EPISODE I - TWENTY-SIX: Hitting what we can

Trickster Squadron pushed to the surface of Aporoth. Blue Squadron, whose arrival came as a surprise and a blessing, kept hammering away at the First Order Star Destroyer that appeared in orbit not long after Trickster Squadron exited hyperspace. Confident in knowing that Poe and his team were plucking the enemy ships out of the sky, they began to regroup one by one to head down the river valley and strike the energy harvesting facility. 

Silara Narvo landed the poorly armed shuttle on a secluded beach to the north of K'owan City, waiting to pick up the ground team once she got the signal to do so. She had doubts as to whether or not there would be anyone left to retrieve, but she remained hopeful. Dex and Adria were capable enough, but would they be as adept with the Ansons in tow? Silara began to feel guilty for involving the old couple in this mission, but what was she to do? They were the best shot the Resistance had at getting around the facility; for knowing the ins and outs of the workers' activities and what would be the best way around that portion of the base. She shook it off. They would be fine. All of them would be fine and would play their parts brilliantly.

Dom Browhar's voice crackled across the comm channel. "Sil, sit tight and keep safe. Let us know if you run into any trouble." He tinkered with the signal booster on the comm device to hail the rest of his team. "All wings report in."

Niono Barg was the first to respond. "Trick Four reporting in."

"Trick Seven reporting in, Trick Three," Paloame enthusiastically added.

Feege, having some issues boosting his signal, replied, "Trickster Six here!"

And then silence. Fully expecting to hear Jaimos Womahil, but receiving nothing, Dom began to worry. "Trick Five," he called out and followed it with a pause. "Trick Five? Dammit, Womahil, where in blazes are you?!"

A sharp electronic squeal flooded the channel, which was followed by an apologetic Jai. "Sorry, boss. I had to fly out a little further than I'd expected. That shuttle that came down ahead of us kept banking and followed the route I planned on taking, so I had to adjust."

Browhar sighed with a mix of relief and frustration. "Sure! So, did you happen to see where that shuttle was going?"

"Yeah, main complex. I think Dex and Adria might have some unexpected company!"

"Great," Pal commented, flush with sarcasm.

Dom needed to get the mission back on track and fast. There was no telling what was happening with the ground team and time was running out. "Listen, I spotted some targets as I was circling back to rendezvous with the rest of you--some sort of massive pipe-like structures rising out of the ground. They may be cooling towers."

"Saw those too, boss!" Jai excitedly exclaimed.

"Good, then you know what to look for. Trick Seven, you're coming with me. Tricks Five and Six, pair up and Trick Four, you fly interference and keep an eye out for any approaching fighters."

"Good luck, team," Feege added with as much cheeriness as a Rodian could muster. He toggled his joystick and maneuvered his craft to loop back and fly alongside Womahil.

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The ride up in the turbolift that led up to the executive tower was a considerably different experience from the ones in the rest of the base. It was smoother and quieter and had an almost calming atmosphere about it. Bardet Tanga tried to maintain that feeling of calm, but his agitation over Benemer Strim's failures on Aporoth kept gnawing at him.

He hated Strim and all he stood for. The man was stupid, lazy and the scope of his vision was narrow. He was self-serving and really, when it came down to it, wasn't a particularly adroit businessman. His washouts outnumbered his successes, but somehow, he always managed to emerge from his failings unscathed. Tanga watched the director's rise in wealth and popularity over the decades. He noted that all of this fame was based on the Strim family name alone and not because he was admired for anything specific. He had something to sell and the galaxy was much too eager to buy it. Weak-minded fools! But it was on these foolish citizens of the Republic that the First Order was counting. If they could easily be taken in by this buffoon, the goods Tanga and his army planned on selling them would also be easily bought.

But for the moment, these were thoughts he needed to waylay. Tanga needed to deal with the present. He knew that Strim would try to curry favor from High Command by once again casting himself as the victim, but Tanga was certain that he could successfully spin this and remove Strim from the picture. 

The lift slowed itself until it came to a stop. The doors opened after a soft chime sounded announcing its arrival. The doors parted and seated directly in front of the lift was Benemer Strim's on-duty assistant. He looked up to see the strikingly handsome officer striding out of the lift--the unexpected visitor causing him a bit of surprise.

"M-may I help you?" he stammered.

Tanga looked him up and down with a disapproving glare. In doing so, he recognized that the junior aide didn't have much experience and was probably an ambitious local who bought the promises made by his superior. "Captain Tanga from the First Order Star Destroyer Isolator, here to see Director Strim."

The young man was about to ask if Tanga had an appointment, but it seemed unwise. Instead, he simply patched himself through to Strim's office and began to speak. "Mr. Strim? There's a Captain Tanga from the First Order here to see you, sir."

If the captain could see through the wall, he would've witnessed a variegated expression crossing Strim's face, one that read annoyance and possibly that he'd just soiled himself. Either way, the businessman wasn't pleased. He readied himself for the visit and granted Tanga permission to enter. 

The officer stepped past the reception desk, briefly turning around to issue a simple command to the attendant. "You may leave your post."

The pocket door to the inner chambers opened. The hiss of its hydraulic mechanism lent an air of foreboding to the quietude of their surroundings. Strim approached Tanga and extended his hand in a greeting, but the captain continued to walk past him, unimpressed. Bardet Tanga examined the office. Its smooth, curved surfaces and cleanly furnished rooms didn't have the aesthetic of a military installation and spoke volumes about how Strim was being catered to. He curled his lip in disapproval. 

"How are things going here, director?" he asked.

Benemer Strim couldn't tell if this was a trick question, so he just answered plainly. "Things are... proceeding well, I think. We had a little trouble relocating the indigenous population from the far side of Aporoth, but we are dealing with the problems."

Silence followed and it was an uncomfortable silence as Strim watched Tanga slowly examine the room.

"I was informed that a small band of insurgents is inside the station," he stated flatly and exhaled. "How is that going?"

Strim was caught off guard. "Oh, that... that's--we've got a handle on that. They should be rounded up within the next hour or so." It came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

Tanga heard it and didn't think Benemer sounded too confident with his own assessment on the situation. Strim may be able to put on a show for the rest of the population, but none of this would get past him and it appeared obvious that both men were aware of this. 

"This would be most fortunate for your sake, director. I--" 

A series of low booms and rumbles interrupted the verbal lashing Tanga was doling out to Strim. In a typical response to a surprise anything, Strim looked panicked and flummoxed. He looked to the captain for a reaction and quite possibly an answer. This was obviously a poor decision. 

Tanga shot him a nasty look and crossed the room to Strim's desk. He paused for a moment, looking at different windows that were open on the computer. He pushed a few buttons on the screen and scanned the different readouts. 

Feigning assistance, Strim started to approach the desk with his finger pointed. "You just need to--"

"I know how to operate a computer and engage the comm channels," he roared back with indignation. "Your fancy desk operates on the same First Order technology as our starships."

The man in the suit stepped back a couple paces to allow the officer to do his work. Tanga scrolled through the external cameras, eventually stopping on a view that informed him that two small one-man fighters were strafing some of the structures in the river valley.

"Idiot! We're under attack from the air. This is Captain Bardet Tanga from the First Order destroyer Isolator. The facility has been infiltrated by insurgents. We believe them to be near the harvesting shaft. Shoot to kill. We need no prisoners!"

The executive tower shook from a nearby explosion. Tanga quickly flipped through the security feeds again to see a number of TIE/sf fighters in burning heaps on the tarmac.

Furiously he demanded, "why the hell haven't these fighters been scrambled?!"

Strim dithered. "W-we didn't anticipate..."

"Of course you didn't anticipate an airstrike after the facility was invaded by these troublemakers," growled the captain. "Our pilots should've been on patrol in the base's airspace this entire time... and why in Palpatine's name would you have any foresight that this could be a multipronged attack?"

"I--," he began, but then reconsidered saying anything at all upon reading the expression on Tanga's visage. For once, the generally loquacious entrepreneur found himself without anything to add. 

Tanga slammed his hand on the desktop, again activating the comm channel. "All available pilots to your ships! There are several snub fighters assaulting the compound. Find them and blast them out of the sky. Tanga out!"

Shutting off the intercom, Captain Tanga turned from the desk to face Benemer Strim. He straightened his posture and a quietly threatening look crossed his countenance.

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Niono Barg enjoyed going after ground targets. The act of taking out stationary objects relaxed him and took his mind back to growing up and going through flight training in the Delphidian Cluster. It was far easier than engaging an enemy in space where there was no real sense of up or down. Today though, he was covering the rest of the team and cleaning up anything that looked like it might still function.

A warning suddenly flashed in Barg's cockpit. Six bogeys were approaching and closing in on them. He hailed the squadron to announce the arrival of the enemy ships. "Heads up, Tricks--I just picked up several targets on my scope. I think they finally got off their backsides and launched some of the fighters we didn't already take out!"

Browhar acknowledged the alert. "Confirming enemy targets. Keep your eyes open, Pal! I don't want you getting cooked back there."

"I'm on top of it," she fired back with irritation in her voice. Just then, her X-Wing swerved to avoid nothing and in doing so, she almost clipped one of her s-foils on the top of a tree. "Okay... I'm mostly on top of it. I'm still trying to shake the pleasant afterglow of these nerve blockers. Sorry about that, Dom."

Jai interrupted the conversation between Browhar and Lam. "Keep your fighters low to the ground."

"Why?" Feege asked.

"Apparently, these TIE fighters have issues with their tracking systems if their targets fly too close to the ground," Womahil responded authoritatively.

Barg was curious about how Jai discovered this and even more curious as to why the First Order would develop their new fighter with this flaw. He would save the questions for another day and decided to take Jai's word for it regarding the radar issues. Niono Barg put his ship into a starboard turn and gunned it toward the approaching fighters.

Just then, a barrage of laser fire struck the lead ship in the formation of TIEs. The clean shot could mean only one thing.

"Trickster Squadron--permission for Blue Squadron to rejoin in the fight?" Poe Dameron's enthusiastic voice buzzed through the everyone's helmets.

"Welcome back to the mess, Crash!" exclaimed Paloame.

"Thanks for the welcome, Lady One-Arm," Poe teasingly retorted. "And yes, all of us heard that as we were heading out of hyperspace. You guys really talk a lot!"

"Watch your six, Poe!" Wexley swooped in and blitzed Dameron's pursuer.

"Thanks, Snap."

BB-8 chirped his own appreciative acknowledgment to Wexley while he made adjustments to the ship's controls. He also made some profane comments about something or another amidst a minor shower of sparks.

Jai was suddenly feeling good about the mission. Blue Squadron would be able to keep the TIEs of their backs and they could focus on the structures. "Now that our reinforcements have our backs, what's our next move, boss?"

Dom flew along the valley, thinking about the places where their shots might be the most effective. He considered returning to the structure and grounds where they'd entered but quickly reconsidered. That might be the best option for the ground team to escape and to lay waste to it might not be the best plan.

Then he mused out loud, "Okay, let's see if we can find the section we went in and look a little further ahead. We should be able to figure out the layout of the facility based on the route we took. I think most of us are pretty good with directions and should be able to identify the sensitive spots. Good luck back there, Blue Squadron!"