Chapter Text
A lone Incom T-65 X-Wing streaks through the chaotic maw of an asteroid field, its hull flashing with reflected green light as angry blaster bolts streak past, missing their mark. Troy Barnes, ace pilot of the Rebel Alliance, cuts his starfighter hard to starboard, skimming the surface of a massive asteroid, hoping to shake his pursuer.
Seconds behind him, quad blaster cannons mounted on the tips of the dagger-like wings of an Imperial TIE/IN interceptor fire another burst of acid green energy as its twin ion engines scream in furious chase. Abed Nadir, ace pilot of the Galactic Empire, coldly locks his targeting computer on the enemy’s starfighter with inhuman precision.
“I have you now,” Abed says, his voice mechanically distorted by the death mask helmet’s respirator as the computer beeps with a positive lock. He fires a heat-seeking missile, because they added missiles for more dynamic gameplay.
Troy’s canopy flashes in alarm at the incoming missile. He waits one, two, three seconds before dropping his flares, which divert the missile, causing the deadly projectile to detonate prematurely. The explosion temporarily blinds Abed as flames wash out his canopy. Troy grins as he boosts, then drifts a full one-eighty until his fighter craft is nose to nose with Abed’s.
Abed narrowly dodges the incoming streaks of red laser fire, knowing his lightly armored and completely unshielded craft will not survive a joust against the more resilient Rebel spacecraft. The Empire really went for quantity over quality. Still, his ship is faster and more maneuverable, and if he can just get back on Troy’s six, he’ll have another X-Wing to paint on his fuselage.
Unfortunately, Troy knows his opponent better than anyone, and manages to catch Abed’s flank. He sticks close to him, straining the limits of his ship’s engines to keep pace with the faster ship. “I’m on your six,” Troy boasts through his intercom.
Abed still has a few tricks up his sleeve. He dumps all his reserve power into his weapons, before cutting the engines entirely. Troy, not expecting to keep up, let alone surpass his prey, overshoots him, leaving his X-Wing exposed to incoming fire.
“Now I’m on your six,” Abed says, affecting a little Jeff Winger cockiness in his tone. It seems appropriate for this character. He fires. Two of his blaster bolts hit their mark, sapping Troy’s shield with the first hit and igniting his dorsal starboard engine with the second. Troy’s trusty astromech quickly puts out the engine fire, but the shield generator is shot, and without it, he’s literally one wrong turn from certain death.
Troy weighs his options. He could try the same braking feint that Abed did to him, but Abed is unlikely to fall for the same trick he tricked Troy with. It certainly never works when they play Rock, Paper, Scissors.
Abed’s ship is faster and more maneuverable. Abed is the more skilled pilot. However, he’s also more predictable, and if there’s one thing that humans are better at than Vulcans, it’s improvisation. So, Troy does the only thing he can think of.
He flies like an idiot.
Troy jerks the stick wildly, like a manic child. His X-Wing banks out into the open, then plummets down towards the surface of the asteroid. Tiny rocks plink against his canopy, cracking the glass without shattering it outright.
“Must go faster,” Troy says, gritting his teeth, sweat glistening on his brow.
“Stay on target,” Abed replies, trying to match Troy’s movements without success.
Troy’s instrument panel goes haywire as the bottom of his fighter scrapes the surface of the asteroid. Something large and metallic falls off. Hopefully it wasn’t important.
The two fighters veer into a canyon, as starfighters often do during dogfights. The walls seem to close in around them as they zip through the tight, claustrophobic space at breakneck speed. Abed’s targeting computer beeps with a successful lock. He squeezes the trigger.
His shots fly wild as his wing clips a nearby rock. More focused on the kill than his surroundings, Abed’s error is catastrophic. The obsidian solar panels that make up his left wing spark and shatter and his crippeled fighter spins out of control out of the canyon and into the black. A lot like Darth Vader’s TIE Fighter did in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope .
Star Wars Episodes I, II, and III do not exist. And that’s canon.
Troy and Abed share a double five as they watch the Rebel Alliance victory animation play out on the screen. Abed takes off his bulky black TIE pilot helmet, which is basically nothing but a handicap in terms of gameplay, but he’s a stickler for realism.
“You’re getting a lot better at Star Wars, Troy,” Abed says proudly.
“Thanks. It’s too bad this doesn’t really translate to flying real spaceships,” Troy says, looking thoughtfully at the holographic controller in his lap. Technically everything in this living room is a hologram, including the living room itself. “It would come in handy in class.”
“True. Most video game skills don’t seem to be transferable,” Abed agrees. “Although if we ever visit a planet inhabited by Pokémon, we’ll be ready.”
Troy’s eyes light up. “I wanna go to Planet Pokémon!” he says eagerly.
“I don’t think that’s a real planet.”
“For real? Ugh. Space is so boring!” Although Troy could not have known, if he had been on the bridge as he said this, he would’ve seen a seventy foot tall being identical in all other meaningful respects to Jimmy Carter drifting past the ship. It’s easy to miss out on the wonders and absurdities of space travel while working on the lower decks.
“What are you two doing?” a voice calls out from behind them, oldly. The pair look behind the couch to see Pierce staring at them curiously, the holodeck doors closing and vanishing behind him.
“Playing video games,” Troy says nonchalantly.
Pierce looks perplexed. “You have a room that can be anything and you use it to do this?” he asks incredulously.
Troy and Abed both nod, unfazed. “This is what we want to do.” Abed says.
“Why?”
“Because it’s fun.” Troy adds.
Pierce ponders this for a moment, still unsure why anyone would play video games in a room capable of simulating naked Orion women, but decides against making an issue out of it in favor of inserting himself into and hopefully sharing in their fun. “I call next!” he declares, taking a seat between the two younger men on the couch.
Troy and Abed share a look and a shrug before Abed hands Pierce his controller. It’s probably safer to include him.
"Space…the final frontier," Captain Craigory Dean Pelton narrates into the stars. "These are the voyages of the U.S.S. Greendale. Her ongoing mission, to try not to crash into strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations, preferably without killing them. To boldly go where dozens of other ships have gone before!"
Star Trek: Greendale
Starring
Joel McHale as Ensign Jeff Winger
Alison Brie as Ensign Annie Edison
Gillian Jacobs as Ensign Britta Perry
Danny Pudi as Ensign Abed
Donald Glover as Ensign Troy Barnes
Yvette Nicole Brown as Shirley
With
Ken Jeong as Lieutenant Chang
John Oliver as Counselor Ian Duncan
Jonathan Banks as Lt. Cmdr. Buzz Hickey
Paget Brewster as Commander Frankie Dart
Jim Rash as Captain Craig Pelton
And
Chevy Chase as Ensign Pierce Hawthorne