Ten pilots were lined up in front of Admiral Thyn. These were not average pilots though-these were the BEST; each could take out 10 targets single handedly. Trained from birth to be the best, some were cloned, some were genetically altered, others were even implanted with massive computational packages. All would face each other in space combat. He stroked his clean shaven blue cheek and gave a tiny smile.

Xi-1 was a human, cloned in an attempt to get the best human pilot. He could hold is own against a max of 4 ties, but beyond that he began to panic and make mistakes-and there was no room for mistakes in space combat. He also lacked the spatial awareness of the other pilots. He did have one strength he was proud of however, he was good at kissing butt-and the emperor like the thought of a human pilot. He’d chosen a TIE Interceptor as his craft. He may be the worst of the group, and will certainly fail this test.

Xi-2 was a Gamorrean. Chosen because of his size, his girth meant more room for implants. Capable of computing astrogation cords with out a computer, Vector analysis was nothing to him. He’d chosen a B-wing as his craft; tough like him, the ship carried a large number of missiles. It complimented his favorite tactic- firing proton torpedoes at a distance, he was capable of picking off 5-6 enemies before they were even in range. He is one of the better pilots of the group, but I do not like his tactics.

Xi-3 was a Lafrarian, possibly the best pilot. But he lacks any tactical thought-just wanting to get in and attack he rarely thinks anything through. His pale gray face ended in a beak that I would have liked to snap off as it always seemed in motion. Also chosing a TIE Interceptor, the small one man fighter got him into combat quicker, and he did not have to think about launching torpedoes or angling shields-just twin frontal blasters and an enemy. He Ìs foolhardy but damn he’s good.

Xi-4 was a Sullustan. Damn I hate their floppy faces and that dumb look it carries all the time. I will be glad to see this one die. He and his y-wing will be the first to go; this I will see to because I do not think I could handle staring into it’s face. Flying a Y-Wing, what a fool.

Xi-5 is a genetically altered human. Taken from the best parts of all of my best pilots, he is the best of the ten. Damn good, yes, but too cocky. Standing just four meters away I could feel his arrogance. I’m guessing he will emerge the victor; he’s a much better analyst than the other ten pilots. He flies an X-Wing.

Xi-6 is another human. This one is what they called a “Force Sensitive.” He could guess what his opponents were going to do before they did it. It is interesting to see him fight, however, he was very expensive to make and we had to send him off to receive special training in the “”. This took too long but he was admitted to the test at the request of the Emperor himself. He flies a modified TIE, designed to be much more maneuverable at the expense of speed. The “” brings this pilot in as the fourth best of the group.

Xi-7 is a Jawa. While this in itself is quite humorous it is economical because they can fly smaller craft. He’s a master mechanic and a smart pilot, flying a half-sized TIE Interceptor.

Xi-8 is another human see a pattern? This one is augmented to the bone. He’s had vision, muscle, thought, and respiratory enhancements. Very few of his original organs are still intact. This one scares me; to think that machines could do this much, I might as well have been in charge of manufacturing droid controlled TIES-although he pilots an x-wing. Go figure.

Xi-9 is genetically engineered from my own blood. He is the best tactician of the group and one of the better gear heads. Yet he has one downfall-he’s fun loving. All he wants to do is drink and play cards. We’ve already have had to confiscate Rava from him on more than one occasion. Pacing 6^th out of all the pilots is a disgrace to his species-MY species, but this mistake will be erased in the test. He pilots an alliance A-Wing, yet another reason for me not to like him.

Xi-10 is the ultimate failure. He is an attempt to breed several species together and still resemble a human. He is the worst pilot but after the initial design it was found he would be the cheapest to manufacture. He’s achieved the honored place of last place out of all the pilots, even by these standards however he is still better than most regular pilots. He was assigned a Tie.

All ten pilots are going to compete to find out who’s the best, the rest will die. This is how it is in the Empire; if you make a mistake, or, in their case, ARE mistakes, you must die. They will be dropped into unfamiliar space and will fight to the death. All of the combatants will be wearing a specially prepared flight suit. The flight suit will monitor their vital signs while their helmet keep them in check. Blinders have been affixed to the helmets and will be used at the beginning of combat to keep each pilot disoriented until they are cleared to begin.

I believe I have made them wait long enough.

“ Each one of you know why you are here-to fight. Only one will walk away alive, the rest of you, will die. Mistakes are not allowed in the Empire. The winner has the honor of being the genetic map for an army of Imperial pilots. Now GO AND FIGHT!”

I watch with satisfaction as the pilots scatter from the command deck with that order, heading to the prep room to don their flight suits-for the last time.

This will be a good test.

“ Anyone else want a shot of Rava?” Xi-9 said with a hiccup, offering a stolen test tube filled with Rava. All of the other pilots ignored him. “ Come on, if we all going to die we might as well have fun with it,” he added, taking another hit from the thin cylinder.

“He's right you know; all of you should just get drunk because I am going to win and there is nothing you can do about it,” pronounced Xi-5, passing a hand over his spotless flight helmet.

“I hope your ship explodes when you power up,” said the Force user.

“Whats that suppose to mean, eh?” the Gammorean grunted, giving six an evil stare; his ship bay had been broken into the night before and he’d spent the entire night inspecting every inch of his ship; he was noticeable groggy.

“Come on guys! Lets not argue when we are going to die anyways, LetÌs just get drunk!” Xi-9 slurred as he had another shot of Rava. None of the other pilots gave the lush any attention-it was normal for him to be drunk at such an important moment.

 

 

As they exited the room they stopped short upon spotting Admiral Thyn, waiting outside.

"Let us continue,” Thyn said, gesturing to the launch bays.

Everyone proceeded with Xi-9 unable to walk a straight line behind his competition. Thyn wasn't surprised and stopped the group.

“Xi-9. Take off your helmet,” Thyn ordered. Nine followed the command. The Admiral stepped up and flared his nostrils. Eyes still locked on the pilot, he reached into the flight suit and retrieved the remaining test tubes of Rava.

“WHAT IS THIS?!?” he asked, eyes still locked on Xi-9.

He was met with a lopsided grin. “It's cool, Thyn-Man it just something to take the edge off. I mean we are fighting for our lives here; thats just a little bit of stress, Dontcha think? Seriously you...”

The Admiral cut him off with a swift backhand, knocking a line of spittle from the pilots mouth. Slowly he pulled up his sleeve to expose a narrow scar.

“I gave part of my self for this project. Who exactly do you think got my genes you pathetic fool,” Thyn hissed.

“Well, the fact that I am the only blue alien in the line up I would probably bet on me,” Xi-9 siad, wiping away a bit of blood form the corner of his mouth.

“ You drunk ingrate. I should shoot you here and now and save them the trouble. You are a disgrace to me,” Thyn rolled his sleeve back down. “ I won’t. I’m going to send you out there and show you how much of a failure you really are,” he stepped away and cast a disgusted measure over the man. “, go to your preflight and die.”

With that, the group continued on with Xi-9 staggering in a wavering line behind them. He could almost see the smile under fives helmet. He hated five.

Thyn sat in his private observation room. He was surrounded by monitors, some displaying various views from the starfighters, others displaying each pilots vital signs. In the center of the room was a hologram of the battlefield. All ten starfighters sat in space, all equal distance from each other. In the center was a small asteroid field. About five clicks away was the hexagonal monitoring station. Inside the asteroid field sat five turbolaser cannon designed to fire at random locations and intervals to imitate fighting around a star destroyer.

In the background he could hear the Gamorrean screaming-he’d been doing this since the DimSim kicked in; it would seem our fat friend had a fear of the darkness.

Thyn reached over and muted the screaming. His counter read a minute and a half left before the test began. All of the pilots vitals were in the yellow, except Xi-5 and Xi-9. Nine was probablly too drunk to know what was going on, and five knew he was the best.

It was time to begin. Thyn talked in to the intercom. “, in thirty seconds the Dimsim will disable. At that time you are to power up and begin the exercise. Any pilot who does not power up will have their ship detonated by remote,” he began the countdown.

When he reached “ 1 ” it began.

Vital signs jumping off the chart, they all tried to power up as quickly as possible and began scanning their environments. Five and three were the first to take off. Knowing the other was the best, they screamed at each other full speed; they would engage in the middle of the asteroid field. As the others got their bearings, the Gamorrean and the Sullustan started firing torpedos. The Gamorrean fired four torpedoes at the Failure. As untalented as he was, the Failure easily dodged the first three-finding out too late that they were simply a ruse to position him for the fourth torpedo.

"I have to admit, the Pig face is talented with those torpedos. It came as no big surprise that Xi-10 was the first to perish. “ the kill,” Thynn told the round administrator droid hovering over his shoulder.

The Sullustan’s first shot was targeted at Xi-1. The human easily dodge the torpedo like it was travelling through mud. The Sullustan tried to trigger a second, but a red critical failure light flashed to life on Thynn’s master control board. In a flash of fire and smoke, the Sullustans ship exploded, spraying debris into the darkness of space. Thyn smiled, he was not going to have those on his flight deck. “ elimination of Xi-4.”

Five and three were barreling toward each other, blasters firing a staccato of angry green and red bolts. Each easily dodged the other’s shots, neither taking any damage. Twisting, the Lafrarian, three, scored a hit but the shield easily defended the shot. While five vision was impaired three ducked under an asteroid and came up behind five, firing like a madman. I isolated the battle and watched as Five, suspecting this, equalized his shields. Just when it seemed five was done for, he began shooting a nearby asteroid, flying close to the debris.

An odd tactic Thyn observed, but when three came barreling in close to finish off the human a chunk of shattered asteroid struck his view port. The Lafrarian screamed as a spiderweb of cracks appeared in the window of his TIE. From the on board camera Thynn watched the circular viewport shatter, sucking the pilot into the vacuum of space. Then it made sense. Five shot the asteroid because his X-Wing had shields and the TIEÌs didnÌt. Another kill logged, another pilot vaped.

Xi-9 had taken off and was barreling toward the cyborg. A-Wing against X-Wing, they careened at each other in open space. The downside of the A-Wing, and yet another reason why Thyn couldn’t understand why pilots even chose the small triangular craft, was that an A-Wings shields lacked power-a high price to pay for a bit more speed.

Firing occasionally well placed shots at each other, by some fluke the drunks’ hit twice as often as the cyborg. Shooting past each other, the a-wing killed thrust and half a dozen maneuvering jets that were not supposed to be there fired. This caused the ship to do a flip with out changing his speed or vector, just his facing.

The g’s would have killed him if he did not have his internal compensator up to at least 98%. He then proceeded to fire killing shots into the cyborg’s rear ports; the shots were accurate and exploded the engines, engulfing the entire X-Wing in a cocoon of fire.

Thyn sat in stunned silence. It took some effort to focus on the rest of the pilots.

The Force User was pursuing the Jawa, flying through a barrage of turbolaser blasts. Suddenly, the miniature TIE headed right straight for one of the turbolaser platforms. Using his small size, the Jawa twisted in and out of the massive green energy blasts like a dunderfly dodging a flailing Gammorean.

Breaking off with the Jawa, the Force User dipped his ship off to the side and curled up beneath an asteroid. While the Jawa was still spiraling and dodging the turbolasers, the Force User brought himself up from behind the asteroid and let loose with a volley of torpedoes. The Jawa dodged them with little difficulty, but his trajectory brought him a little to close to the turbolaser, an explosion from one of the torpedoes jolted his tiny fighter, directly into the blast of a turbolaser; the tiny craft disappeared in the spear of green energy.

On the monitor a smiled showed on the Force Users face-only to be replace by fire as the Gamorrean scored another kill.

“I guess the Force doesn’t work in asteroid fields,” Thyn joked. Behind him the administrator droid hovered in silence. Bah, droids. No sense of humor.

Xi-1 was flying along a straight trajectory, following a standard-and predictable-Imperial routine. While this may have made lesser Admirals happy it didnÌt work well with superior pilots.

Swooping in behind XI-1, Xi-9 followed, his trajectory wavering due to his inebriation. Xi-1 gunned his engines and tried to put some room between them, heading towards the densest area of the asteroid field.

What Xi-1 didnÌt realize was that the lush, in one of his spells of lucidity, heavily modified his A-Wing to be even more maneuverable, getting full use out of all the room the removed hyperdrive allowed.

Suddenly, Nine killed all momentum and let Xi-1 speed off into the twirling mass of space rock and out of sight. Two asteroids, about to collide cut him off from his pursuit, so he circled the perimeter of the field, hunting for his prey. Breifly, Thyn wondered if Nine was as drunk as he seemed.

As Nine searched for One, a nearby asteroid exploded, sending flaming chunks of debris from its fiery death. It seemed the Gamorrean found a new target. Unfortunately, the A-Wing was more than maneuverable, and Nine disappeared into the field to find his prey.

Xi-5, appearing from nowhere, got the drop on the GamorreanÌs B-Wing, and scored with three precise shotsto the thin narrow body of the craft. But B-Wings were built to last, and the sturdy craft took all of their might with only minor damage. Kicking in the ion dirve, the Gammorean tried to maneuver out of the way but ultimately the X-Wing was just too much for it and the craft limped away, choosing flight rather than fight.

“Log another kill for Five,” Thyn instructed.

Nine was speeding among the asteroids, searching for Xi-1. Thyn could clearly see that One was hidden between two asteroids with the turbo lasers smashing asteoids all around him, hiding his signature.

Blindly firing, Nine placed a flurry of shots into the smaller asteroid that One happened to be hiding behind, causing it to start moving; it barely collided with the tip of One’s wing, shearing a sizeable chunk from it’s frame.

Taking off like a mynock out of hell, One fired his thrusters in an attempt to escape. Nine, following up with another volley aimed at the now exposed craft, laced together shots that took off with top of OneÌs right wing. Jerking his craft to compensate, this allowed the drunkard to blast off the bottom of his opponents damaged left wing. With no way for One to meneuver his craft, the last thing Thyn heard as the ship twisted uncontrollably into an asteroid was a muffled cry of surprise.

Five. Still in pursuit of the Gammorean, had removed one of the B-Wings stabilizers, disabled his lower ion cannons, and was hammering at the rear of the cockpit.

When Nine was finished with One he did a fancy twirl as he flew past Five, peppering the X-wing with a series of very random and non lethal shots. Thyn could tell that Five had snapped, as he jerked his ship around and fell in behind the drunk in tight pursuit, ignoring the wounded Gammorean who still coasted along through space.

The chase streaked toward the monitoring platform. Five infuriated at actually being hit during this test. Blindly chasing Nine, the drunk easily swooped out of the way of each shot either by design or accident or luck, Thyn couldnÌt tell which.

Suddenly Nine killed all speed and dropped into a bootleggers dive. Five, still in pursuit, did not see the massive turbloaser blast until it was too late. The Monitoring Platforms defense system, normally passive, scored the hit of Five when both crafts veered to close to its sensor range. With a brilliant explosion five disappeared.

“I knew that Nine was the best-after all he is of my lineage,” Thynn told the hovering droid behind him.

“And log the,,”

“Kill, yes sir,” the admin droid finished. Thynn scowled at the droid.

 

In front of Thynn the monitoring board lit up like a Coruscant skyline. Three torpedos, all fired from the damaged B-wing now limping back to action hurtled towards Nine.

"Move you drunk!” Thynn screamed. The a-wing just sat there. Evidently Nine pushed his engines to hard and theyÌd died out. Thynn could read the nervousness on the drunk’s face and could read it in his actions- he was hitting buttons that had nothing to do with the engines.

“Damn it, I'll have to deal with fat pigs all over my imp deuce now,” Thynn cursed.

A brief flash of light from the A-Wings rear and it’s engines cut in, the small ship taking off full speed. The torpedos whizzed passed, failing to lock on the tiny A-Wing.

“Must have been a dumb fire,” Thyn observed as the torpedos exploded uselessly in space.

Coming around, the A-Wing sped towards the wounded B-Wing as the T-shaped craft let loose volley after volley of torpedoes. The nimble A-Wing shot them down with ease, except for one. Dropping in behind the A-Wing, the small craft pulled another bootlegger and headed for the station.

“What is he heading towards,” Thyn began when the answer hit him like a load of duracrete. He had just enough to to slam his fist against the blast door controls and seal the hanger when the A-Wing broke off and the proton torpedo weaved and dodged two turbolaser blasts, its pinpoint profile slamming into the side of the station.

The explosion racked the station, and a succession of smaller blasts erupted along its equator. Communications were completely offline and the only power was the backup generators that kicked on, illuminating the station in an eerie red glow.

On the monitor directly in front of Thyn, the B-Wing, twisted in the dead of space, it’s canopy blown open from blaster fire.

“Leutenant Burkke! I want Nine brought in immediately! I want his caracas drug in here and planted like a weed!” Thyn shouted into his comm.

A moment later a weak voice replied, “Sensors indicate it went into hyperspace Admiral”

“WHAT?! These crafts were not equipped with hyperdrives!”

Thyn could hear the sound of rustling flimplast and silent cursing. “Uh, sir? Jahnsen in the repair bay said a requisition came down to install a hyperdrive on an A-Wing last night. Said it was put on rush order.”

“ And who authorized THAT?” Thyn screamed.

Silence. He already knew the answer.

“ It was approved by way of a hand scan sir. Apparently the DNA recorded matched-well, yours.”

About an hour later, Thyn was still staring out into the black of space when his Chief Leutenant reported to him.

“I want a full report of what occurred here within the hour, and bring in Xi-9’s genetic data disk,” he ordered, still staring at the scraps of ships that floated listlessly through space.

“Yes Sir” piped out the lieutenant.

Thyn turned a snarl on the man. “ And next time don't show up in a damaged uniform. Dismissed.”

The End