The two of them banked against the stars.Īhead, Keo could make out a faint golden veil, the leading traces of the Ringali Nebula that weaves its way across the Bormea Sector. His deep voice crackled over the comm again. Its fuselage visibly quivered as it tried to keep up. Keo Venzee opened their eyes and looked to their right, grinning at the Y-wing bomber with green-and-blue detailing now flying alongside. You know that, with the same calm certainty that you know your own name. A fraction too low or too high, and you risk a stall - a disaster for you and your squadron in combat. The engine vibration, transmitted through the balls of your feet and the fine bantha leather of your gloves on the throttle, is like the tone on a viol string to a trained musician.
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