Eyeballs, Squints, and 'Dupes'

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Eyeballs, Squints, and 'Dupes'

Post by TalRaimi »

It was pure dumb luck. Pure… dumb… frelling… luck; at least that was the only thing that Lieutenant Cal Riven could put it down to. They had come out of hyperspace as planned on the edge of the remote Hyrial system, twelve carbon scorched X-Wings bearing Rebel markings, barely a stones throw away from the barren grey moon that orbited the systems outer planet, and there it was… an Imperial Frigate.

For the first few seconds Cal could only stare in amazement at the Frigate, tracing its lines from the boxy engines, alone the thin spine, and all the way up to the elongated command module. They couldn’t have known we were coming… they couldn’t! He blinked, a stray thought that they had been betrayed running along the edges of his mind, before being systematically dismissed. This rendezvous point had been chosen at random only moments before their hit and fade mission against the Imperial convoy had begun… there hadn’t been any way for anyone to have gotten a signal to the Imperials.

No, he decided, it was pure dumb luck; nothing more, nothing less.

“Eyeballs!”

That single word snapped him from out of his shock, the numbness of seeing the Frigate slowly ebbing away, to be replaced by a slow creeping fear that seemed to curl up and linger in the pit of his stomach; like a dragon settling itself in its lair. His sea green eyes darted to his sensor board, noting the large red blip in the center that marked the Frigate, and the smattering of smaller blips that were only just appearing from out of the larger vessel’s hold.

One squadron of eyeballs; Imperial TIE fighters to everyone else.

“Break by Flights,” the voice of Cal’s Squadron Leader came across the com, and in an odd moment of reflection Cal wondered just exactly how the man’s voice managed to come across so calm. If it had been him, his voice would have been shaking. “We’re too close to turn and run. Engage at will.”

A bitter realization followed the next moment; ‘Break by Flights;’ guess who had just been promoted to head of Two Flight?

Flicking his com over to the private channel he shared with Two Flight he tried bitterly to compose himself, this was no time to loose his nerve, the battle against the convoy had been no worse than this and everyone had gotten out safely. All well and good a part of his mind rationalized, but then you weren’t up against a full squadron of eyeballs, and a Frigate, were you?

With an eye to the sensor board, he tried to keep his voice level as he ordered; “Two Flight break to port, we’ll try to circle around and come in from their starboard side.”

And that was that… barely tens seconds after reverting to realspace he had his X-Wing looping around in a wide ark, and with an almost steady hand was ready to line up on the first TIE that crossed in front of his nose.

At his back the rest of the Squadron followed…


OOC: This is an open thread, the usual starfighter thing, with all welcome.
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Post by VagueDurin »

Rild adjusted the mask on her face as her X-Wing fighter propelled itself through hyperspace towards her Squadrons assigned RP. To those who asked, she explained that she had trouble breathing the air in her cockpit, but in all truth it was simply to cover the scars on her right cheekbone. While outside of the cockpit, she wore her ravenous black main down on the right side of her face to cover the scars, but she had to tie it in a tail while flying, thus she wore the air mask.

The counter in front of her was nearing 30 seconds, and her R5 unit chimed to alert her to this fact. "Thanks Bait." She replied. The blue and white droids designation was R5-B8, so she had affectionaly called him Bait.

The counter finally hit Zero and the mottled blues and whites of hyperspace gave way to starlines and as the snubfighter completed its rapid deacceleration, the starlines reverted back to the tiny pinpricks of light that represented distant worlds and galaxies. However, it wasn't the pinpricks that made Rilds hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, it was the omnious form of the huge Imperial Frigate that was blocking her veiw of the baren gray moon that was suspended by gravity on the other side.

“Break by Flights,” her commanders voice, barely understandable above the interference of the rebels slightly inadequate equiptment "We’re too close to turn and run. Engage at will.”

“Two Flight break to port, we’ll try to circle around and come in from their starboard side.” That was Cal Riven, her most recent leader.

Rild looked at her scanner swiftly, before activating her comm. "Seven tuck in aft and port and try to keep up."

"Funny Hex, real funny." Came sevens reply over the comm.

The wing pair gave action to words as the executed an almost synchronized corkscrewed climb before dropping into a standard weave pattern to dodge whatever the imperial's throw out them...
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Post by Jack_Sigma »

He could see the field, wind blowing through his hair as the endless horizon of waving grass created tides and ebbs like a living ocean of green. Nothing impeded his forward progress, and the encumberances of the machine he was sitting on disappeared... he was flying, truly flying. A series of beeps made Wreyn Dei'l look down at his speeders controls, and as he looked back up, the grass was gone, replaced by a swirling tunnel of blue and white, brilliant and beautiful in its own right. The Bothan sighed, lifting his hand to rub his eye, only to have it bump into the visor of his flight helmet. He had fallen asleep with the visor down again... meant that he had just faded again.

It was strange, whenever Wreyn was in space, he always dreamed of the ground, and speeding through the wind, but whenever he was landlogged for any period of time, the shapes of hyperspace tunnels would whisper through his head, refusing to leave him alone. In the end Wreyn preferred space because of the lack of all boundries, but he missed the wind.

Another series of beeps finally dragged Wreyn back into reality, and the pilot felt himself in his seat. Blip, Wreyn's sometimes not so trusty R2 unit, beeped again and Wreyn's eyes counted down the hyperspace timer on his HUD and Wreyn pulled back on the hyperspace lever, to bring his ship into realspace.

The quick flutter of excitement Wreyn still felt before assuming the controls to his X-Wing, even after years of flying, flashed through the pilot, and then he was in the black of space, stars sprinkling his vision, a sea of freedom.

Unfortunately for Wreyn as alarms flew to life all over his cockpit, freedom wasn't exactly as happy to see him as he was to see it. In fact, the sea of freedom had absolutely nothing free about it, but was already occupied by a large and very hostile serpent. Mind snapping from philosophy to business, Wreyn's hands were ablaze over his controls as his eyes swallowed every gague and indicator. The fight at the convoy had depleted some of Wreyn's fuel, and he was low a few proton torpedos, but otherwise he was in good shape. The convoy assault hadn't been much of a challenge, but Wreyn held no such illusions for this one.

The comm screamed.

"Eyeballs!"

Wreyn muttered something about stating the obvious as the TIE's began to bear down from the Frigate and the distance counter started it's race to zero.

"Break by Flights." The commander, and this time, the comm wasn't spouting irrelevant nonsense. Lieutenant Wreyn Dei'l, ninth member of his squadron and head of Three Flight was all business as his left hand switched on his flight comm channel and his voice was steady as he called his squad to attention,

"Three Flight, form on me, we're going under these guys. Call in and assemble."

His flight called in and formed up, and in a second, four X-Wings were on their way towards a serious fight.
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Post by TalRaimi »

OOC: Hey Jack! Good to have you aboard buddy, long time no see.

IC: Finger tightening on the trigger, four ruby red bolts of laser fire lanced out into the black horizon before him, narrowly missing the distinctive hexagonal solar panels of the Imperial TIE fighter he had been aiming for. Damn.

“You missed,” the dry voice of Cal’s wingman called over the com.

For a moment Cal considered some sort of retort, but after a second dismissed the idea, right now he had bigger things to worry about, such as the TIE trio that was turning to come in on his wing-pairs tail. Breathe he instructed himself, forcing down the bile that was rising in his throat, this isn’t the first time you’ve been in combat; hell it’s the second time in one day!

Telling himself to stop acting like a rookie he stood the X-Wing up on its port s-foil and brought the flight stick all the way back to his midriff, grimacing as his stomach fluttered momentarily before the inertial compensator kicked in. Behind him his sensors showed his Elysian Six tucking in neatly aft, followed by the three TIE’s, including the one that he had just shot at.

Letting instinct take over the fighter’s controls, putting them through a series of evasive rolls and loops, he put his mind to work on a way to out flank the TIE’s. Can’t out turn them, they’re faster and more maneuverable.

Bursts of hazy green laser fire flashed past his cockpit, eliciting an electronic scream of terror from Clunk, his R5 unit. Cal could well understand the little droids terror, he wasn’t far short of screaming himself.

“Hey boss,” his wingman asked, “We about to loose these guys on our tail anytime soon?”

“I’m working on it,” Cal shot back a tense reply. He was working on it, he really was, only so far he was coming up blank.

Okay, his mind reasoned, perhaps he was over thinking things. If the TIE was faster and more agile than his fighter, perhaps he should play to the X-Wing’s strengths. Clicking his com, he quickly explained his idea to Six. Okay, he took a nervous breath, rolling the X-wing out of a steep turn, here goes nothing.

“Execute,” he called, and as one the two X-Wing applied full right rudder and brought their noses around to face the oncoming TIE’s, while at the same time shifting their shields fully forward.

The TIE’s came on, following Cal neatly out of his role, and ran headlong into a barrage of laser fire. Quad linked bursts shredded through the lead fighter, puncturing the eyeball cockpit and blasting into the fuel tanks, turning the tiny vessel into a bright orange ball of flame.

One down.

The second TIE died a similar death as Six’s prolong barrage of fire raked along the hex wing as the pilot tried desperately to role out to port, the solar panel crumpling and buckling before finally breaking free and sending the damaged TIE spinning off uncontrollably to port.

Two Down.

The third TIE though was not about to die so easily. Trailing its two wingmates, the eyeball had time to realize what the X-Wing’s had planned, and as soon as it saw them rudder around it opened up with a full burst of laser fire. Emerald fire splashed against Cal’s shields and he filched with the impact. Having just executed a rudder turn it was taking a second or two for the X-Wing’s engines to adjust to Cal’s new direction and so he was still traveling backwards, and was in no position to evade the TIE’s deadly laser fire.

Hold together baby, hold together, he prayed frantically as the onslaught continued to beat down his shields. Green, Yellow, Red… their statue lights shrieked at him… and then…

“Frell me! You okay boss?”

The TIE flashed past on Cal’s starboard wing, and finally he was able to throttle the X-Wing back up to normal and roll off in the opposite direction. “I’m still here if that’s what you mean,” Cal retorted, finding that despite the fact his body was physically shaking, his voice was not.

“Well alright, let’s go get the one that got away!”

Glancing down at his shield board and seeing no lights whatsoever to indicate that they were still there, Cal suppressed a wave of terror and pulled his mind back into the battle.

Two down, only ten to go.
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Post by Jack_Sigma »

The first order of business was to undercut the incoming TIE squadron, and for a few seconds, Wreyn found himself heading out into space, away from the fight, away from the danger, away from the action. It was an extra few seconds of rest, the calm before the storm, and Wreyn was more than ready. He lived to fly, and nothing on land could incite the same mindless carelessness that Wreyn had when he flew. Maybe it made him more reckless, but when a pilot threw his whole being into his flying, there was little more to be asked of him.

A few nervous seconds in the wrong direction, and Wreyn grinned, his lips coming up to his gums in a silent feral snarl,

"Cut up and punch it!" The command was nearly growled, but three flight didn't make any snide comments. The members of the squad knew Wreyn as a calm and levelheaded, but in a dogfight, a passion emerged in Wreyn that could scarcely be explained.

On his command, the four X-Wings faced up towards the TIEs. Having seen the undercutting X-Wings, a flight of TIEs had broken off to engage, thinking to preempt the X-Wings and come in on them from above. TIEs were faster and more maneuverable, and they naturally expected to be able to cut the turn in enough time to come up over the Rebel fighters. Unluckily for the TIEs, three flight had simmed this maneuver countless times.

Four X-Wings shifted full power to their bottom engines for a split second, making a ninety degree turn to face the ties. An instant later, four X-Wings redirected full power from their aft shields into their engines. Engine power suddenly boosted to 120%, the four X-Wings cut a much more radical loop than expected; their former forward motion had been carrying them bottom-first in the direction they had cut down, but with the extra power to the engines, the X-Wings jetted out from their position at a much wider angle than the TIEs had seen coming. The extra speed got the flight positioned without a second to spare, as a flight of desparately turning TIEs flew directly above four pairs of quad lasers.

Laser-fire converged on the group and several explosions were seen, but the debris and fire was clogging up Wreyn's radar returns, so he couldn't tell how many TIEs had actually been hit.

"Even out shields and break by wingmen, evasive maneuvers!!" Wreyn's shout came not a moment too soon, as two of the TIEs that had avoided three flight's barrage came right back through the fiery debris, using the remaining explosions of their companions as cover. Wreyn and Ten broke left, dipping into a gut-wrenching corkscrew, but not before a green lasers made their impact somewhere to the back of Wreyn's X-Wing.

"Frell! Blip, did we get those aft shields back up in time?" Wreyn's eyes split time between his whining alarms and flashing red indicators and the flashing green indicators outside that kept letting him know he couldn't stop maneuvering yet.

In response to Wreyn, Blip let out a mournful tone, "I don't care, just get them up!"

Looking out his port, Wreyn saw that Blip was indeed right. The laser cannon on Wreyn's top port s-foil had been blown clear off, leaving a stub of a wing only slightly shorter than the others.

"Fine," the Bothan spat as he and Ten found themselves on a head to head with Eleven and Twelve. Counting down to the last possible second, Wreyn finally pulled his stick back, checking only briefly to see that Ten did the same as the other members of three flight sprayed laser fire at the two TIEs following Wreyn and his wingman.

These guys are no joke...

Wondering where an Imperial Frigate had found such decent TIE pilots, Wreyn couldn't help but admiring the way the TIEs broke off a second before Wreyn himself did, sensing the criss-cross and breaking off to swoop low to avoid it, and reorient themselves on their targets.

The sweep had done its job though, buying Wreyn a few precious seconds to fiddle with his controls. "Blip, cut any power that that cannon's still trying to generate and turn the charge fully to the aft shields until I'm evened out. Once that's done, give me a better charge rate on my guns."

Another beep as the R2 unit logged the commands, and Wreyn and his wingman were diving again as more green fire exploded behind them with the TIEs' newest attack. This time though, the deadly fire splashed harmlessly against Wreyn's back shields, and the pilot allowed himself to smile again.

I made the mistake of underestimating you once, but it won't happen again...

Wheeling off in a wide arc to the left, Wreyn flipped on three flight's comm net and reeled off a quick setup. Bugging out in opposite directions, three flight's two wingman pairs split up, with the TIEs staying firmly attached to Wreyn's back. Juking every which way, the pilot knew his job for now was to keep up the chase. Aft shields wavered and grew sparse, and Wreyn counted down the seconds.

As expected, Eleven and Twelve circled back around to come up behind the two TIEs. And, as expected, the two TIEs broke off instants before the backup pair could light them up. It was a shame that even for good TIE fighter pilots, 'as expected' usually meant dead. Showing good instinct but not remarkable training, the TIEs angled up, thinking a few of their pursuers stray bolts could even hit their own companions, while giving the TIEs a minute to regroup.

This was the expected move. The very moment the TIEs made their move, Wreyn and Ten did the same, cutting as sharp a turn up as possible. Wreyn felt like he could almost hear his energy redirect system groaning from all the pressure, but suddenly, a little outside of laser range, two TIEs flew by.

Not bothering to waste shots on a target too far away, Wreyn simply gritted his teeth and flipped a tab on his control strick. A few sharp steady beeps followed as a red reticle chased a TIE in Wreyn's HUD. He could imagine the same process going on in Ten's cockpit.

And, even as the TIEs turned back down to assault the X-Wings from above once more, or at least face up in a head to head, a solid tone filled Wreyn's sensitive ears, and almost instantaneously, the Bothan's finger squeezed the trigger. Blue fire streaked out from the nose of Wreyn's X-Wing, followed immediately by another streak from Ten. Maneuvering out of the way just in case, Wreyn kept a wary eye on the red dots representing the TIEs he had just fired at,

Let's see you dodge that, Imperial scum...
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Post by Jack_Sigma »

ooc:/ Heh, glad to be aboard Tal, it really has been too long... although you know of course that our collaboration on a story most likely dooms it to inevitable abandonment..? Still, wouldn't miss the ride for the world, time to enjoy it while it lasts, eh? :P
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Post by VagueDurin »

Rild broke off her pursuit of a wingpair of Ties as the blue tail of a proton torp flashed through space inbetween her and her targets. She hazarded a momentary glance in that direction and watched as the speeding projectile found its mark and tourned the Tie Fighter into so much molten slag.

Tearing her eyes away from the superheating orange nova that once was an Imperial Fighter, Rild put her concentration back into the fight. Her opponents had taken advantage of the distraction and looped in behind her and her wingmate.

Emerald bursts of excited gas flashed by her transperisteel cockpit as she engaged in evasive maneuvers. "Break!" She shouted over the comm and the two x-wings split, Rild pulling port.

She dove immediatly while rotating the fighter ninety degrees and pulling back on the stick for all she was worth. It didn't matter, The Tie fighters were just too maneuverable outside of atmoshpere.

"Who is this Frellin Pilot?" she exclaimed as she tried desperatly to dodge the fighters blasts. "Bait shift some power from the lasers into those Aft sheilds." She ordered the droid.

The R-5 unit beeped its reply to her comand swiftly before executing the orders. Rild then excecuted a swift S-turn, a maneuver sure to work against most Imperial pilots, but she found frustratingly that this man was no normal imperial pilot. He remained firmly on her six.

"Hex..." Came a stressful call over the comm. "Need some help here, just lost my port engines... Anyone, please... I can't shake him... Arrrgh!" And even as the tears welled up in her eyes and she glanced at her screen, the blip representing seven dissapeared. Her wingmate had just been slagged.

Crystal clear green eyes burning with rage, Rild cut power to her upper engines as she pulled fiercly back on the stick. Her insides knotted, and her vision went red as she executed a nearly lethal end-over flip and tightened down on the trigger. Sending four scarlet beams of energy to converge in the center of her pursuits veiwport. She flew through the ensuing inferno and out the otherside. Now it was time to avenge her wingmans death...
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Post by sidekick »

OOC: Yes, it's a re-post from the other thread, except for the System name change, but it's because I always wanted to continue this...

IC:

The Mon Pollis was as battered as any ship in the task force destined for the Hyrial system. Although it's name made people think of grand, Calamari cruisers, it was in fact a much smaller ship, designed as a transport but modified by the ever inventive Alliance to serve as a fast fighter carrier. The hangars were in the same section as they were on the larger cruiser, but instead of holding whole squadrons of fighters, each only held six under the stubby 'wing' sections. The fighters were T-Wings, although it'd be very hard to tell right now, because they were out on duty. They were a squadron put together by their determined group leader, from whoever he could find. It led to a rather rag-tag group of snub jockies, but one which had lasted longer than the standard Rebel squad. They were the Meteors. And with the fleet so close to Eradorr, they were flying distraction for the Rebels...

--

"Rebel fighters, you are in breach of Imperal Law," came a voice as dull as the uniform it was weating "And are therefore under arrest. Power down, or face the concequences."

Jvin Qantas, otherwise known as Meteor Leader, clicked onto the Rebel only frequency. "No smart mynock comments, boys, that's exactly what they're expecting. Break into wingpairs and engage those eyeballs,"

"Give us some breathing room," added Lantern Leader "We'll drop torps as soon as we're in range,"

The customs station was growing larger in Jvin's viewport, and although it's compliment of TIEs weren't much more that dots on the sensor screen, he knew they were getting closer, too. A quick look over his shoulder told him his wingman, Tevan Ryler, had pulled in close, to keep their sensor signiture as small as possible. He was so close that Jvin could see the man's face, as business-like as ever. His expression was always one of determination, but not the right kind. Tevan 'Paycheck' Ryler used to fly for the CSA, one of the most high paying companies in the galaxy, before circumstances he'd never quite explained forced him out of it. His hate for the Imperials meant he wouldn't fly for them, and he thought too much of himself to fly for some group of pirates, so he'd chosen the Alliance. For some reason, he never seemed too happy about it.

Back in the battle, the two groups, TIEs and T-wings, met in a cloud of laser blasts and explosions. The unshielded TIEs came out worse, but the Meteors weren't exactly unscathed either.

"Leader, this is Eight. My topside engine's offline, leaking coolant everywhere!"

That was Etali Orchin, a recently liberated slave, and still not very confident. Jvin found himself having the guide the young human through the trails of becoming a fighter pilot, and although Etali was a pilot with a shocking amount of potential, he still hadn't found his feet yet.

"Don't worry Eight, jump to the rendezvous, we'll meet you there. Seven, cover him until he's gone,"

"That's a roger, Leader. Come on, little one, let's get you home."

Such talk was barely heard over the ever-present battle chatter. The sounds of pilots asking for cover, reporting status, shouting celebrations were the fighter jockeys friend, until his time 'come to an end'. But, experienced men and women were able to filter out all but the most important chhater, and that was exactly what Jvin was doing.

Ryler was still on his wing, as they cricled round to rejoin the engagement. The T-wings impressive speed and agility allowed it to have the edge on the opposing TIE Fighters - something they Imperial pilots - more familiar with fighters like the X-Wing - clearly weren't used to. Jvin and Ryler pulled round to face a pair of TIEs on a seemingly lazy turn, and opened fire. Jvins shots sheared the port solar panel off the lead TIE, sending it spinning off into space. Paycheck, ever the competitor, manged to hit his target dead centre on it's fuel cells, turning the impressive piece of technology into nothing but a ball of brilliant, orange flame.

Glancing at the snesor screen, it was clear the other Meteors had experienced similiar luck. Five of the twelve eyeballs had been destroyed or incapacitated, to only one of their own. "Good work, Meteors. One Flight, we'll give cover to the Y-Wings while they make their run. Two and Three Flights, take care of those last TIEs,"

He could almost hear Tevan groan at the thought of babysitting a bunch of Y-wings, but if they didn't give at least partial cover, the station's laser cannons would have free range on their bombers. They had to make everything look real, even if the attack was only a distraction.

The small T-wings blasted past the other fighters towards the space plaform. It was one of the Imperials 'mechano' sets, so their chief had told them. The stations that the Empire used because they could be put together in a matter of days, and modified further from that. This one, however, had not been modfied much at all. The stock weapons would prove only a minor challenge.

As soon as his R5 beeped the station had targetting him, Jvin began to jink up and down, and left and right. Green lances of energy, easily able of mashing his shields, and then his snubfighter, to pieces, filled the space around him. The other three fighters were jinking, too, but he was at the front of the assault and therefore a more high profile target. He wasn't going to let any of the gunners have the hounor of swatting him out of the sky.

Within a matter of seconds, he was close enough to begin targetting the defense emplacements accurately, and he did. Concussion misslies armed, he fired and fired until the station filled his viewpoint completely. Only then did he pull back on the flight stick, throwing himself back into the flight seat, the internal compensators not quite handling the turn.

"Report, One Flight,"

"Two, scraped three, possibly destroyed one,"

"Three, one down, one scraped,"

"Four, two scraped,"

Jvin didn't have a chance to say anything else, Lantern Leader was already speaking. "Thanks, Meteors. We've got a clear run. Lanterns, fire two,"

He was true to his word. Twenty four proton torpedoes, some of the most deadly warheads in the galaxy, leapt forward towards the station's computer core. Although the remaining gunners managed to swat some of them, the majority got through. When the explision cleared, ther was nothing left of their computer core but a smouldering crater. That brought a smile to most of the pilots, especially Jvin.

"Mission Complete. Let's head home, Lanterns,"

"You heard him, Meteors. Load up those co-ordinates and let's fly."

Thanks to the location of the station, and the lack of a gravity well, the Rebel fighters were able to dissapear off into hyperspace as quickly as they'd come. The distraction was complete, and by the time their message got back to the fleet, it'd be in hyperspace towards Hyrial . Just like them.
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Post by TalRaimi »

They were winning; albeit only just. Despite the five to one kill ratio in their favor, Cal new that the majority of his squadron were in pretty beat up shape, his own shields for one refused to come back on line, and he suspected that his shield generator had been shredded. That was why, with a wary eye on his sensor board, he was tucked neatly in beside his wingman providing what cover he could, and hoping that the battle would be over relatively soon.

“Watch that Neb B,” he warned Drak Myral, his Deveronian wingman, as the single TIE they had been chasing suddenly changed direction and headed for the cover of the Frigate.

“I think I can get him before he gets there,” the ever cocky pilot responded, boosting power to his engines as he went.

Cal groaned, watching the four red exhausts of the X-Wing as Drak surged ahead of him. With his shields shredded, and his primary power generator fluctuating there was no way for him to keep up, nevertheless he kept on after Drak, hoping that the Deveronian would be as good as his word.

That frigate was going to be a problem, Cal knew. No torps left to chase it off, he mused, I expended them all on the convoy raid. He doubted that the rest of Elysian Squadron were in any better shape, perhaps one or two pilots had a few left over, but not enough for that Frigate. Well maybe they wouldn’t have to deal with it, perhaps they could simply turn and run once the TIE’s were finished off?

Not likely.

The Elysian’s weren’t the only ones using Hyrial for a rendezvous point, without going into details he and the others had been told that multiple raids on Imperial shipping would be conducted at the same time, and Hyrial was the meet up point. Cal knew the squadron leader well enough to know that he wouldn’t turn and run, leaving behind an Imperial Frigate to ambush someone else.

Well I hope someone else has some torps, or we’re all as good as dead men.

“Got him!” Drak crowed over the com, dragging Cal’s though back into the immediate.

“All well and good but start dancing,” Cal warned, “That Neb’s got you painted.”

Sure enough dark red laser bolts began to ark out of the Imperial ship, peppering the space around Drak’s fighter in bright orange explosions. In response the Deveronian pilot began to juke and doge, turning his fighter around and shunting even more power to the engines in a desperate race to out run the Frigate’s laser fire. Cal watched on with his heart in his throat for a number of anxious seconds before finally breathing a relieved sigh as Drak slotted his X-Wing in beside him.

“Nice flying,” Cal complimented him. “So now your done with the theatrics, can we go finish off the rest of those eyeballs?”

“Sure, go ahead,” the reply came, and Cal could imagine the slightly self-satisfied smile that Drak had plastered on his face.

Sighing again, he turned his fighter around and headed back into the battle.
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Post by VagueDurin »

"Bait, get me a lock on the fighter that destroyed seven." she spoke to her droid, and the flowerpot shaped dome tweedled affirmative. Seconds later one of the bips on her radar was circled and an x placed through it. "Lets get him." she said outloud before standing her X-wing up on its side and climbing up through the void towards her prey.

Within nanoseconds she had a visual. Not too much longer and she was on the Ties six. Just when she painted him with a laser lock, the fighter juked port... "Wha? They must have some advanced sensor equiptment, to warn them of locks..." She spoke to herself. The average Tie Fighter lacked that sort of defensive equiptment. Either that or this guys just that good...

Stickign to the eyeball like glue, Rild followed him through every reckless maneuver. And every time she caught up and got close, he'd corkscrew out of her crosshairs and into the free.

"Bait, watch him on this next pass." She told her droid, then let her crosshairs fall overtop of the fighter. Just as she suspected, the Tie immediatly juked port, then spiraled downward and away. He's not that good at all. Just a green pilot, with advanced equiptment. Its his instinct every time that light flashes he dives down and port...

"Bair, ready a torp." She orderd the droid. "Cut power from the forward sheilds and the cannons and feed it into the engines, I want to catch up with this guy now." Sure enough, her speed increased, and she could make out the external parts of his Fighter. He juked and jinked in a simple random pattern, and she grinned. Letting the crosshairs fall on him for a final time, she immediatly dropped port and thumbed the secondary weapons firing mechanism. A single blue tailed projectile shot forth from her fighter, and the Tie fighter spun right in its path.

The torp sheared off the port Hexagonal solar panel, and nanoseconds later exploded. The now non-manueverable fighter had no choice but to fly straight into the explosion and become a part of an even greater supernova of orange and yellow flame.

"Thats for Aiden." Rild growled through gritted teeth, before turning back towards the fray...
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Post by TalRaimi »

OOC: Anyone want to post anything else before we wrap this little firefight up and move on? And if not, Sidekick do you want to set up an ending?
'Would you do it with me, heal the scars and change the stars?'
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Post by sidekick »

OOC: As to not let the thread die, I'll post the start of an ending...

IC:

Mission over. So they thought.

But, as usual, it turned out something had gone sour. In this case, it was their RV. The Hyrial System was not as 'safe' as Intelligence had reported - evident by the ugly, dirty Frigate sitting five klicks from their exit point.

"Spast!" Lantern Leader exclaimed "Looks like we're in on the bad end of an ambush. I see X-wings, Meteor Leader, they could do with some help.."

"You heard him, Meteors. Break and Attack. Can you take care of that Frigate, Lanterns?"

"We'll do our best. Anyone with any torps, dump them on that Imperial slug. We might not be able to finish her, but we'll give her a reason to leave! Tuck in and let fly, pilots, they're not paying us by the hour."
'Will finish a thread one day…'
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Post by TalRaimi »

OOC: Breathe damn you! Breathe!

IC:

The arrival of the two new Squadrons brought both relief, and worry. Were they saviors, or just more lambs to the slaughter? The thought flashed across Cal’s mind for only an instant, the jagged flash of emerald laser fire cutting across his X-Wing’s nose leaving no time to ponder further.

He dove, then immediately slammed the stick hard over to starboard, shooting underneath the TIE that had attacked him and then kicking full power to his engines, his eyes warily scrolling across his sensor board. Still no shields. Still as vulnerable as a new born Nurf.

“Hey Cal,” Drak called over the comm. “Those T-Wings are heading for the frigate, looks like they mean to drive it off. What say we give them a hand?”

A spark of hope kindled itself within Cal, small and fragile, but there nonetheless. His sensors showed that the TIE that had attacked him had not looped back around, evidently he’d found somebody else to shoot at. “Alright,” Cal grimaced, “But I’m all out of torps, so you’d better hope those T-Wings are carrying.”

“Well,” Drak put in philosophically, “We’ll find out soon enough I guess.”
'Would you do it with me, heal the scars and change the stars?'
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Post by sidekick »

OOC: The Lanterns are Y-wings, sorry if I didn't make that clear...

Expect a post later today..
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Post by TalRaimi »

OOC Blast! I had a fifty fifty chance, and i got it wrong.
'Would you do it with me, heal the scars and change the stars?'
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Post by sidekick »

OOC: Late, but here...

IC:

"Time to break it's back, boys," came Lantern Leader over the comm. 'Breaking it's back' was simple Rebel slang for a complicated procedure. The Neb-B was a very good ship, but with insufficient fighter cover it was vunerable to Y-wings. The procedure involved drawing the Frigates' fire so half a squadron could dump torpedoes onto the ship's weakest point - the spine. "Six, Seven, hit it's communication array - hi to low - that should gain some attention,"

The two battered Y-wings dove down towards the Imperial warship, firing as they went. The ships were not nimble, by any means, and their shields soaked up damage as they poured fire into the arial structure near the front of the ship. Their torpedoes slammed into the array with shocking precision, wiping it from the ship. Immediately, erstwhile gunners began to train their sights on the two retreating bombers.

"They've opened the door, let's not make it a wasted effort. Transmitting targetting data now. All launch on my mark - Two, you and I will launch two seconds after. Ready... one, two, three - Mark!"

The remains of the squadron belched out ten blue streaks, which foned in on the ship's spine like Nat-Moths to a flame. Four followed, fifty metres behind, and flew blindly into the orange-yellow plume of flame their predecessors left, slipping through the Frigate's shields and impacting right in the ship's 'sweet spot'.

"Meteor Leader, our scanners are coming up fuzzy from the explosions, what do you read?"

"I'm reading one.... no, two signals..." he mused, as the awkward shape collapsed in on itself. The two halves of the ship slowly began to float away from each other as lights blinked out and escape pods began to 'pop' out from the dead ship. "Back broken. Good job boys..."
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