Garik Antocha was in one of many mission briefing rooms on the Star Destroyer Tyrant, seated in front of his squadron leader, Flight Captain Kael. Garik, along with over half the other pilots in the room with him, had only recently been brought in as replacements for the heavy losses the squadron had sustained during the battle of Turkana. The feeling from the survivors was palpable in room. They wanted revenge, and Imperial Central Command had only been too happy to offer them the opportunity. A large rebel presence had been discovered in the Tion Hegemony, a state that had been generously granted some amount of autonomy despite it's Seperatist ties during the Clone Wars. The Tyrant was being sent to attack one of the rebel bases within the region, as well as the planet that had been harboring them. Codenamed Operation Strike Fear, Kael outlined the squadron's mission. "Once we exit hyperspace, our group will be responsible for establishing orbital superiority over the planet. While First Squadron stays back in reserve, Third Squadron and us will be out front on reconnaissance. We're the tip of the spear today, pilots. Follow your flight commanders, and remember your training."
It wasn't long before Kael dismissed the squadron to their craft, and the more veteran pilots began filing out of the room. The others, like Garik, hadn't been acquainted yet. Operation Strike Fear would be their first mission together, and some miniscule part of Garik felt compelled to get a good hard look at who would be flying with him. Against his better judgement he approached the wing-man he had been assigned, Lieutenant Cora Tarneia, and inspected her like an instructor from the Academy might, maybe for a little too long. Her hair seemed to meet military regulation, which made a good first impression on him. He tried to find the right words to say to her, but ended out blurting: "Lieutenant Antocha. Don't get me killed."
It wasn't long before Kael dismissed the squadron to their craft, and the more veteran pilots began filing out of the room. The others, like Garik, hadn't been acquainted yet. Operation Strike Fear would be their first mission together, and some miniscule part of Garik felt compelled to get a good hard look at who would be flying with him. Against his better judgement he approached the wing-man he had been assigned, Lieutenant Cora Tarneia, and inspected her like an instructor from the Academy might, maybe for a little too long. Her hair seemed to meet military regulation, which made a good first impression on him. He tried to find the right words to say to her, but ended out blurting: "Lieutenant Antocha. Don't get me killed."