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Thread: Veerak Bracknacker

  1. #1
    Back in a variety of colors
    Join Date
    October 2002
    Alaska, the Hoth of this World!

    Default Veerak Bracknacker

    Ok guys. This is my first attempt at creating Fan Fic. Although I have been writting for a long time, this is a first for fan fiction. I am going to try to get this on the Journal. There will be stats for all the vessels and charaecters mentioned. Please let me know what you think! Part 2 will be coming fairly soon. So without futher ado, here is the tale of fighter pilot Veerak Bracknacker...

    “Veerak, roll! Roll!”
    The person in question, Veerak, dropped his fighter into a crazy spin and saw the Vernpine whiz past, shatter bundles flying past. Veerak straightened out his flight line and brought his SC-4 up behind the Vernpine. His twin heavy cannons opened up, pouring a heavy rain of red bolts, dancing in space. The Vernpine’s very nimble fighter flipped over and slipped across the bolts, having only one or two graze it. He tried to follow the maneuver but his more sluggish fighter couldn’t match the agility. He began to cursed vehemently. He cursed his SC-4 Faithful fighter, he cursed the Darzhok Vernpine fighter, he cursed Paplatine for creating a New Order, and he cursed the Vernpines for resisting that creation. And especially he cursed himself for joining the 110th Fighter Sector Protection Squadron.
    The enemy pilot brought his fighter easily threw a loop and came around to Veerak’s exposed flank. Veerak swore again and pushed his fighter to the envelope, diving as hard as he could, trying to capture some of the gravity coming off of the Dreadnought. The SC-4 whipped past the Dreadnought and circled it. Coming up underneath, Veerak risked a glance back towards the Darzhok. It was gaining distance fast, angling its very deadly shatter gun right at his side. He saw the brief line appear then disappear and saw the white glowing bundle come towards him. He knew in that glowing bundle was many little shells that would turn his vessel into Squib cheese. The only thing to do was to try side-slipping his vessel and have it pass over him. The fighter’s engine groaned under the strain as it turned sideways and spiraled downwards. The deadly bundle passed but the Vernpine had a good shot lined up now as it rotated over and swung downwards. The twin blaster cannons opened up and scored several hits on his rear side.
    Great. My engine is going to get slagged. If only the shields hold. They did. Glancing at his display, he was down to 21% shield power. The ship shuddered. 9%.
    “I need help here! I’ve got a bogey and it is not coming lose!” he yelled to his squadmates. If this fighter did not get off his tail, and now, he was dead.
    “Hang on Elta Four, this is Dog Nine. Pull around the north pole of the Peacemaker.” The second fighter squadron pilot was on the other side of the Dreadnought. It would take several seconds to get over there. Veerak tried to coax more out of his severely overtaxed fighter. He continued to roll the fighter over the Dreadnought, the Vernpine’s blaster fire trailing after him. There was a massive explosion and something flared off to the side. He saw one of his atmospheric stabilizer fins get ripped off. Oh well. At least he wasn’t fighting planetside.
    “Come on baby. Just hang together.” He was over the top of the Dreadnought and saw two headhunters coming up the other side. A Darzhok caught one with a shatter gun bundle and shredded it. He groaned.
    “Elta Four, break….now!” Veerak hurled his fighter to the side and were he had been was filled with blaster fire, this time coming from the Z-95. The Vernpine caught it in the cockpit and tried to eject. Too late, the fighter came apart and pieces flew everywhere. One caught the headhunter in the nose and, for a split second, the pilot lost control. It was all another Vernpine following the Z-95 needed. Veerak watched the headhunter get shredded by shatter gun fire. Veerak pulled away from the fray and glanced over the battle.
    The Dreadnought Peacemaker was dueling it out with two Dai’kon-class Vernpine corvettes. And losing. The two planetary squadrons were being decimated by the fifteen Darzhok Vernpine fighters. He watched another SC-4 take several hits by blaster fire, lose his shields, and get torn by a shatter gun. The pilot ejected, only to be sliced by spinning metal. Veerak turned his fighter back into the fray and targeted another fighter. It was going to be a rough fight.
    Forty-five minutes later, Veerak floated EV above the wreckage of the Peacemaker. The Vernpine had hyperspaced long ago and now he awaited the rescue craft. It was the end of the Clone Wars, the deadly war that had claimed the lives of many, including his brother and father. With the Separatists falling away and going into hiding, Paplatine had claimed a reorganization of the Republic, a New Order he called it. He, of course, was proclaimed Emperor. With the emergency powers at his control, he could do it.
    Veerak did not like to think about it. It wasn’t his place and besides, he was far away from Corscaunt, in the Outer Rim. He lived on Serndipal, a planet that was detached from the Core. Serndipal contained two fighter groups, 1st and 2nd Sector Groups. Both were operated by the sector government that ruled over the three or four systems, which contained Serndipal. The sector government sent a senator to the Imperial Senate to represent itself. The whole military force that sector government owned was the Peacemaker, which was gone, and two Corellian Support Frigates. Plus two brand-new Tailwind frigates currently fighting another Vernpine incursion.
    The Empire had ordered all Vernpine under control of Imperial Production Bureau. Naturally the Vernpine hated this and offered resistance. Veerak could understand how they felt. Being enslaved by this new government was not right, but who was he to say? Besides, Morale Monitors discouraged that kind of talk.
    A shuttle dropped out of hyperspace and began to pick up the wounded first, then headed his way. He felt the tractor beam grab him and suck upwards…

    Veerak turned the shower off and stepped out. He dried himself and dressed quickly. It was very early in the morning but he agreed to meet one of his friends, a Woostoid by the name of Al’shep, at the base restaurant. Veerak made his way down the corridor and out of the pilot housing bunker. He stepped out side and into the sun. It was a fairly beautiful day, the sun beam down and he could just make out the orbital spaceport above. He waved down a hoversled and told the driver to take him the restaurant. Few minutes later, he entered the restaurant, called Flight’s Failure. It held pictures of all the pilots killed in action or crashed. Veerak wondered why they made it so discouraging to go in there.
    There over at the corner, away from the few people that interspaced the restaurant, sat his friend. Veerak made his way through the fairly empty place and instantly knew something was wrong.
    “Hey Al’shep. What’s up?” Veerak dropped into booth on the other side.
    Al’shep frowned at him and waved at the waiter. “A Vat 97.” He said at the waiter. The droid nodded and whirred away.
    Now he knew that there really was something wrong. Al’shep almost never drank. “Ok Al, what is wrong? What’s going on?”
    “You remember Tuba?”
    He certainly did. Tuba was an Ortalan who got a job as a secretary to an official that was an advisor to Palpatine’s cabinet. Everyone teased him as being a kiss-up to politics. “Ya? So?”
    “Well I got word from him. Palpa…the Emperor is considering absorbing all independent military forces into the Imperial Navy.”
    “You’re kidding. The Empire would never do that! It would rob all the planets of any private protection.”
    “Yes. And what would it do to us?”
    That took him back. It would mean…Veerak would become a pilot of the Imperial Navy. He didn’t like that thought at all.
    Al’shep watched his face as it dawned on him. Neither of them said any thing else because the waiter pulled up. They drink the wine, talked about a few meaningless things then left. Al’shep said bye and head towards the clerk’s office. Veerak glanced at his chrono-meter. It was about time for the morning report.

    Veerak was listening to the briefing without much interest. His group commander was mostly going over their last engagement. He hoped Al’shep was wrong. The new Empire had been content to let the sector governments retain control of their territories. If this did happen, it would be the first time the Empire would imposed direct cut of freedom. The sector governments wouldn’t stand for it.
    As Veerak listened to his CO talk about the Vernpine, he began to think. Isn’t that what the Vernpine were doing right now, objecting to destruction of freedom?
    After the briefing Veerak headed towards his room to get ready for the morning flight. His group commander, an Iktotchi who had limited training by the Jedi but dropped out due to unknown reasons, was in the hallway, getting a caffeine-laden drink from a dispenser.
    “Hi Cap’tn”
    The horned humanoid glanced at him and nodded. “Veerak, what’s happen?”
    Everyone liked the Captain. He was friendly, intelligent and a kriffing good pilot. He had trained with the Jedi but, as he had said himself, “They are wussy”. He could see the future fairly well, and his training focused on furthering that ability, so he got so good at it that he could predict what would happen in a dogfight. He also could see big changes in the galaxy, although some had dismissed his predictions. However, when he predicted a big war with clones, and it happened, everyone begin to pay attention.
    “Well, Captain Tuber, I have heard some rumors and was wanting to talk to you about….” Tuber shushed him and glanced around. He waved Veerak into his private quarters. Once inside, Tuber stared hard at him. “What have you heard?”
    “Not much, just Al’shep said that the Empire might absorb the governmental fleets into the Imperial Navy.”
    “How did he know?”
    “Tuba, sir.”
    “The idiot. He going to end up dead.”
    “Who, Al’shep?”
    “No! Tuba. The Emperor won’t allow someone to blubber like that.”
    Veerak shifted uncomfortable. He was not liking were this was going. “Well sir, I was wondering if you knew any thing?”
    The captain glanced around again, even though they were in his apartment. “Well…I have seen things. All my kind has. We are getting ready to leave.”
    Veerak’s eye widened. “What!? Where are you going?”
    “We are going to retreat to my Homeworld. Come with us! There are dark times ahead, very dark time. I….well….I am fearful about what is going to happen.”
    Veerak looked at him puzzled. This was not making sense. “What do you mean? What is going to happen?”
    Tuber dropped onto his bed and shook his head. “Bad things are going to happen to the Jedi. And….and…I fear for those who have had contact with the Jedi. I….never mind.”
    Now he was sure the captain was off his rocker. “I am sure it is the stress of the Vernpine Insurrection sir. You probably just need some rest. Why don’t you take a couple days leave?”
    Tuber nodded. “Maybe your right. I don’t know. Anyways, I am taking several months off and am heading to my Homeworld, just in case. Why don’t you come with? Take some time off?”
    He pondered it. It would be nice to have a vacation but… going to a bunch of force-freaks’ planet did not seem fun. “No thanks sir. The squad needs me. I am going to stay on for awhile, at least until the Vernpine settle down.”
    Tuber nodded and headed towards the door. Veerak followed and exited the room, Tuber remaining behind. “Oh and Veerak…”
    Veerak stopped and turned. “Yes sir?”
    “Don’t go to Alderaan.”
    “Why sir?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve just got this feeling.”
    And with that Tuber closed his door, leaving Veerak staring at the door and pondering that weird statement.

    Veerak was tired. He had a deep-space recon mission and he was only half way through. Deep-space missions were irritating because of the boredom. It was always quiet on deep-space missions. Also Hours and hours of staring at blackness, Watching little pin-points of lights did not help. Sometime deep-space pilots would go crazy, their minds a blank after dealing with nothing for that length of time. And then deep-space missions were also tense, because no one knew what could happen. You just expected…something!
    Veerak glanced at his display. Nothing was on his scanners, cranked up to the max to try to pick up something, anything. He wished something would happen. Anything. It was very quiet and his nerves were raw after waiting. He was sick of watching the same holo-drama on his mini-holo projecter over and over again.
    Overhead floated three more SC-4s. One to his right and one to his left. All that was left of his squad after yesterday’s fight. The SC-4s were brand-new and he doubted that they would be getting new fighters anytime soon. In front of them, plodding along, were three Joint Defense Turret Fighters or Nerfs as everyone called them. He was glad he didn’t have to fly one of those. They were slow, awful to maneuver and ugly. Everyone hated them.
    His wingmate, a talkative Quarren, was very quiet. He had lost his friend to the Vernpines in the last scrap. He clicked his com to his wingmate’s channel. “Elta Five, Elta four here. How are you doing?”
    “Fine Elta Four. All clear.”
    At that moment, a vessel popped out of hyperspace and his scanners began to beep. Bringing up details, Veerak saw that it was an Action IV freighter. It was an Imperial freighter. Veerak frowned. There was not supposed to be any traffic in this area. This wasn’t right.
    His squadron commander, human Lt. Rayford, was already on the commlink, “Freighter, this is Lt. J. B. Rayford, of the 110th Fighter Sector Protection Squad. You are in restricted area. Please respond.” Nothing came back. The freighter just hanged there in space. Veerak armed his weapon systems and opened up the squadron channel. “Commander, this isn’t right. I think this is a trap.”
    “Copy Elta Four. You and Five, take a closer look.”
    “Roger sir.” Veerak throttled forward and broke formation. He sailed by one of the Nerfs and approached the freighter. He began to scan the thing, detailing cargo and ship systems. The freighter was void of all life. “Commander, vessel has no lifeforms. I am picking up nothing sir. Nothing at all.”
    Veerak turned his fighter around and begin to head back to the formation. His wingmate lined up behind him.
    And then the galaxy exploded. Fire and death rained upon him. He was tumbling and there was a hissing sound somewhere. Slowly, the shattered pieces of space came back together and he was aware of a voice, gaining volume. It sounded like, “ALERT! ALERT! CRITCAL! CRITCAL!”
    The whiteness faded and he started to see his flight stick and control board, which was blinking red. Other voices too begin to be heard. “Help! Losing control on port one-oh-one.”
    “Fighters, three coming onto the degrees 345, vector three.”
    Veerak struggled to comprehend it all and then realized he was tumbling. He grabbed his controls and straightened out. Damage reports came in. His engine was damaged but going strong. And his shields were gone along with several breaches in his hull. Oh well, he thought, who needs shields anyways? A dozen Darzhok fighters were swarming over his squad. The freighter had exploded and destroyed his wingmate plus wiping out one of their Nerfs.
    He brought his damaged fighter towards a Nerf. The Nerf was trying to outrun two Darzhoks, impossible to say the least, but it had a gunboat blaster turret that was keeping them off its tail. Swinging his fighter behind one of them, he opened up with his lasers, keeping them on linked mode. He caught a fighter in the back and hit the big torpedo hanging underneath. It shattered the underneath of the fighter and the fighter began to unravel. Veerak dropped out from behind to avoid the torrent of parts from the now molten heap that was tumbling in space.
    The second Darzhok took a direct hit from the turret and then other hit on its wing. The wing holding the blaster cannon ripped off. Veerak caught it in a blast, shredding its shields and punching into the small cockpit. The vessel erupted into flames.
    “Thanks!” the pilot of the Nerf said. Blaster fire rained on them and Veerak watched a shatter gun bundle rip out the cockpit of the Nerf he just saved. The rest of it streaked along, and then caught fire. He could hear the screams of the trapped crew until more blaster fire smashed into the crippled craft and put them out of their misery.
    Veerak moved his fighter up and over, finding another target. His vessel rocked as a target found him. He juked left, then span upwards, trying to hammerhead. His vessel came downwards, past the Darzhok, and straightened out. The Darzhok completed the loop, coming down right on top of him. He fired a proton torpedo and watched it leap out and stall. This one did not get fired but just was shoved out the port by gas emissions. He raced by the torpedo then activated the controls to manually detonate it. The Darzhok came right after him and caught the blast. It was torn to shreds instantly.
    The trick only worked once. The Vernpine caught on fast and because of their ability to instantly communicate, tactics were figured out rapidly. He dropped down on another Vernpine. The enemy fighter leaped away from him, dancing and spinning crazily. He pulled his fighter after him, watching the black space burst here and there with color and explosions. The Vernpine was trying to out climb him. He poured on the speed and tried to match the Vernpine’s velocity. Suddenly, the fighter kicked over and rotated. He squeezed off a shot, trying to hit the now exposed flank. He missed and the fighter bursted towards him, got off one or two really bad shots then dived into a loop. He pulled up and over, trying to meet him when he began his ascent mid-way in the loop.
    Veerak had a good shot but the Vernpine cut his engines, kicked the yoke, and fell sideways out of Veerak’s crosshairs. Veerak was now pointed at the Vernpine, which was sideways and falling down, plus Veerak was rising. He pointed down so he was now above the enemy. A perfect shot and the Vernpine could do nothing. He squeezed several shots and watched his enemy eject and explode. A smile cam across his face and Veerak pushed his fighter open, throttling back to the fray.
    Or what was left of it. A Nerf and two SC-4s were left. A single Vernpine was fleeing. Space was quiet again.

    More later!
    Talon Razor -
    Like aliens, Marines, political struggles, Firefly and Cyberpunk? Yea, I thought so!

    Full Throttle
    Publisher of: Dice Theory - Currently looking for new staff members, Re-launch in Summer 2006

  2. #2


    Save for some gramatical errors good job!
    Learn well the arts of reading, writing, and listening true, and you will recieve the greatest gift of all, understanding.

  3. #3
    Darth Fury

    Thumbs up

    Excellent story, Talon.
    Please write more soon.

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