This is My first Submission to FanFiction.
Please Review.
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-Red Tempo
(p.s., sorry about the short first chapter, more to follow)
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The ringing alarm bells of a mod-starbridge will awake anybody and Captain Mark Dreppin was no exception. Jumping out of his bunk he quickly looked at the radar screen. His analytic mind immediately started working out a pla
"2 pirate vipers 3:00 closing fast."
Jumping into the pilot's seat and grabbing the controls he started warming up the medium blasters. 38 seconds. Not bad he thought.
Before the vipers could even get within firing range Dreppin had the after burners nice and hot and the missile launchers blazing. The vipers didn't stand a chance against him. Turning the MainStar about he opened fire with the medium blaster. One of the vipers lost and engine and crashed into an asteroid. The other was pockmarked with scorch marks. Loosing another volley of missiles Dreppin was pouring on the blaster fire. Finally the pirate captain couldn't take it anymore and decide to look for a less experienced captain to loot.
Breathing a sigh of relief Dreppin sat back in the pilot seat. Setting the ship computer to hyper-jump to Koria he walked slowly back to his bunk and fell back asleep.
Flashback 25 years.
At fifteen Mark Dreppin was at the top of his pilot's-ed division. At sixteen, he got his pilots license and set the galactic record for youngest certified pilot. On his eighteenth birthday he joined the federation navy, where hi quickly rose in the ranks. Three years later he single-handedly beat back and Auroran raid, saving many lives and almost dieing in the process. He was awarded the Purple Heart by the president of the Federation himself. Then, at 25 he was tracked down by the Bureau of Internal Investigation (BII) to be Commander Krane's Personal Bodyguard. After 13 years of 24/7 services to the Feds, he decided to take 2-month vacation on New Ireland, where he was personally trained be Eamon Flannigan in the Heron Fighting styles. Mark had the master's tattoo after two weeks.
Slowly opening his eyes and yawning, Mark felt refreshed. He lethargically walked to and slumped into the pilots seat for the reentry of true space. He had radioed ahead and the station he was headed for, Rebel Two, was expecting him. He disabled the hyper-flux generator, and buckled in.
Suddenly the swirls of hyperspace gave way to the bustling system of Koria. He calmly maneuvered MainStar into the nearest docking bay and deployed the docking clamps.
Koria was official one of the only systems in open rebellion of the Federation, and Mark's job was to find out as much as possible about the rebel naval positions. Before hand the Bureau had sent out informants to spread rumors that Mark Dreppin was a treacherous lieutenant responsible for the loss of a weapons convoy. Hopefully the rebels would happily take him in.
After going through the System of airlocks, he was welcomed by General "sundown" Smart. After exchanging pleasantries Smart said, "I understand you are looking for a way to use your talents against the bureau."
"That is one was to put it." Mark said.
"Well I think I can help you there, the rebels have been needing a new squadron for some time, and it seems as though you are just the man to lead it."
Mark new that as a squadron leader he would know the exact locations of all the other rebel squads. "Tell me what to do." he said with a smile.
"Sir, I have multiple targets closing at 450 ppm (parsecs per minute)."
"Very good, carry on."
"Blaster turrets at full charge."
"Sir, I am picking up some anomalies, come take a look at this."
"Idiot, those are cloaked ships! Sound the alarm!"
The harsh claxon of an emergency blared down the hallways of the RBS Liberator (Rebel BattleShip). While the men manned their battle stations, mark Dreppin was in the escape pod, his mission completed. As the small engines of his petit craft kicked in, he was propelled directly into the hanger of one of the attacking Polaris Ravens. Immediatly his life-chamber was filled with gas and he passed out.