean and neat, his hair in place, and he didn't reak of alcohol or drugs.  Despite this and the smooth look on his face he, like the previous dozen or so men who'd approached them on their short walk from their landing pad, simply radiated lechery in the force.  The Major sighed.  "Your turn, Lieutenant."

"Ma'am" Jan'a replied.  She didn't give this one a chance even to speak.  As his mouth opened to begin his proposition, she simply raised a finger.  Reaching into his mind, she said.  "Go home to your wife.  Be satisfied."

The man blinked twice and his mouth closed with a snap.  He suddenly looked around nervously, mumbled an apology, and walked away with a purposeful step. 

El'Lynn grinned.  "Nice one.  Bit of a risk, though.  How did you..."

"Wedding band on his left finger.  That plus his overall look suggested one of the few well-off types around here 'slumming' and looking for something on the side.  Kinda made me mad, actually."  The younger woman wrinkled her nose a bit.  "Not sure I actually did his wife any favors."

"You will have if it sticks." El'Lynn replied.  "We should be getting close.  The clinic is on this street, very near the port." She scanned the addresses as they walked, chuckling as yet another drunk man rose to address them, only to fall unconscious in his advanced inebriation.  "I just wish I knew what we're doing to attract so much attention?  Its not like we're dressed for a night on the town, after all."  She indicated her flight suit, identical to her pilot's.  The Men-At-Arms pilots wore a loose-fitting flight suite made of light-gray "second skin" nano-tech smart-fabric that allowed survival in virtually any environment including the vacuum of space for a minimum of eight hours.  With a fully operational ejection pack, a pilot forced to eject in space could expect to survive for up to 48 hours before running out of breathable air.  The suite was striped with reflective strips of high-vis yellow and carried no insignia or markings.  Large cargo pockets carried - and concealed - their DL-44 blasters as well as the women's light sabers.  While there was nothing visible to mark them out as anything special, the suites were baggy and generally formless, and far from flattering.  Yet it had taken the first man - a drunk dock worker - less than twenty seconds to proposition them once they left the landing pad, and there had been a steady stream of offers from all types of men since they left their fighter with Blue.

"You're women.  There are twelve men to each woman in this place.  A pretty face is more than enough." The individual, wrapped in a hooded gray cloak, emerged from the shadow of a doorway and spoke with a smooth - and feminine - contralto voice.  "Major Mack, I presume?"

El'Lynn stepped forward slightly. "I am.  Koawan Cam?"

The gray form bowed in acknowlegement, and delicate hands rose to push back the cowel, revealing a thin face with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes framed by flowing amber tresses.  "At your service, Mistress Mack."

El'Lynn returned the bow and waved Jan'a forward.  "Koawan Cam, may I introduce my companion, Lieutenant Jan'a'Naith."  Jan'a stepped forward and traded greetings with the Koawan, who turned her eyes back to El'Lynn. 

"It is good to meet you both.  Please, come in."  The Koawan turned and led them back through the portal from which she'd appeared, El'Lynn and Jan'a close on her heals. 

A battered-looking blast door opened smoothly before them and it was as if they'd teleported.  The area outside could only charitably be called a neighborhood.  Most would call it a slum, and it looked the part with dusty, dirty streets and decayed and decrepit buildings.  But once inside...  The walls were clean and brightly colored, the corridors were well lit and there were plants and natural light everywhere.  Koawan Cam shed her outer robe, revealing the light gray robes of a Mak'Tor Knight as she led them across an airy and inviting atrium and into an equally comfortable, if small, office.  "Please, sit." She said, indicating comfortable chairs. 

"Thank you." El'Lynn replied as the three women sat down.  "So, Koawan Cam, as you know the Kage has sent us out to patrol this area, and we wanted to make a courtesy call and find out what we can do to enhance your security here on Syvris."

The Koawan leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled, and regarded the pair.  "So... Now we're worried about security.  I've been pestering the Chiefs for more patrols for months, and then one of Silman's pets gets kidnapped..."  She cut herself off, blew out a sigh, and smiled.  "Sorry.  Just a little frustration.  But you're here now.  What do we need?  Basically we need our supply lines to be secure.  With good supply, we can keep to ourselves and keep our heads down.  The Houses that were hit by Mellichae were located because they were out in the public eye trying to acquire medical supplies to keep their Houses open.  In fact three of the five raids were conducted on small parties that were following up on offers of support.  If you can keep the pirates away from my supplies I can handle anything else locally."

El'Lynn nodded.  "I think we can do that.  Our primary mission is piracy suppression along the trade routes.  Is there anything else you need?"

"Just a heads-up if anything unusual or threatening happens." She gave El'Lynn a very level look.  "Another expedition by your cousin, for example."

El'Lynn managed to keep her face impassive at the dig.  "I am assuming you mean Meanowan Master Ka'A'Mack?"  The Koawan nodded slightly.  "I'll ... do my best to keep you informed.  The Meanowan Master doesn't necessarily answer to Central Command."

"From where I sit the Maenowan doesn't answer to anyone." Koawan Cam shot back, making no real effort to hide her dislike.  "In fact, he doesn't seem to answer to anyone at all."

"Master Karmack is a good man!  He's just trying to keep the Mak'Tor and M'Tzigon safe!" Jan'a blurted out.  "Why would you say such things about him?"

Koawan Cam shook her head.  "I have no doubt his intentions are good.  But the Mak'Tor have existed in relative peace and safety for six hundred years by being discrete and indescript.  The wisdom of this was proven when the Emperor launched the Jedi Purge - and the Mak'Tor were virtually untouched.  But Master Karmack's recent high-profile missions have drawn attention to both himself and the Mak'Tor as a whole.  We are no longer safely anonmymous.  And he's made enemies.  While I appreciate his efforts to safeguard our Order, I would have preferred if he would simply have left well-enough alone.  So, if he decides to do something again..."  She sat back, leaving the thought lingering.

Jan'a started to respond again but El'Lynn gently squeezed her knee, silencing her.  "We will of course pass on any news we can, Koawan.  Until then, if you have any further supply problems please let us know."
l
"Of course." Koawan Cam seemed to relax slightly at El'Lynn's concillatory tone.  "Now, may I offer you any refreshment?"

El'Lynn rose and smiled.  "No, I am afraid we must be going.  We have ... another appointment to keep before we depart."

"Oh?"  The Koawen's eyebrows rose.  "Anything I should know about?"

El'Lynn smiled a cold smile.  "Not if you're intent on keeping your head down."  El'Lynn saw the Koawen's eyes harden and she relented a bit.  "Honestly it is need-to-know, but I'll do what I can to have you read in."

The Koawan was obviously not happy with her answer, but she nodded her acceptance.  "Very well.  Walk in harmony, Major."

"Walk in harmony, Koawan." El'Lynn replied.  She and Jan'a bowed respectfully and left, showing themselves out.

Once they were back in the street Jan'a commented angrily.  "Of all the nerve..."

El'Lynn stilled the younger Knight. "Calm.  She as reason to be angry ... and suspicious.  No sense getting angry with her over it."

"As you wish, ma'am." Jan'a replied.  "Are you going to try to get her more information about our ... other mission?"

El'Lynn looked around speculatively before nodding.  "Yes.  The odds of the two missions overlapping are small but real.  She deserves to know about the possible threat.  Speaking of which..."  She pulled out her datapad and consulted the encrypted file loaded to it.  "We've got about an hour to make our next appointment. I want to give the site a look before then.  Lets get moving..."

<<<<<<<<   >>>>>>>>>>>


The 'cantina' was in a marginally nicer part of the port than the Mak'Tor Healing House, but that only made it more dangerous.  No one in the slums had anything worth stealing nor any money to buy anything with, so the area was generally devoid of thieves and hustlers.  This area, however, was a much more active "red light district".  The frequency of approaches had eased somewhat as well as there were many 'appropriately dressed' professional girls about to draw potential suitor's attention away.  Still as they sat at the main bar with untouched drinks they were accosted by the occasional inquiry from the men patronizing the place.

"No, I don't want to see your Correllian cruiser." Jan'a snapped at the latest attempt, and El'Lynn covered a smile by lifting her drink and pretending to take a sip.  The liquer was dark amber and was so raw that she suspected it would make an excellent paint stripper, whatever it may taste like. 

The soft, smooth voice that invaded her left ear, opposite Jan'a, took her by surprise. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a gin-joint like this?"

El'Lynn started slightly but managed not to spill her drink.  A quick look in the dirty mirror revealed a sight she had not expected: a besilisk in what she could only call a "buckaneer" outfit, complete with blue suede, four-armed jacket with gold piping and white pants with a brilliant crimson sash.  The besalisk's crest was colored crimson to match his sash and his left eye was covered by a black eye-patch.  El'Lynn took this all in within a moment before turning with a brillian smile.  "Just looking for trouble.  You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?"

"Intimately." The Besalisk replied, giving her an openly lacivious look.  "I'd be happy to introduce you."

El'Lynn let her smile broaden and completed the code phrases.  "I'd be happy to be introduced."  She nudged Jan'a as the Besalisk smiled broadly and gestured for them to follow him.  The women abandoned their drinks on the bar and followed the garishly dressed alien to the back of the bar and through a door which led to private "entertainment" rooms.  He continued to grin lecherously as they preceded him into the room.  Once the door closed one of his hands shot up making a "shush" gesture while his lower pair of hands extracted a small device from within his sash.  With a deft twist the device was activated and filled the room with a hum which climbed quickly in pitch until it was out of aural range.  After several more seconds the light on the box went from red to green and the besalisk let out a long breath.  "Good."  He set the device down and extended a hand to each of them.  "I am Glonar D'Kev of the Sons of Kessel.  You must be Major El'Lynn'Mack and Lieutenant Jan'a'Naith of the M'Tzigon Confederation Men-at-Arms."

The women accepted the hand-shakes.  "You are well informed, Master D'Kev." El'Lynn replied.  "When the contact documents said to expect a flamboyantly dressed free trader' I must admit I didn't expect ... this." She indicated his bright clothing.

The Besalisk laughed.  "Its amazing.  The best way to stay hidden in this place is to dress like a peacock and act like a buffoon.  These thieves and slavers all think I'm one of them.  In fact, they probably think I'm 'assessing merchandise' right now.  I expect several purchase orders when we leave."  He waved a hand dismissively.  "But time is short.  Scrubber has informed me of your mission.  I have communications protocols and encryption algorithsm for your ship.  There are several small operations in the works in this area.  I will be in touch soon with more details and any requests for support."

El'Lynn took the data crystal from the Besalisk.  "Very well.  Now, how do we get out of here without becoming "Merchandise"?"

The Besalisk grinned wide again.  "Right this way, ma'am."  he said, gesturing toward the back of the room.  He picked up the device on the table and pressed a certain place ... and a small door opened up.  "Go through there, and quick.  The tunnel will open on the street right outside the port."

El'Lynn nodded and ducked into the tunnel, followed by Jan'a.  As the door closed behind them small lights came on, lighting the way.  "Well, lets go."

Ten minutes of walking and a quick dash later, and they were back at the port and boarding Jan'a's fighter.  Neither woman said anything until they were clear of the atmosphere and well on their way back to the Essex.  Jan'a broke the silence. 

"Well.  That was ... interesting."

El'Lynn nodded, still deep in thought.  "Yes, it was.  I just hope your Kage knew what he was doing when he committed us to this mission."  And that we don't get killed finding out he didn't...

[TheDutchman]

I remember hearing that Lucasfilm was going to produce a SW TV show focusing on smugglers, thieves, and other Underworld components.  It all came to nothing last I'd heard...but what you've introduced to us is wonderful and (what I would consider) the "spiritual successor" to such!  Seriously, THIS is the perfect tone for that genre!  Well done my friend!

I hope we hear more from El'Lynn and Jan'a (BTW I love Mak'Tor naming conventions) as they seem to be excellent additions to the Mak'Tor cast!  And now, we also see some of the results of the alliance with the Unchained.  I am eager to see where the can take us 

Great job Karm! 

[Lord_S_Gray]

As Dutch Said, a different spin for sure, a little more 'real' world.
Loved this line! -
The best way to stay hidden in this place is to dress like a peacock and act like a buffoon
Also quite liked Cam's points, Karmack doesn't operate in a vacuum, every action reverberates across the galaxy...its interesting to seehow low level in terms of hierarchy the resentment has gone.  Looks like the Sons are getting some help though...so in that sense feels like a successor to gray and unchiaied, also in the more ground level operations, blasters and grenades rather than crystals and magic.

[Karmack]

Chapter Two: Friend or Foe


"All Jokers, Joker One.  Formation Delta-two.  Gold high.  Execute."  B'Lain watched as Joker flight shifted smoothly into formation.  Delta-two was a large triangle, with each flihgt of four at one point.  "Gold high" put his own Gold flight above the other two and version two had them forward as well, so his flight of four ARC-170's were now above and in front, with a supporting flight of four behind and below them on the right and left.

Ahead of them the evidence of battle were just coming into visual range.  The bulk freighter seemed to hang in space, slow-moving and ponderous, but it was putting out a far larger volume of fire than one might expect.  Around it a half-dozen specks of fire danced, avoiding the freighter's fire and hammering back with ion bolts whenever they could line up a shot.

"This is the SS Cohen calling Mayday.  We are under attack by pirates and require assistance!  Anyone in range, please respond..." the automated message was cycling through the civilian and military bands, repeating the freighter's call for help.  From behind him the Hornet's comm officer continued to respond, but thus far the crew of the freighter - the Cohen, apparently - had failed to acknowledge them.

In their defense, they did seem to be a bit preoccupied...

B'Lain toggled his own transmitter.  "Eagle this is Joker One, we have a visual on the frieghter and it is under attack.  We are closing to assist."

"Eagle confirms.  We are at maximum thrust and right behind you.  We should be on station in zero-seven mikes.  Jokers wild."

"Understood Jokers are wild." B'Lain responded.  He toggled the squadron frequency.  "Heads up Jokers.  Weapons free, but keep an eye on your IFF.  We still don't know who's who, lets not compound an error by blowing someone away we might later wish we hadn't."

A chorus of confirmations came back and B'Lain checked his own tactical computer: Two minutes to engagement range.  That meant they had to stay alive five minutes before the Hornet closed up and joined them.  Almost no time at all in most cases, but in combat...

Five minutes was an eternity.

"Jokers, keep up your scanning.  As soon as anyone has a visual or ID on the bogies sing out."

********

"Joker seven to Joker five: Boss, I have eyes on what looks like a Skip-Ray blast boat, closing from nine o'clock low."

Jace overrode his sensor array's scan pattern and trained out low and left.  His screen immediately lit up with four blips colored yellow for "unknown".  "Good eye, Coleson."  He toggled to the command loop.  "Joker 5 to Joker 1: Eyes on four bogeys, ID Skip-ray blast boats, coming in fast and hot..."  His screen blinked as the icons changed from yellow to red, the vector data indicating more speed and a new course.  "Scratch that, one!  Bogeys have turned to engage us and are showing hostile!"

B'Lain's head snapped around and he made visual contact on the Skip-rays.  "Understood.  Joker Silver, break and engage.  Bronze, close up on my lead, low trail position."  B'Lain turned back to the primary target, now less than a minute away.  He could see the specks of the fighters dancing around the freighter but still no ID on them.  "C'mon...  Make an ID..."

********

"Roger One.  Silver Wild." Jace activated his flight link.  "Silver, form on me.  Silver is wild!"

"Rog-o!"
"Roger"
"Roger-roger"

Jace screamed into the turn, his flight in a tight diamond formation.  "Silver, take 'em head-on and break with your target.  Shields double-front."

Space between the two formations suddenly erupted in color as red, blue and green bolts slammed back and forth between them.  The augmented shields of the Mak'Tor ARC fighters held, allowing the heavy fighters to survive and close.  At 1000 meters the Skip-Ray blast boats suddenly broke formation, scattering on independant courses.  The Mak'Tor fighters followed suite, each fighter taking one of the boats as his target.

The pursuit - it was no longer a battle - didn't last long as the faster fighters overhauled their targets and took them out one by one.

"Joker Seven - splash one!"
"JOker Six - splash one target!"
"Joker Eight - target destroyed."

Jace, on their leader, pulled a series of high-gee yo-yos and barrel rolls as the boat dodged and jinxed.  Unlike the other three the pilot didn't just try to run flat-out, instead using his lower speed to his advantage, combining crash thrust reversals with hard turns in an effort to force Jace to over-shoot.  But Jace didn't budge, using his own bag of tricks to maintain his trail position until...

Energy erupted from the fighter's cannons and Jace relaxed.  "Joker Five, target destroyed.  All targets destroyed.  Silver flight form on me.  Tight diamond formation.  Lets get see if we can help Gold and Bronze."

The four fighters reformed, leaving spreading clouds of debris behind them.  Jace settled on course and took a moment to isolate a close image he'd gotten of his target.  The picture was grainy, but detailed enough for his needs.  "Five to One: Skip, be advised, the Skip Rays were carrying Black Suns markings.  Say again: The Skip-Rays belonged to the Black Suns."

********

B'Lain suppressed the urge to curse.  "Black Suns.  Joy...."  His tactical display showed Silver flight trailing them, they would arrive about the same time as the Hornet.  They were very close now...  "Jokers Gold and Bronze - tactical spread!  Ion cannons only, drive a wedge between the fighters and the freighter.  I want good IDs on SOMEONE before we start..." He paused as his tactical display suddenly changed again - the six yellow sparks of the attacking fighters suddenly turning the friendly blue of allied units.  "What the ..."

"Joker flight, this is Xanadu Black." a gravelly voice announced in his headset.  "I declare Wilberforce.  Say again: Wilberforce."

B'Lain punched the recognition chart and scanned down the list.  "I copy Wilberforce.  Counter: Tubman."

There was a pause, then the voice came back with a far friendlier tone.  "Copy Tubman.  Welcome to the party Joker."

"Jokers are wild." B'Lain replied.  "Care to illuminate the situation, Xanadu?"

"This bulk freighter is hauling mainly food and water but there are also forty-seven slaves on board, headed for the mines and brothels of Unagin and Hollastin." Xanadu replied.  "We're trying to stop it now, to board it and liberate our fellows."

B'Lain nodded.  "Understood."  He switched frequencies.  "Jokers, new target.  The freighter is a slaver.  Target weapons and drives, Ion cannons only.  Engage." The new ARC-170-MXZs had a pair of ion cannons in the nose, supplementing the heavy laser cannons in the wings.  B'Lain broke off, cleared the space around him, made sure he had ion cannons selected, and dove in, lining up on one of the defensive cannon emplacements.  He fired, raking the site and silencing the guns, then shifted targets and took out a reaction thruster quad before pulling out and rolling away.

The other pilots of Joker flight had similar success, making short work of the freighter's drive and defensive fire.  "Target neutralized, Xanadu." B'Lain called as the last red spark died and the freighter went fully ballistic.  "Eagle is one minute out, boarding party is standing by."

"Joker, Xanadu, no need.  We have assault shuttles on the way.  We can handle it from here."

B'Lain grinned.  "Negative Xanadu.  My Captain is worried that the crew may decide to ... dispose of the cargo.  He has boarders launching now.  Don't worry, we will turn the ship, crew and cargo over to you when your boarding parties arrive."

Xanadu - B'Lain could now clearly see the gaggle of Tie Avengers in a loose formation nearby - wasn't happy but he simply sighed.  "Very well, Joker.  I will relay to our boarders and inform you when they arrive.  Xanadu out."

B'Lain smiled.  "You bet, Xanaxu.  Joker Out."

********

"Aurek-3 through -12, secure the bay." Ziach'ch said as he stepped down the shuttle's ramp.  "The rest o' y' hold here and wait fer orders!" The scarred Besalisk roared his orders before coming to a stop at the bottom of the ramp.  "Well, now, isn't that a site fer sore eyes..."

Along the edge of the bay were two rows of men, crew and officers, kneeling with their hands on the heads.  They were being covered by a trio of Men-At-Arms in standard Marine uniforms.  Another pair of officers with holstered side-arms smiled and came to attention, saluting the bemused Sons operative.  "Master Ziach'ch!  Welcome aboard.  I am Warrent Ja'Ay'Cam of the M'Tzigon Men-At-Arms.  My men have control of the ship and have made repairs to her drive and navigation systems.  We stand ready to turn her over to you, sir."

Ziach'ch waved a sketchy salute back at the crisp young officer.  "Thank ye, sir.  To what do we owe the pleasure of this ... assistance?"

The two officers share a sideways glance before the second, older officer spoke.  "Tell Scrubber that the Mak'Tor and Men-At-Arms are happy to help with Wilberforce ... and that Jokers are wild."

Ziach'ch grinned and nodded, his good eye gleaming.  "I will pass that along, Mister...?"

"Blain."

[Illyiss]

Well written and paced, and such a fun way to surprise the change of scene from what initially looked like a case of help the freighter, to a case of hunt the slavers.  Interesting how apparently the word may or may not have already spread to all of the Sons about the assistance agreement.

[Lord_S_Gray]

Yeah lets pick a fight with the Black Sun (or someone who want you to think they are the Black Sun...) I'm sure Scrubber and Zaich'ch (an their other friends?) will appreciate the help (even if they don't get to space the crew....) just how extensive is this Operation Wilberforce I wonder....

[TheDutchman]

Karm, you write the best military scenes, the space battles, the ship-to-ship dogfighting, the banter all perfect!

I'm getting to know the Jokers better and I've got to say: more please!  These guys aren't your "rank and file" but are extremely enjoyable to read about, especially as they hook up with more of the Sons contingents (speaking of: seeing Ziac'ch was a treat!)

Now I'm wondering what Kage Lo's endgame is here, certainly it has much more to do than supplementing the Sons in his sector... Well, I'm hoping that we'll find out soon 

Keep 'em coming Karm!  Loving the Jokers 

[Karmack]

Chapter Three: Search and Rescue


Jace was sitting in the wardroom, his side-arm broken down on a cloth while he polished carbon scoring from the power feed contacts.  He looked up as Jan and the XO entered the compartment.  The two women, sweat-soaked and flush from a work-out, wandered over.  "Jace, your gun is broken!"

"No joke..." Jace said, concentrating on cleaning the contacts.  "The Master-At-Arms had a firing range set up in our bay for my flight to update our qualifications, and one of my power packs malfunctioned.  Just about burned my hand with the waste heat and it did a number on these contacts.  But, with a little borax, a little Hoppies #9 and some elbow grease..." Jace gave the power coupler a final swipe and lifted it for inspection.  "There!  Good as new!"

While Jen inspected the coupler El'Lynn was giving the rest of the components a closer look.  "Jace, is that a Blastek A180?"

Jace beamed.  "Yes ma'am.  The CAG gave me permission to carry it instead of the DL-44 as long as I could qualify with it on standard, stun and ion settings."  Jace displayed his qualification badge.  "Just made it, even with the malfunction."

El'Lynn laid the trigger assembly back down and imparted a smile on the pilot.  "Well done.  You wouldn't happen to know if they have any mid-rats laid out?"

"Just some sandwiches.  Cold cuts and cheese, I think." Jace replied.  He recovered the power coupling from Jan and waved them on.  "I'm sure cookie will be glad of customers.  He's been popping out every few minutes trying to entice someone into ordering."

"Well, lets not disappoint the Chief then.  Jan?"  El'Lynn replied.

Jan wiped her brow.  "No, thanks.  I'm just gonna grab a protein shake and park for a minute."

"Suit yourself.  See you on the bridge for the swing shift."

"Aye-aye, Ma'am." Jan replied, collapsing into a chair.  "Oy...  Jace, what have I done?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Lieutenant." Jace replied.  "Perhaps if you would elaborate...?"

Jan crossed her arms on the table and rested her chin on her wrists.  "Ellen asked me for a sparring match."

Jace looked up from his examination of the part.  "And?"

Jan threw up her hands emphatically.  "And I agreed!  How could I be such an idiot..."

Jace set the power coupling down and leaned back.  "And she kicked your butt?"

"No!" Jan blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.  "She's pretty good, but you could tell she was rusty.  Not at all what I expected from someone trained in the Mack clan salles..."

Jace was unmoved.  "So, what's the problem?"

Jan's  eyes widened in surprise.  "Jace, she's a Mack!  Worse she's also a superior officer.  I can't very well start telling her what to do, how to improve..."

Jace let his eyes narrow a bit.  "Why not?"

Jan nearly squeeked.  "Why not?  How can you say that?  Don't you know who she is?  Who her cousin is?"

Jace snorted.  "If you mean Meanowan Ka'A'Mack, yes, I know who he is.  But that doesn't matter."  Jace leaned forward, his demeanor intent.  "Jan, why do you think the XO asked you for a match?"

"Umm..." Jan blinked.  "I ... don't know.  I hadn't really thought about it.  Maybe because there's no one else..."

"...to spar with." Jace finished for her.  "Which would mean?"

Jan blinked again.  "That she's rusty ... out of practice..."

Jace nodded.  "Exactly.  Now think: If you had to spend a long period of time away from your bird, would you be offended if one of your flight officers pointed out mistakes you made while you were working back up?"

Jan sat and stared while her mind worked.  "Well ... no.  Not at all.  In fact, I would expect it."

Jace sat back again, arms crossed now and a grin on his face.  "Exactly.  And Major Mack expects the same from you, Lieutenant."

Jan was nodding now.  "Ok...  OK.  But ... how should I go about it?"

Jace's face nearly split now.  "Oh, that's easy.  Kick her butt."

Jan saw the light dancing in her superior's eyes and her own grin grew.  "Aye-aye, sir."

Jace gathered his parts and quickly re-assembled his blaster.  "There, good as new..."  He re-holstered it and nodded at Jan's saber.  "So, you any good with that thing?"

Jan laughed.  "Well, if you'd like a demonstration..."

The wail of the GQ alarm cut her off.  "General Quarters!  General Quarters!  Pilots to the ready room!"

Jace and Jan were out of the ward room and down the hall before the last word was spoken.

****

"This was received seven minutes ago." B'Lain said to the assembled pilots.  A couple stood in the back, still pulling on flight gear, but all of them had been in the room less than three minutes after the alarm had rung.  These are good people I have here...  He depressed the key on his podium, activating the recording.

"Th... Xanadu seven.  We are twelv...of Dubrava.  Heavy casualties.  We need assistance ... punching out everywhere, not sure how we can track them all down..." the recording dropped off into static.

B'Lain turned back to the room.  "Based on signal strength and direction Tactical places them at this juntion." B'Lain activated a holomap of the space between Syvris and Dubrava.  There was a blinking carat marking common way-point abot half-way between the two planets where the Triellus Trade Route took a bend and ships had to drop sub-light, reorient, and jump back into hyper.  It was a also a hot-bed of pirate activity and a prime location to lay in wait for known smugglers - or slavers.  "We believe the Sons of Kessel had this waypoint picketted, looking for slavers..."

"Just like we have it picketted looking for pirates." Interjected Jer'I'Cam, a grizzled vet who served as B'Lain's wingman and was the senior non-commissioned Armsman in the unit. 

"Exactly, Jeri.  Apparently they found something and bit off more than they could chew.  Captain Nath is going to execute a micro-jump in ... four minutes." Collectively the pilots set timers on their padds.  "We will ride the jump in the tubes and launch on emergence.  This is officially a Search and Rescue mission, but be prepared for anything.  Whoever tore up Xanadu might still be around, and anything that can take on a dozen Tie Avengers is a serious customer indeed.  Questions?"

"Sir, do we have any data on Xanadu's transpoders or rescue frequencies?" Jo'Nas asked.

"We have a list of transponder codes from our contact on Syvris.  They are being uploaded to your birds as we speak."  B'Lain turned and fixed Jan'A with his eyes.  "Any non-standard scanning techniques will also be appreciated."

Jan blushed but managed to simply nod.  "Aye, I'll do whatever I can, sir."

"Good." B'Lain killed the hologram.  "Now, man your birds.  We jump in ... two minutes."

******

Space exploded with pseudo-motion, a blue-white flash of emergence energy fleeing before the Hornet as it emerged from hyperspace.  Seconds later twelve ARC-170-MXZ fighers burst from the launch tubes, followed closely by a pair of small boarding shuttles.

"Spread out, globular formation.  We're still a little short of battle site, so anyone who ejected should be in front of us." B'Lain called.  "Clock positions, One through Twelve, shuttles in the middle..."

Jan moved her ship to the 9 o'clock position and shaped her course to maximize sensor range.  The fighters ended up in a circle around the Hornet, sensor ranges overlapping by 10%, with the two boarding shuttles and the Hornet covering the center with their sensors to create a giant sensor net in space.  But now that she was on course...  "Blue, take the wheel and mind the sensors.  I want to try a force scan."

Blue beeped an acknowledgement and Jan felt the fighter shake gently as the droid confirmed positive control.  With a final check of her instruments, Jan sat back and closed her eyes, opening herself to the force while humming a perception motif.

******

B'Lain scanned his instruments again, noting the time.  seven hours...  The team was on its fourteenth leg now, its wide globular pattern criss-crossing the battle site.  They'd found enough debris to confirm they were in the right place, but nothing anywhere near intact.

And no survivors.

"Eddie, take the wheel for a bit." B'Lain said.  The fighter shook slightly as the droid took the controls and B'Lain rubbed his eyes briefly before switching to his tactical view.  The track was plotted in three dimensions with all of the small debris hits they'd had.  The pieces were scattered across the track but concentrated closer to the far end.  B'Lain activated his comm.  "JOker ONe to Eagle."

"Eagle here.  Go Joker."  Captain Nath replied instantly.

"Eagle, I think we should extend the next leg and shift the grid toward that end, centered on the debris hits."

There was a short pause before the Captain came back.  "Makes sense to me, Joker.  Any luck wiht Joker Nine?"

"No, sir." B'Lain replied.  "She's still trying but so far nothing."

"Understood." Nath sighed.  "We've been trying to raise anyone who might have survived, but so far no luck.  They were either wiped out or the survivors jumped out."

B'Lain shuddered at that.  Being left behind to die alone in space was one of the risks - and special fears - of all starfighter pilots. B'Lain didn't care who they were, he was determined to do his best to recover anyone who might still be alive post-fight.  "Well, whatever happend to them we'll keep looking.  Coming up on the turn."

"Affirmative.  Eagle out."

B'Lain switched back to his scanners.  "Pilot's ship." he said.  "Joker flight, prepare for turn..."

******

Jace yawned and resisted the urge to rub his eyes.  They were gritty with fatigue, and some part of him wanted to scrub them vigorously.  Experience, however, taught him that the temporary relief would only make the return of the scratchiness worse.  So he settled for blinking and another sip of his swindling supply of cafe.  "Squeaker, I think..."

His sensors suddenly lit up with contacts.  "Bingo!  Joker Five to Joker One: Contact!  I have a large contact bearing zero-two-seven mark three-three-eight relative.  Its just come into range, marking it Ghost One."  Jace tapped the screen and entered the tag, transmitting the target's location to the squadron and the carrier.  "Request permission to break formation and check it out."

"Granted.  Do a fly-by and report.  Six and Four, shift and close the sensor gap."

Jace heard the other pilots acknowledge as he kicked his throttle up and centered his nose on the target.  "Finally..."

******

"Finally..." Ellen breathed, unconsciously echoing Jace.  "Fourteen hours...  How did they get so far off?"

"Look at the velocity." Captain Nath remarked, pointing out the shifting position of Joker 5's contact.  "No delta-v, but they're moving like a bat out of hell."

"That's going to make recovery difficult, skipper." Ellen replied.  "Should we break formation and use the Hornet?"

Nath took a drink from his cafe mug and nodded.  "Looks like the only way..."  A status change lit up on the plot.

"Joker 5 to Eagle: Status change.  I have multiple transponders!" Jace's voice was excited.  "I count five distinct transponder codes and I'm also getting a weak return now from what appears to be a fighter hull."

The Captain leaned in, intent on what Jace was telling him.  "Understood.  Proceed to visual identification.  Eagle to Joker One."

"Joker One"

"Blain, I think your boy has our survivors.  From the look of it they were moving quickly and someone with a partially functioning ship gathered the rest into one place."

There was a pause followed by a sigh.  "Concur.  And if we're wrong it doesn't really matter.  Anyone we haven't found by now..."

The bridge was silent.  "Agreed."

"Very well.  Silver flight, move to support Joker 5.  All other Jokers, return to base."

Nath turned to his XO.  "Ellen, sorte the boarding shuttles to support Silver and put us on course for the contact.  Blain and his boys can match velocity for docking."

"Aye, sir." Ellen said, turning to the helm.

Nath crossed his arms as his ship shifted course and speed.  Five contacts.  Only five...  But five was better than none...

******

B'Lain stood in the bay as the boarding shuttle docked.  Inside were six Sons of Kessel, pilots all and all wounded to some extent or another.  The fighter had indeed been a badly mauled Tie Avenger, no life support but it had working thrusters. 

B'Lain waved the shuttle pilot over as medical teams began off-loading the Sons pilots.  "So, what's the story?"

"They're all out now, but one of the pilots we picked up, named Grifter, said that the pilot of Xanadu Seven, goes by Ringo, used what was left of his fighter's manueverability to gather the survivors of his flight and keep them together while sending out a distress call.  He said they were on patrol and were ambushed by "hundreds" of enemy fighters."

B'Lain snorted.  "Not likely."

"No sir." the shuttle pilot agreed.  "One of my guys managed to pull the flight data recorder from the fighter before we left, so hopefully we can get an ID."

B'Lain nodded again, wobbly with fatigue.  "Good work." he yawned.  "Get your bird locked down and get some rest.  Its been a very long day."

The shuttle pilot saluted and left the CAG, who moved slowly and carefully to the lift, nothing left on his mind save a quick stop in the refresher and some sleep...

[Taegin Roan]

It appears that I have not yet commented on this story. I thought I had. Anyways, I'm liking it so far. I like the idea of a SW story not focused on a Jedi/Sith/Force user. And seeing as fighter pilots are awesome, this story is just that much cooler.

[Karmack]

It appears that I have not yet commented on this story. I thought I had. Anyways, I'm liking it so far. I like the idea of a SW story not focused on a Jedi/Sith/Force user. And seeing as fighter pilots are awesome, this story is just that much cooler.

LOL  Wish I could take credit for an original idea, but they did a whole set of "Rogue Squadron" stories in a similar vein.  But it seemed like fun.

[Lord_S_Gray]

It appears that I have not yet commented on this story. I thought I had. Anyways, I'm liking it so far. I like the idea of a SW story not focused on a Jedi/Sith/Force user. And seeing as fighter pilots are awesome, this story is just that much cooler.

Very True TR, sometimes we forget Force users are only meant to be a very small minority in the galaxy (one in billions with any useable ability).  Yet on the other hand that very rare power means every action an course they take dominates the lives of millions of others, their every choice is amplified - with great power come great responsibility...hmm I wonder if non-force sensitives would come to resent that...to hate force users for how the galaxy seems to turn about them....

That's a discussion (or story) for another time...

Back to the chapter, more interesting build up, Wilberforce, TIE Advanced getting set upon...seeing only from the pilots view doesn't give us the whole picture of what's happening here and why...but in a sense that is how it should be, this is about a squad in a larger force, their trials and tribulations (sparring together, how to raise an issue with a 'semi famous' squadmate, bored patrol through wreckage....), so does have that Rogue squadron feel.

[TheDutchman]

I am reminded of a serialized war program that keeps upping the ante with each progressive episode.  And I'm really enjoying getting to know more of the individual members; certainly the interchange between Jokers members are amongst some of the most memorable and enjoyable 

Another treat is the reference to Karm as a bit of an icon (which he is  ).  As both TR and LSG mentioned, its nice to see outside the lens of Force-users and the vast richness of the galaxy "far, far away"   

Can't wait for the next installment!