New Story: Alternate Antilles
Posted: 2011-05-14 12:18am
I saw a bunch of people on the Rogues' Gallery thread who were disappointed by the lack of an update. Sorry that this isn't it, but I did have another story dealing with the Star Wars Universe:
This will be a selection of stories in the spirit of the Star Wars: Infinities comics, dealing with alternate universes and slight changes making big ripples in the Star Wars Universe. The thing is, these are all going to be times when Wedge's life takes a turn, with each alternate universe covered in a chapter or two. The idea for this is that I will have something to write when I get burned out on Rogues' Gallery.
Anyway, Hope you like it, and as always, I encourage and appreciate any criticism you have to offer.
Chapter 1: Pride Goeth: A Different Trench Run.
There was no way out, Wedge knew as soon as he felt the controls buck and flutter after the middle TIE fired on him. Luke seemed to think so, though, because he ordered him to clear the trench, saying,
“You can't do any more good back there.”
Can't do any more good? Wedge thought, Kriff that. Except for Syal and Mirax, everyone I know is either dead, incarcerated, or right here. These Imperial slugs just hacked most of my squadron out of the air, Luke's making a run for the exhaust port, and Biggs is guarding him. I'll be dammed if I do nothing.
Time seemed to slow as he came to a realization, and his veins turned to ice at the prospect.
I have nothing to lose. They have everything.
It was the work of a moment to decide on a course of action:
“Plug,” Wedge growled to his R2 unit as he kept an iron grip on the stick, “Get ready to kill the ethertic rudder and set both of my torps for proximity detonation. I've got a plan.”
“Wedge?” Luke's voice, frantic, “Why haven't you left yet?”
“Just picking a good time.” he murmered, abstractedly calm, “Picking... a good...time...”
**********
The Incom Corporation has much to answer for, Vader thought, trying to reacquire the wretchedly rugged X-Wings which were so smilar to the ARC-170s flown by clones that he had escorted for so many years.
And the Rebel Pilots were more skilled than Intelligence had anticipated. They have...Disappointed me... fumed Vader, noting the fighter he had damaged was still keeping pace with its wingman, screening the leader, smoke and sparks puffing from the tail, dissipating into the vacuum of the Death Star's Polar trench and further protecting the Rebels from his target lock.
The Dark Lord briefly wondered which ones were smugglers, which were Imperial defectors, and which ones were idealists, before pushing such idle thoughts out of his mind. The rebels would be irrelevant in seconds, anyway.
They would be dead.
That thought brought satisfaction as he stretched out with his senses, only to be taken aback at the sheer Force presence emanating from the leader-clearly untrained- but still shining like a beacon.
Vader's cracked lips formed a brief, painful smile beneath the mask.
At last, a challenge from someone worthy, unlike the disappointingly decrepit Kenobi.
The brief distraction from the damaged snubfighter would prove his undoing. In space combat a second was an eternity...
**********
“Okay Plug!” Wedge shouted through the comm, “Do it now!”
The droid tootled an acknowledgment, and he pulled back on the stick...
**********
“The force is strong with this one.” Vader mused, so focused on the massive force presence of leader, he didn’t notice the damaged fighter swap nose-for-tail and and hurtle towards him.
He noticed just in time to see the sleek gray and red fighter vomit two torpedoes at him before spiraling off drunkenly into open space, its engines sparking and spitting.
Impossible! Vader raged, and stretched out with all of his anger towards the speeding projectiles, and frantically firing his guns, searching for the activation circuts, trying to push them out of the way.
He only succeeded in disabling one, but the dead torpedo corkscrewed into one of his wingmen, punching a hole straight through the cockpit and killing him even without exploding.
The live torp was vaped instantly, exploding into a large fireball and shredding the Vader's shields. Then the pilotless TIE spun into Vader’s Advanced model, knocking it out of control and into the trench wall.
Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, and once a man named Anakin Skywalker, didn't even feel the impact as he became one with the stars, taking the third TIE with him.
**********
Despite facing a cockpit display full of amber lights, Wedge felt a surge of triumph as he sped away from the Death Star. The usually restrained pilot whooped and managed activate the comm before his systems failed entirely:
“You're all clear, Luke. Now blow this thing!”
As his powerless snubfighter sailed off into the void, propelled only by inerta, Wedge finally relaxed into his chair, and was bathed in a corona of light less than a minute later.
**********
YAVIN 4 COMMAND CENTER
TWO DAYS LATER
At least Solo had the decency to rescue Antilles from his fighter before hauling tail out of there.
General Dodonna needed all the pilots he could get. Besides Skywalker, Darklighter, and Antilles, only a Y-Wing driver named Farlander had made it out alive.
The remembrance toasts had been drunk, ornate medals had been issued, and now it was time to figure out why their fighters had suffered so terribly on the final approach, and the three pillots had spent hours debriefing.
The only clue seemed to be the unique TIE model. It had gone on a rampage, cutting down pilots left and right until Wedge had gotten desperate enough to go head-to-head. But if it was a secret weapon, more could be produced, further endangering the cause.
“Sir!” one of the techs at a workstation addressed Dodonna, “I've been reviewing Antilles' gun camera footage – you need to see this now.”
The General made his way over to the man's console as fast as his aging bones would carry him.
“What is it Mr. Debn?”
“Look here, sir, on his final approach, we got a look at the cockpit. I've been cleaning it up, and...”
Jan Dodonna saw the black lensed mask of Darth Vader staring back at him. Then the entire command center saw a sixty-year-old cuss like a teenager.
“Get Antilles up here now, and then lock the room down.” ordered the General, “He needs to see this.”
**********
“I did what?” Wedge goggled incredulously.
“Your gun camera footage shows that you shot down Darth Vader,” General Dodonna repeated gently, patting him on the shoulder, “And you struck a blow for freedom that will be felt for years down the line. Good shooting, son.”
The young pilot gulped, “So, I get another medal or something?”
“High Command was thinking more of a propoganda tour, pull you off the front lines...”
“Nonono sir. My friends are here, and Wes is getting over his bout of fever. We've got Imps to vape and I'm not going anywhere. Besides – ” He beckoned the General closer, “That Coruscanti actress, Wynssa Starflare, her real name's Syal. My sister – Word gets out that I killed Vader, then they check my background and her life isn't worth a dicred.”
Dodonna nodded, “What about Vader then? Acknowledging his death would be a great boon for our cause.”
Wedge's expression hardened lending his youthful face an uncharacteristic maturity; “It's still a man's life sir, and an enemy in battle. It'll never be more than that, and it won't bring the rest of Red Squadron back. Beyond telling Luke that the guy who killed Kenobi is dead, I want no part of it. Do as you will,” He paused, significantly, “Sir.”
The older man smiled beneath his beard, “Why do I have the feeling you'll be where I'm standing in about ten years?”
“Me sir?” the hardened expression vanished, replaced by a grin, “A General? Never. I can't stand paperwork.”
“I like having a good XO.” Dodonna deadpanned. “Thank you Lieutenant you're dismissed. Now go see your friends and drink some more of that distilled fighter fuel they call whiskey.”
“Yes Sir!” Antilles sketched a salute, and left the General to his office and his thoughts.
Enjoy it while you can son, we've got a long road to travel, and I don't know how many of us will see the end.
**********
This will be a selection of stories in the spirit of the Star Wars: Infinities comics, dealing with alternate universes and slight changes making big ripples in the Star Wars Universe. The thing is, these are all going to be times when Wedge's life takes a turn, with each alternate universe covered in a chapter or two. The idea for this is that I will have something to write when I get burned out on Rogues' Gallery.
Anyway, Hope you like it, and as always, I encourage and appreciate any criticism you have to offer.
Chapter 1: Pride Goeth: A Different Trench Run.
There was no way out, Wedge knew as soon as he felt the controls buck and flutter after the middle TIE fired on him. Luke seemed to think so, though, because he ordered him to clear the trench, saying,
“You can't do any more good back there.”
Can't do any more good? Wedge thought, Kriff that. Except for Syal and Mirax, everyone I know is either dead, incarcerated, or right here. These Imperial slugs just hacked most of my squadron out of the air, Luke's making a run for the exhaust port, and Biggs is guarding him. I'll be dammed if I do nothing.
Time seemed to slow as he came to a realization, and his veins turned to ice at the prospect.
I have nothing to lose. They have everything.
It was the work of a moment to decide on a course of action:
“Plug,” Wedge growled to his R2 unit as he kept an iron grip on the stick, “Get ready to kill the ethertic rudder and set both of my torps for proximity detonation. I've got a plan.”
“Wedge?” Luke's voice, frantic, “Why haven't you left yet?”
“Just picking a good time.” he murmered, abstractedly calm, “Picking... a good...time...”
**********
The Incom Corporation has much to answer for, Vader thought, trying to reacquire the wretchedly rugged X-Wings which were so smilar to the ARC-170s flown by clones that he had escorted for so many years.
And the Rebel Pilots were more skilled than Intelligence had anticipated. They have...Disappointed me... fumed Vader, noting the fighter he had damaged was still keeping pace with its wingman, screening the leader, smoke and sparks puffing from the tail, dissipating into the vacuum of the Death Star's Polar trench and further protecting the Rebels from his target lock.
The Dark Lord briefly wondered which ones were smugglers, which were Imperial defectors, and which ones were idealists, before pushing such idle thoughts out of his mind. The rebels would be irrelevant in seconds, anyway.
They would be dead.
That thought brought satisfaction as he stretched out with his senses, only to be taken aback at the sheer Force presence emanating from the leader-clearly untrained- but still shining like a beacon.
Vader's cracked lips formed a brief, painful smile beneath the mask.
At last, a challenge from someone worthy, unlike the disappointingly decrepit Kenobi.
The brief distraction from the damaged snubfighter would prove his undoing. In space combat a second was an eternity...
**********
“Okay Plug!” Wedge shouted through the comm, “Do it now!”
The droid tootled an acknowledgment, and he pulled back on the stick...
**********
“The force is strong with this one.” Vader mused, so focused on the massive force presence of leader, he didn’t notice the damaged fighter swap nose-for-tail and and hurtle towards him.
He noticed just in time to see the sleek gray and red fighter vomit two torpedoes at him before spiraling off drunkenly into open space, its engines sparking and spitting.
Impossible! Vader raged, and stretched out with all of his anger towards the speeding projectiles, and frantically firing his guns, searching for the activation circuts, trying to push them out of the way.
He only succeeded in disabling one, but the dead torpedo corkscrewed into one of his wingmen, punching a hole straight through the cockpit and killing him even without exploding.
The live torp was vaped instantly, exploding into a large fireball and shredding the Vader's shields. Then the pilotless TIE spun into Vader’s Advanced model, knocking it out of control and into the trench wall.
Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, and once a man named Anakin Skywalker, didn't even feel the impact as he became one with the stars, taking the third TIE with him.
**********
Despite facing a cockpit display full of amber lights, Wedge felt a surge of triumph as he sped away from the Death Star. The usually restrained pilot whooped and managed activate the comm before his systems failed entirely:
“You're all clear, Luke. Now blow this thing!”
As his powerless snubfighter sailed off into the void, propelled only by inerta, Wedge finally relaxed into his chair, and was bathed in a corona of light less than a minute later.
**********
YAVIN 4 COMMAND CENTER
TWO DAYS LATER
At least Solo had the decency to rescue Antilles from his fighter before hauling tail out of there.
General Dodonna needed all the pilots he could get. Besides Skywalker, Darklighter, and Antilles, only a Y-Wing driver named Farlander had made it out alive.
The remembrance toasts had been drunk, ornate medals had been issued, and now it was time to figure out why their fighters had suffered so terribly on the final approach, and the three pillots had spent hours debriefing.
The only clue seemed to be the unique TIE model. It had gone on a rampage, cutting down pilots left and right until Wedge had gotten desperate enough to go head-to-head. But if it was a secret weapon, more could be produced, further endangering the cause.
“Sir!” one of the techs at a workstation addressed Dodonna, “I've been reviewing Antilles' gun camera footage – you need to see this now.”
The General made his way over to the man's console as fast as his aging bones would carry him.
“What is it Mr. Debn?”
“Look here, sir, on his final approach, we got a look at the cockpit. I've been cleaning it up, and...”
Jan Dodonna saw the black lensed mask of Darth Vader staring back at him. Then the entire command center saw a sixty-year-old cuss like a teenager.
“Get Antilles up here now, and then lock the room down.” ordered the General, “He needs to see this.”
**********
“I did what?” Wedge goggled incredulously.
“Your gun camera footage shows that you shot down Darth Vader,” General Dodonna repeated gently, patting him on the shoulder, “And you struck a blow for freedom that will be felt for years down the line. Good shooting, son.”
The young pilot gulped, “So, I get another medal or something?”
“High Command was thinking more of a propoganda tour, pull you off the front lines...”
“Nonono sir. My friends are here, and Wes is getting over his bout of fever. We've got Imps to vape and I'm not going anywhere. Besides – ” He beckoned the General closer, “That Coruscanti actress, Wynssa Starflare, her real name's Syal. My sister – Word gets out that I killed Vader, then they check my background and her life isn't worth a dicred.”
Dodonna nodded, “What about Vader then? Acknowledging his death would be a great boon for our cause.”
Wedge's expression hardened lending his youthful face an uncharacteristic maturity; “It's still a man's life sir, and an enemy in battle. It'll never be more than that, and it won't bring the rest of Red Squadron back. Beyond telling Luke that the guy who killed Kenobi is dead, I want no part of it. Do as you will,” He paused, significantly, “Sir.”
The older man smiled beneath his beard, “Why do I have the feeling you'll be where I'm standing in about ten years?”
“Me sir?” the hardened expression vanished, replaced by a grin, “A General? Never. I can't stand paperwork.”
“I like having a good XO.” Dodonna deadpanned. “Thank you Lieutenant you're dismissed. Now go see your friends and drink some more of that distilled fighter fuel they call whiskey.”
“Yes Sir!” Antilles sketched a salute, and left the General to his office and his thoughts.
Enjoy it while you can son, we've got a long road to travel, and I don't know how many of us will see the end.
**********