How it starts:
The Disciple's x-wing soared above the endless green ocean.
'I am one with the Force,' she said to herself, becoming one with the machine, 'and the Force is with me.'
'Not for much longer,' said a voice over the comm, and a TIE fighter swooped in on her, high and to her right, coming out of the sun. She banked hard, narrowly escaping the kill shot, the green bolts illuminating her cockpit.
'Sithspit!' she swore.
'Language, N-5,' called Nexu 8 over the comm, her prim voice holding a slight mocking edge.
I'll give you language, the Disciple thought, then cursed herself for her unJedi-like thoughts. And in that time of self flagellation, the TIE had circled round and was hot on her tail. The Disciple juked left and right, sending the TIE's shots wide. She was saved by the arrival of another x-wing that harried the TIE off her tail.
'Thanks, N-10!' she called.
Nexu 10 replied over the comm, The Disciple's on board computer translating the Rodian for her. Let's hurry up and win this. Twitch is hungry.
The Disciple smiled. That, she could do. With a quick look at her scanner, she dived down, spotted the two TIEs that were chasing N-3 just metres above the water. Her astromech screeched in panic.
'It'll be fine, Bets,' she assured the droid. She picked her target, sent a few laser bolts down to break up the pair, then quickly shifted her aim to the right of the lead TIE, and fired. Sure enough, the TIE juked right into the path of the bolts. Strike one TIE out of action. She grinned. They always juke right. She yanked hard on her steering yoke, tilting her nose directly up into the sky, but the x-wing still continued down towards the ocean. She grimaced, held tight, and the starfighter finally halted, barely a metre from touching the water. Steam billowed where her jets heated the ocean, droplets of water sprayed on her canopy, mist fogged the transparisteel. She paid it no attention. She knew where her next target would be, the scanner just confirmed it. She switched to single rapid fire mode and depressed her trigger, sending red bolts up into the sky, only stopping when her scanner confirmed the hit. Strike two. She nodded, satisfied, then gunned her engine, bolting up into the sky. It would not do to get pinned down here.
The dogfight raged on around her, and she took a few moments to guage the situation. Despite going two down, the TIEs still had the upper hand. She found a flight of three TIEs harrying her squadmates and raced off to join the melee.
'N-11 and 12,' she said, 'go to heading .4 and keep together, then break on my mark.'
'Roger that,' said Nexu 11.
'Roger roger,' said 12. Together they headed eastwards, flying into the sun. The Disciple circled around them to get into position, waited for her moment, then shot forward. 'Break!' she called. The two x-wings broke, one left, one right. The Disciple flew out of the sun, her cannons blazing, and scored hits on two TIEs. The third panicked and dived right, trying to escape, but Nexu 11 and 12 scratched that one out.
'Form up on me.' she ordered them. Together, they scoured the battlefield, turning the tide in favour of the New Republic force, eliminating TIEs until only one remained.
'I'm hit!' cried N-3, his x-wing bowing out of the melee. The TIE turned away in a long arc, seemingly ignoring the mass of incoming x-wings.
'Torpedo lock established,' said N-8.
'Take it,' ordered the Disciple, then cried, 'wait!'
Too late. The TIE had snapped round to face them and sent a hail of blaster bolts at them. No, not at them. At Nexu 5. As the two torpedoes shot out, a bolt connected with one of the warheads, exploding just ahead of Nexu 8. Nexu 8 and the x-wing next to her got caught in the blast.
'Spread out,' the Disciple ordered over the comm, though the others didn't need telling. The TIE had shot forward and in moments was at the end of the oncoming line of x-wings, its laser cannon connecting to the far most starfighter. And then it was in amongst them. The other x-wings broke, trying to get away from the enemy in their midst, and the TIE send fire to encourage them.
They're trying to pick us off, one by one, thought the Disciple. 'Regroup into flights,' she ordered, and ordered Nexu 11 to join her as she chased after the TIE. She fired off bolts to the left and right of the TIE, boxing it in as Nexu 11 got in close. Before 11 could fire, though, the TIE did something that amazed the Disciple. It fired just one of its ion engines so that it twirled on its x-axis, swiveling round to face Nexu 11, who must have been shocked by the manoeuvre too, for she didn't fire. The TIE did, at near point blank range.
The Disciple whistled, then refocused on the task at hand. The TIE was behind her now. A quick look at her scanner told her the others were still forming up, two groups of three a kilometre apart. She had to keep her enemy occupied until they could get in position for a pincer movement.
She juked her yoke left and right, her x-wing swinging in graceful, predictable, arcs. As she swung to the left, she waited until she reached the zenith of her arc, waited until the last possible moment before she would swing back to the right - and then spiralled out to her left and swung her starfighter round to face her enemy. It was perfectly executed, it was beautiful, it was some of the best flying she'd ever done.
And it still didn't save her.
The TIE fighter shot a bolt clean through her cockpit.
Around her, the sky faded to black. The lights on her panel faded out and her canopy shot open, her time in the simulation over. She slammed her hands against the armrests, again and again. How? was all she could ask herself. How?
She leapt out of the cockpit, her muscly, six foot frame making an easy job of the drop to the deck. She rushed over to the observation screens, where a crowd was already gathered, standing beside the Bothan, N-3, and another human woman, N-8. Together, they watched as the TIE tore through the remaining x-wings. And as she watched, the Disciple's irritation gave way to admiration. 'Oh wow,' she whispered under her breath. 'They're stunning.'
The battle raged for a few more minutes, the TIE picking up a few more kills before finally being overwhelmed and destroyed. The Disciple rushed over to T-7's simulator, but others had already beaten her there and were crowding around the pilot, eager, as she was, to see this new hotshot in person.
The Disciple barged people out of the way to get to the front, and was greeted by the sight of a tiny, chubby woman with tawny skin, sky blue hair and warm brown eyes that were a hug unto themselves.
The Disciple stood in front of her with easily a foot on her, their eyes locked.
'Hi,' said the Disciple awkwardly.
'Hi,' the smaller woman replied, giving a little wave even though they were barely two feet apart.
'Hi,' the Disciple said again, unsure what to say.
'Hi!' interrupted a very large, very buff Devaronian, planting himself beside them, a broad grin on his face.
'Keep walking,' snarled the Disciple, not looking away from those large brown eyes.
The small woman put out her hand. 'I'm Cora,' she said. 'Cora Pavin.'
'Tane,' said the Disciple. 'Luna Tane.'
Where they end up:
Cora huddled on the floor, tears spilling from her face. Broken glass lay around her. She looked up fearfully. Above her stood Luna, her face contorted in anger and pain. In her hand, an Inquisitor's lightsaber.
Luna thumbed the switch; the blade came alive.
