Zhar Bacredi, Nimbus 1 / Dantooine SystemZhar Bacredi looked over the statistics of his ships as his droid flew his
Delta-7
Aethisphere up to the
Devonshire. The
Duke-Class (Type 23 model) Bothan Assault Frigate
Devonshire hung in space. The ‘Fleet Air Arm’ began to enter the
Devonshire and the
Somorset. 12 Alpha Three Nimbus starfighters flew close to Bacredi and then sped up, showing off their engines. Four refueling ships of the flotilla: RAF
Lancelot,
Dutyfree, and
Commandeer engaged moved themselves in the middle of the formation.
The RAF, something that Zhar and a few others founded awhile back was what he was going to use this day. While BacCo or Bacredi, Roebuck, and a few others owned all the ships, they were all directly credited to the RAF. The RAF owned all the tanks, crewmen, and supplies as well.
While the Alpha Three Nimbus starfighters engaged themselves in the racks aboard the
Devonshire, Bacredi’s droid landed him in the designated landing pad of the
Devonshire. The hangar gleamed white- two guards stood by the door carrying StA-LARs. While above, in an observation deck, Charles Robinson watched over the process of transferring the pilots and Bacredi to the briefing room and the bridge, respectably.
Bacredi slowly jumped out, his white tucked in shirt and black pants were no attire for someone that would be on the bridge. Captain of the Watch Say came up to Bacredi, wearing his RAF cuffs and uniform. “Sir, the Regal and Allied Flotilla ships are at eighty-three percent battle readiness, Avenger and Steel Squadrons are also ready. The Fleet Air Arm can procure some fighters from the surface if you believe we need them… will we?”
“Hopefully not… has the
Surprise jumped yet?” Bacredi asked Say, Bacredi and Say then began to walk out of the hangar. The pilots of Steel Squadron ran past Bacredi and into the briefing room, their droids trailing behind them. The droids that Bacredi had given them with funds from other accounts were some of the best and worst out there, R5s, R4s, R3s, R2s, and R6s were all that he was able to give them- nothing but the freaking R series of astromechs. The two them then slowly passed four B-2 Super Battle Droids and began to walk towards the lift.
“Yes, sir. Captain Kole will hopefully pick up some useful information,” the two entered a turbolift that was aimed towards the bridge. Say pressed his hand against a pad and the lift moved upward quickly and Bacredi’s insides began to churn. Say then unclipped his radio from his belt and moved it to his lips. “Enter hyperspace.”
“Yes, sir,” was the only response that Captain of the Watch Say received from the bridge. The ship then lurched as it entered hyperspace, the pleasant sound of the engine was heard more widely now.
“Stop.” Bacredi said, pressing the elevator stop button. He then opened the doors and exited towards his quarters. “I’m going to get ready, keep the bridge ready, and keep me updated on Kole’s progress.”
“Yes, sir!” Say responded and then hit the turbolift up to the bridge. Bacredi walked off on the level that his quarters were on. Moving past his own office, Bacredi moved past a conference room and then a guard. He then moved past two more terminals and finally met his quarter’s door face to face. He spoke his password and the door opened for Bacredi.
“Good day, sir.” TC-5K8, a silver C-3 model, said to Bacredi as he entered his quarters. Bacredi threw a half-assed wave and walked over to his closet, he took out a blue tie, a jacket, and then he just took out a totally new suit. Putting all of this on, he attached his cuffs and his VEN and VENA ID and Clearance levels. He then walked out and locked the door, and moved for the turbolift. Entering the turbolift yet again, he hit the level for the bridge, scanned his hand, and then ten seconds later--he was there.
Bridge, RAF Devonshire / In route to Tatoo SystemThe bridge crew was a little bit more lively than usual, they all had a glass of coffee or some other drink (non alcoholic, of course). All the bridge members were looking at their viewscreens, some of them were playing a game of cards, others watching a greenput tournament. The hyperspace warp that was in front of Bacredi made Bacredi turn his eyes away, he then moved over to the captain’s chair. Pressing down on the keypad, Bacredi opened a communications channel with Captain Harper, RAF
Lancelot: “Captain Harper… how long can you all stay hidden?”
“From enemy scouts?” Harper replied, he was the commander of the three small refueling ships that were converted from transport use to fuel holding. He was one of the men that came to Bacredi wanting to pioneer such a craft, and Bacredi had thought that it couldn’t be done.
“Yes, we suspect that have X-Wing or A-Wing scouts.”
“Then if you give us a small fighter escort- as long as you need.” Harper commed back, the sound of his engines was heard from the com. His GR-75 transport had very few weapons, and if two well placed torpedoes hit them the
Lancelot would be grade A screwed.
“Affirmative, I’ll give you a few TIEs.” Bacredi then closed the channel after Harper clicked an affirmative. Turning back to a viewscreen, Bacredi typed in two callsigns and assigned them to Harper’s fuel ships.
“Sir, should we ready the Marine Arm?” Charles Robinson asked Bacredi, the ‘Marine Arm’ as he said it was a small detachment of crewmembers that had weaponry and could blast hell to heaven.
“Yes- arm them with the usual.”
“Yes, sir.” Robinson replied back, he then put his headset on and began to com down to the crew members / marines.
RAF Devonshire / Tatoo System“Sir! Entering Tatoo System!” Captain of the Watch Say screamed to Bacredi.
“Copy, action stations!” Bacredi said back. Say put his earphones on as Robinson flipped up a switch and pressed down on a rather large, red button. The ship alarms sounded and Say began to speak:
“We are entering the Tatoo System. All hands to action stations.” Say’s voice echoed through the entire ship. The
Devonshire dropped out of hyperspace, and the main viewport showed the ships from left to right. The
Somorset let it’s fighters loose, as did the
Devonshire. The
Surprise’s images began to flow into the viewscreens and the weapon technicians began to find targets. “Sir… message from a
Ebon Shyrack.”
“Sir! Multiple contacts heading onto one freighter, ID queen-three-zero-three-seven-delta,
Ebon Shyrack, sir.”
“Play it!” Bacredi ordered.
“This is Baraka Codex, ID: TX-47. This is a distress signal to any and all Vast Imperial Forces, I have been cornered and am in need of immediate rescue! Any forces reply?”
“Sir… freighters locking on…”
“Fire at will.” Bacredi gave them the order, the weapons officer zoomed in on two freighters and their starfighter contacts. The two freighters broke apart, one coming for the flotilla and the other still homing in on the freighter. “Fire the ‘peacemaker’, see how that makes them feel.”
The crewman acknowledged and fired the missile. The missile shook the ship as it exited, it immediately homed in on the target. The target fired countermeasures and the missile disappeared sooner then it had appeared. “Sir… the freighter is coming closer…” Say responded:
“Move the flotilla apart, fire all weapons. Let them move in-between the
Somorset and the
Devonshire!” Say replied, he then moved back to finish the steering. The crewman ‘yes sir’d’ and then began to com the
Somorset. The heavily-armed freighter moved in-between the two Type 23s and began to fire it’s cannons, not scratching the
Devonshire.
“Suck on this…” a weapons officer said as he fired multiple laser blasts. Two more officers fired ion cannons and four starfighters swooped in and attacked the engines.
“Sir, the freighter is getting screwed!”
“Send the
Do You Feel Lucky?.” Bacredi said.
“Yes, sir.” Say then acknowledged the fact that the enemy freighter had been destroyed. Now all he had to worry about was this ‘
Ebon Shyrack’.
“Sir! Fighters are beating the living shit out of this freighter…”
“Send all squadrons to intercept ASAP.”
Lieutenant Jordon, Steel 1-1 / Tatoo System“Steel Squadron check your targets!” Gregory Jordon bellowed through his coms, the TIE Fighters that Steel Squadron had been equipped with were well equipped for such a mission. The TIE Fighters screeched out their targets as they came closer to the frigate known as
Ebon Shyrack. Jordon wondered why he was defending such a vessel even if they were not part of the trade that he thrived off of.
“Two-one here, I’m reading a lot of enemy fighters. Should we go for the bombers or snubfighters?”
“Snubfighters, the bombers are Avenger Squadrons problem.” Jordon replied as he came within 2 kilometers of the fighters. His TIE Fighter swooped down, followed by 1-2 and 1-3, 1-4 lagged behind but was able to keep up. The four fighters buzzed above the enemy frigate and fired multiple times, an unsuspecting fighter that was near the freighter was blasted to bits.
“Nice shot, two!” Steel three sang through his communications device. Jordon turned his fighter around in space, the situation was one freighter and 24 fighters versus 23 fighters and one freighter. Fine odds. Jordon ran his fighter to the limit, the speed made a shiver go up Jordon’s spine. He felt the ‘wind’… even though there is no wind in space… run past him as he fired two more blasts at a harassing enemy fighter. The fighter slowly dove towards the planet below him.
“Give me a sit-rep now Lieutenant!” The imposing voice of Roebuck, Captain of the
Somorset was heard in Jordon’s ear com.
“We could use some more support, but other than that we are doing great!”
“Copy, I’ll send the
Jackal, see if that’ll do you any good.”
“Affirmative, sir. Steel One signing out.”
Bridge, RAF Somorset Inserting Tank Infantry / Tatoo System“Are the tanks ready?” Roebuck queried with his bridge staff.
“Yes, sir. They are currently on the insertion panels…” The ‘insertion panels’ were large, steel panels on the bottom of the
Somorset. When the
Somorset neared the ground, they would open and the Heavy Tracker Tanks would move to the ground along with other drop-ships.
“Thank you, insertion zone status?” Roebuck queried another question with his bridge staff. The
Somorset then took a nose dive straight into the atmosphere of Tatooine.
“A few enemy scouts that are scheduled to be killed by an air-strike once we reach thirty-five thousand feet.” A navigation officer explained to Roebuck. Roebuck thanked him and looked at the
Somorset’s statistics. Forty thousand feet… thirty eight… six… and finally, thirty five. Roebuck held onto his chair as the
Somorset shook and the navigation screens showed bodies flying into the air. “Direct hit!”
“Nice… I see little pieces on the ground.” A weapons officer next to the one that had just said ‘Direct hit’ said, patting the other on the back. Roebuck smiled as the
Somorset reached 250 feet, he then nodded to the control officer and he pushed his palm against a button. The
Somorset then went up a couple feet as the tanks landed on the ground. Missile fire came from all sides at the
Somorset, the
Somorset responded with multiple barrages of Archer Missiles and .85 machine gun turrets. Proton torpedoes soon followed and the Alliance soldiers that had once lived and fought the
Somorset, no longer did.
The
Somorset began to drop more and more supplies, such as tents, water, parachutes of food, weapons, and dropships flew out of the hangars with single troops. The troops of the RAF were not very well trained, and they were almost all under a small pay roll. They all risked their lives though, and Roebuck respected that.
“Sir… camp is set up.” A navigation officer said to Roebuck. Roebuck nodded and turned around to the nearest view-screen. “Camp Guardian, this is a test…”
Command Center Tent, Camp Guardian / Tatooine, Tatoo SystemAn man of forty, Michael Gordon, was the one leading this small camp. He had been paid a small amount by Vast Empire forces to join up with this, and he had an even smaller pay roll here. But one thing he loved about the RAF was the excitement. The way they fought with such stupidity and clumsiness on the ground was made up for in the sky.
He looked over everything that had been set up, tanks had been strategically positioned around the camp. They would take care of any air raids that would come the camp’s way. Ground attacks were to be made up by the small turrets that were placed around the camp. And bombings were to be taken care of by sensors, which would then relay them to the tanks, which would then take care of them with a well-placed heat-seeking missile.
Michael Gordon then turned to the two security lieutenants and gave them their orders. They then began to give the orders to the people ‘under them’ to make small trenches. The trenches were to be surrounded by sandbags and deep enough to place a tank in them. Tanks would be placed in the trenches, along with soldiers. The trenches would keep both the tanks and the people safe from most fire, and would also make full-on enemy attacks harder.
The droids that had been brought down to the surface could easily dig the trenches within an hour. While the base was only about 1 acre and therefore it couldn’t take that long. After that was finished, the tanks and the soldiers of the RAF front would be placed there, and a resting ground for ground-based attack fighters as well. “Sir… new orders from the
Somorset.”
“Thanks.” Gordon said as he retrieved the papers from the soldier. The orders read: ‘We are seeing the hills to your west, a weak spot for your defences. We need you to build fortified emplacements a fourth of a kilometer west, four of them, on the hills that we will soon etch out for you.’ Suddenly, Gordon turned and looked outside the tent. The
Somorset heated up it’s main cannon and fired four times. Gordon smiled at Roebuck’s ‘creativity’ and then gave the orders to the soldiers. They ran off with two heavy trackers full of sand bags, turrets, and men. Four heavy trackers would be placed within four fortified emplacements.
“Sir, weather reports a sand storm is probably en route within the next few days.”
“That’s going to make tracking these suckers a hell of a’ lot harder.” Gordon replied, putting down the paper and looking at the map that was stapled to the wall. Multiple ear piercing beeps were heard throughout Camp Guardian.
“Sir! Enemy tanks to the east!” A deputy of Gordon’s yelled at him, the deputy then put a speaker to his mouth. “Chaos and Fear detachments let the tanks have it!” Fear and Chaos detachments were small detachments of one tank, two men holding rockets, and ten light infantry.
“Let loose mortar fire.” Gordon ordered. He then walked out of the tent, looked to the east and past a few more tents, and saw two enemy tanks, random model, firefighting. The two tanks moved to opposite directions of each other and attempted to split Chaos and Fear up. One well placed rocket rendered one tank useless, and infantry charged the other tank. The other tank, not knowing what to do, randomly fired. The heavy trackers immediately destroyed it. And the other tank was destroyed as well.
- OOC:
- You can finish off the enemy fighters... use my squadrons if you wish... sorry for lage post... I probably screwed somet hings up...
