Senior Chief Petty Officer Zhar Bacredi woke abruptly to the sound of his comlink. The five or six beers that he had had last night kicked in. “Emo babies!” He screamed abruptly as he got up, removing the sheets off him he moved over to his dresser. Quickly sliding on some dress pants and a blue collared shirt, he then slipped on a tie. Finishing he tucked his Naval ID, keycard, and then slipped on his holster.

Moving out of the room, he slid the keycard over the lever. An affirmative beep sounded, the door locking. His shirt tucked in and his weapon holstered, Bacredi headed towards hangar “Theta”. Moving past a few MPs and techs, he came to Hangar Theta within a minute. Moving in the double doors (that were obviously automatic) and past two Military Police, he met up face-to-face with Chief Petty Officer Kane Ahriman.

“What could be so important that you had to disturbed my beauty sleep?” Zhar said sarcastically. He then looked back at Kane, “good morning.”

“Good morning, Zhar.” Kane turned around in his flight suit, “get prepped up. Meet back here in five, get to it.” Zhar shot off a quick salute and turned ninety degrees, running straight towards the lockers. Getting in the doors, he immediately ran towards the locker labeled “9”. Busting into it, he slipped on his flight suit in about a minute. Checking all the gauges, he cleared himself and ran back out to Kane. Kane was there, standing and looking at the TIE Avengers that they had been entitled to. “Board up, 9.”

Nazgul Nine got in the lift that went up to the racks. Moving out of the lift, he gently strolled over to his TIE Avenger. Popping open the hatch, he looked inside to find his computer terminal already in there. Getting in, he fastened his belt and began to cross-check everything.

OOC:

I know this post is TINY, I am sorry. But I do not know were you are going with this, I’ll let you start this off

The middle-aged Senior Chief Petty Officer darted his fighter quickly over the field of battle. Kane and Zhar had just recieved a distress signal from the Medical Frigate Amana, Kane had already commed the rest of Nazgul.

"Nazgul Nine to Nazgul Five, spot targets on sight." Bacredi spoke in his Boklium accent as he darted towards the Amana, small blips on Zhar's radar kept him alert. As he pushed his new fighter behind Kane's, he couldn't help but wonder how the ship would treat him in battle.

"Affirmative Nazgul Nine, targets coming into our range... now. Engage on sight." Kane gave Zhar an order, and he was going to follow it. Bacredi glided over the Amana in one move of his joystick, pulling down he met face-to-face with the engines of a Y-Wing.

"Sluggish bastard." Bacredi laid his fingers on the firing mechanism. The Y-Wing dove in and out of his sights, pushing forward, Bacredi fired, trying to scare the Y-Wing into submission. Pulling out of his maneuver, Bacredi met the Y-Wing again. This time he was ready, he shot out two blasts at the Y-Wing. The shots flew straight past the Y-Wing. "Ah! Buggin' out." Bacredi flew out of his fighter on fighter lock with the Y-Wing. The Y-Wing didn't, though - Bacredi's sensors were beeping like crazy as the Y-Wing and another Y-Wing took formation behind him.

"Nazgul 10 comin' in hot nine." Bacredi checked his radars as his fighter was hit by a blast. Mel came in speedy, firing twice. "Jeezu these new fighters are fine." Mel nailed the Y-Wing right were it hurts - the engine. Pulling back out, Mel moved into formation with Zhar.

"I guess you owed me that one for Yetton, ten." Zhar said sarcastically as he slowed his fighter down a bit. "Nazgul ten and eleven fall in formation three," Goth Sa Suta and Mel both flew in behind Zhar. They both then hit their engines into three gear. The fantasy was short lived, another Y-Wing came in and broke the formation quicker then a man could snap. "Wanker! Ten and eleven on me."

OOC:

Ok, set it up so Mel and Goth could post? Get to it, lackeys .

23 Fighters remaining.

With a Y on his six Goth went into a spiral dive.

*Keying the com; This is Nazgul 11 it's time to see what these things can do.

Just when his rear shield was hit he he leveled out into a breakturn, and felt the straps holding him to his seat as he hit reverse thrust. As he watched the Y flashing by, he then engaging thrusters had the Y in easy range.

After blasting it out of space, he looked around to find the others and try to form up.

*Hitting the com again; Nazgul 11 to Nazgul Squadron, Guys this is to easy, I know we have nice new ships but this doesn't feel right, it's just to easy. Over.

Then the alarms went off signaling a missile lock, checking sensors Goth was dismayed to see the missile coming from under the ship and began taking evasive maneuvers. "So much for easy".

*This is Nazgul 11, got a missile on my six, taking evasive. A little help would be nice, over.

"Great.. I'm waaay out of practice.."

Aleia muttered as she  felt like a rookie all over again. Her months of being away on a personal absence had caught up to her and were kicking her in the rear as she  came back to find a new "toy" to play with. She hadn't said anything to the other pilots as they  ahd already  suited up and were the first out.

Im gonna  get chewed or  welcomed back.. mabey both..

She mused as she joined the fray. Only to have a rebel tail her right off. Apparently he must have thought she would be shaky. someone joining late woudl be seemed as either weak or didn't know what she was doing.

"Not a chance.."


Pulling on the throttle she  shakly zipped tot he right and avoided the  pilot as he flew by her. Fixing her trajectory she  came up behind him and cursed at not beign able to  be on the top of her game after months of absence.

" I knew. it. I come back and find myself strapped in and ina  batter with a  ship Im not familiar with!"

She rolled back up and under the rebel and  tried to find the fireing  switch and it wasn't in a place she was use to as  nothign happened. More curses she  had to  spin herself to the side as the pilot  did a flip  barrell roll and  tried to  push her into  one of the  team mates  fighters.

"Uh..  A littl ehlep here guys! "


HSe keyed over her com.

Goth was worrying so much about the Nazgul in trouble he almost flew right into the blast of the exploding X-wing.
Pulling up hard and going into a Vertical Reverse, Goth groaned as the G-forces crushed him into the seat and took his breath away, and felt his fighter shake as it caught part of the blast.

'Frag, Goth thought to himself,'there's enough people out here wanting to kill me without me trying to do it to myself with stupidity.'

As the G-forces eased he checked his shields, which were already down to 80 percent after the hit on the rear deflector from the first fighter. Now they were down to 60.
He cut his thrust to 75 percent as he went into the dive, and started looking for the squadron member who had called for help.
Then he spotted two Y-wings dead ahead and coming straight for him.

'That's not good.'

Goth thought about making a break for it, but he was never one to run from a fight. So he kicked his fighter into full thrust, then reached over and unlinked his cannons. Then he checked to make sure his missiles were not set on dumb fire.

'Time for a little chicken.'

He opened fire with his lasers, and started scissoring to avoid theirs. He felt his ship shake as it took a cannon blast, then got a missile lock. With lightening fast reaction he let a proton torpedo fly. Then banked right and went into a Barrelroll to dodge the Y-wings fire. As he came out he stomped down on the right pedal for all he was worth to cut down his turning radius as he went into a Break Turn.

'These new ships can sure pull some Gs' Goth thought to himself as the straps dug into him and held him from flying to the right out of his seat.

When he came around he noticed that his torpedo had take out one, and the other was coming around to come back.
Goth was somewhat surprised, figuring that he would break and run. Then realized the pilot was probably angry about losing his wing man and wanted revenge.

'His mistake.'

The Y-wing was only about half way through it's turn so Goth maneuvered to get in behind him.

Switching on his com he said,This is Nazgul 11, another Wishbone down.' Then switched it off.

Checking his shield level he found it a 50 percent. That was a nice surprise, he figured they were almost gone.
Using the better handling of his ship, Goth was on the Y-wings tail by the time it came out of its turn. But he was high to the left and well out of his weapons envelope. The Y-wing pilot knew he was there and went into a Barrelroll. Goth followed suit.
Goth did a couple of High Speed Yo-Yos and got below the Y-wing, but it was still well out of range.
The Y went into a Split-S and Goth followed cutting into the bandit's ark he started closing.
The Y-wing went into a Break Turn and Goth stayed on him, using his superior maneuverability he was almost in weapons range.
Not wanting to overshot the target Goth cut thrust a bit, because he was closing fast.

'Almost there.' 

Then laser blasts started flying by from behind.

'Frag, he must have called in support.'

Breaking pursuit Goth went into a Barrelroll, checking sensors he saw he had a X-wing on his six.

OOC:

18 Rebels left

Aboard the Medical Frigate Amana’s bridge, the entire officer crew was sweating bullets as Y-Wings, X-Wings, and B-Wings flew circles around them. The Commander of the Amana, Commander Day shot orders to the crew as the ship rigorously shook from more enemy blasts.

“Captain of the Watch turn port twenty degrees.” Commander Day ordered the Captain of the Watch.

“Aye, aye, sir.” The Captain of the Watch exclaimed, moving over to his terminal. The Captain of the Watch began to bark orders to the men under his command.

“Nazgul One this is the bridge, we have two bogies flying over topside. Engage when you feel the need.” The weapons officer said sarcastically, sitting in his chair and greasing his hair back at the same time. Commander Day looked at the radar, circular line after circular line showed the bridge the entire fight, the battle.

The modified Corellian Corvette, the Amana had barely any armament, only four Turbolaser batteries. This is why a fighter escort had accompanied the ship all the way past the Epsilon System, after that, they bugged out thinking that the Amana would be safe. Suddenly the radar beeped loudly, a thin line appeared four-hundred feet off of the Amana. The weapons officer began to stutter:

“Queen-three zero, torpedo, torpedo.” The weapons officer screamed, at the same time, the navigation officer was giving the Captain of the Watch orders.

“Captain of the Watch turn hard right forty degrees.” The navigation officer looked up to find the Captain of the Watch over his terminal, typing in the orders. The commander then spoke into the ship com.

“All hands brace, torpedo incoming.” Commander Day announced to the ship, he then flipped off the ship communications array and moved to the squadron array “Nazgul squadron we have a missile bearing ten seconds until impact... engage.”

-- -- -- -- --
As Zhar Bacredi, Nazgul Nine moved hastily across the battlefield, dodging laser blasts as he did so, suddenly the Commander spoke. “Nazgul squadron, we have a missile bearing ten seconds until impact... engage.” Bacredi looked into his screen. Nazgul 9, Nazgul 10, Nazgul 11, and the shallow Nazgul 12 all turned a hard right towards the missile. The ships were making 110 mgt, they would be on the missile within four seconds, the missile would hit in seven. All the ships flew towards the missile, buzzing past the missile, Nazgul 9 turned hard right. Nazgul 10 and 11 dodged as well. Nazgul 12 was nailed, straight into the right wing.

“Mayday, mayday, we got a man down. Requesting evacuation support from the Atrus.” Gshlecc screamed into his com as Nazgul 12 dissapeared. The sound of an exhail came from the bridge’s com.

“Thanks for the assist, Nazgul Squadron. Captain of the Watch increase engine speed-” The com cut out suddenly, the commander had ended the com. Nazgul 12 was dead, as Bacredi flew back over the battlefield. Sluggish Y-Wings flew straight past them. Laser blasts from all of Nazgul Squadron increased dramatically, they were going to avenge their lost pilot.

They were going to kill every last new republic pilot in a hundred systems.

Blaster fire pinged off Kane’s fighter as he threaded his ship through the growing field of debris left by the various rebel ships that met their end. Constant checking of his sensor array showed a steady stream of reinforcements arriving ready to tear the Rebels a new one.

Kane was gaining confidence in the new craft, already having pushed it past the limits of the old TIE he had survived in until now. As he gripped the yoke and pulled it out of the latest spiral dive to avoid two Rebels trying to sandwich him, Kane had to choose which of the poor pilots he’d have to kill first.

Swinging his craft around and pushing the throttle hard, the Avenger zipped back to the point where the two Rebel pilots should have passed each other. Banking sharply in the direction one of them went, he pulled behind the X-Wing and dialed in his cannons.

The Rebel, intelligent enough to know he now had a tail, began to rock his ship back and forth, swinging his craft like a pendulum in his attempt to avoid a missile lock. Kane was far too close to use the missiles, but most of the Rebels hadn’t yet realized what they were up against.

A few test shots were fired at the backside of the X-Wing, the shots damaging but not causing enough problems to count this fighter out. Kane began to match the swinging motions, as he had done once before in a battle that seemed like years ago, using the same banking maneuver as the Rebel but keeping the swings more shallow. This allowed Kane more time that the Rebel would pass in front of the craft.

He thumbed the trigger on the yoke, sending another dozen blasts at the Rebel. Glancing blows were all he was able to score. Growling through grinding teeth, Kane eased off the throttle and began to fall back. If blaster fire wasn’t going to work that well, it seemed he’d have to go by the old standard and blast the scum from space with a trusted missile.

Kane glanced down to his control panel, bringing up the guidance system for his missiles. He kept glancing up, trying to keep the Rebel in a sweet spot, not too far ahead to lose guidance, but not close enough that the detonation of the missile would rattle the Avenger either.

The missile system was brought online quickly, the rapid response another new feature to the upgraded fighters. He moved his hands over the yoke, feeling the buttons for the missile launch. The X-Wing in front of him was as good as toast, and both pilots knew it. However, the Rebel was going to get a break nobody anticipated.

Just as Kane was preparing to fire the missile, the X-Wing dipped suddenly. Kane was quick to react, but not quick enough. The Avenger began to roll, trying to avoid the collision, but it was nearly too late. A large chunk of debris from a ship, either Imperial or Rebel, slammed into the underside of the Avenger and sent Kane spinning.

Gripping the yoke tightly and working the throttle as he fought to keep the craft under control, Kane knew he was a sitting duck. His shields were vastly depleted by the impact, and through the nausea-inducing spin Kane could make out a few hostile ships approaching him on his array.

Kane’s body was thrashed back and forth under the harness of the pilot’s seat, and the flight bag that he carried had been dislodged from it’s place behind his seat. After what seemed like an eternity, Kane began to right his craft, but not before the Rebels lined him up in their sights.

Bright flashes of Rebel blaster fire lit up the cockpit in the Avenger, casting an eerie glow on things whenever a blast found it’s mark. A warning alarm sounded as the shields fell to critical levels, and soon the missile warning system was sounding.

Still in a partial spin from the impact, and about to have a very bad day, Kane slid one hand down to the eject handle between his feet. His fingers closed around the handle and he was prepared to eject and pray that death would come quick when he remembered this wasn’t a TIE, and he wasn’t as dead in the water as he seemed.

Slamming the throttle down as hard as he could, Kane returned both hands to the yoke. Instead of fighting the spin he was in, he aided the momentum with additional thrust of his own, turning an out of control barrel roll into an out of control spiral dive as he pushed the yoke forward.

He slipped his hand over the toggle switch in the middle, giving it a flip as he deployed his chaff and flares to disorient the missile that was more than likely incoming. A concussive blast shook the fighter, and he smirked as he knew that the missile couldn’t have been more than a few hundred meters behind him.

He kept up the breakneck dive, noticing that the distance between himself and the Rebels began to grow. Kane’s helmet began to ring out with calls from his squad mates, calls to see if the pilot was still breathing, or if unconsciousness was causing the erratic flight pattern.

Kane radioed back to the other Nazguls that indeed he was still alive, however his shields were nearly crippled and he had company on his six. He let them know the best course of action right now would be to rush in and take out the Rebels before they called off the pursuit all together, and let Kane continue to be used as the bait.

Hopefully there was someone out there who could pick off a few unsuspecting Rebel pilots without sacrificing a friendly to do so. Kane pulled out of the spiral and waited a few moments for his head to follow suit and his vision to clear before trying to figure out which direction was up and head back to the squadron.

OOC:

Still 17 remaining Rebels.

After avoiding another volley of laser cannons from Y-Wings, Skrat raced off before the Y killed him with a missile of some sorts. After retreating the Y, he saw the X-Wing from earlier approaching him in an attack postition. If he wanted a fight that bad, then he would give him one....

Before moving to engage the bandit, he plotted his attack actions. Feeling satisfied with his quick plan, he turned towards the wing and prepared to lock-on to the bandit. The X saw him coming and began firing upon him. Trying to dodge the lasers, he made a barrel roll to the left, taking a few lasers to his right wing. Skrat fired upon the bandit, acheiving no hits. Skrat began into a downward, seeing if the X would take the bait.

Like a fish to a worm, the X began following his move and started firing upon him. Once the fighter's energy to the laser cannon needed "reloading", Skrat took advantage of the oppurtunity. Skrat put the Avenger in reverse and turned it so it was facing the X-wing. He then fired a wild concussion missile at the wing. The bandit rolled to the right and dodged the missile, as he had planned. While it was still recovering, he began firing at the X, quickly turning it to shreds.

"This would be more intresting for the rebels if they weren't just wasting their men." Skrat said on open com. Skrat proceeded towards goth to see if he would need some help, with his fighter damaged and all....

As he got near to goth, he commed to him, "You still in fighting shape there 11?"

"Yeah, i'm fine. Just kicked the control panel and got everything working." Joked Goth, which made Skrat laugh.

"Well, contact me if you're in trouble 11." Skrat said on his com before leaving to kill another rebel.

OOC:

15 left to murder

The streaks of starlight slowed to small pinpoints through the transparisteel screen as the Wraith slipped out of hyperspace, and almost immediately his comm lit up with chatter from both the beleaguered mFRG and the attacking Rebels, his sensor screen flashing with contacts.  The dark man let out a slow chuckle, a wry grin coming to his lips.  "I suppose that Bothan was telling the truth.  Perhaps it was good that I let him keep his fur."

A volley of torpedoes from the attacking wing of B-Wings suddenly streaked across space, two exploding into harmless shards from the point defense guns of the frigate, but the rest impacting on its shields, making them flicker for a moment under the strain, the generators just barely managing to keep the shields up from collapsing entirely. 

"Nazgul 1, this is the Wraith I.  Looks like you could use a bit of help, mind if I join in?  I'd hate to crash your party uninvited..."  A few quick keystrokes brought up the proper authorization codes, another sent them transmitting to G’shlecc's ship, confirming his status as a friendly, allowing the Master Chief to see his full credentials. 

G'shlecc blinked as the information popped up on his screen, stunned for just a moment, having to swerve suddenly to avoid a bit of debris that he nearly didn't notice.  "What in the Seven Hells of the Sith is Macloid doing here?"  He cast his mind back for a moment, trying to recall any information that he had about the man....but came up nearly blank.  A few rumors when he had been a cadet in the training squadron, a dark, brooding man who had been the former Training Commander, had vanished without a trace years ago, only to resurface for a battle, and then disappear anew.  Official reports have him listed as dead, unofficially he haunted the training station during its night cycle, or so an inebriated recruit had confided in him just before washing out.  He thought for a second more, and then his screen flashed, indicating that a rebel fighter jockey was trying to get a lock on his craft.  Pulling into a tight dive, corkscrewing through the floating debris and sporadic laser fire, he banked sharply, unexpectedly to the right, looping up and catching the X-Wing unprepared.  He sprayed off a quick burst of green laser fire, but the X-Wing's shields absorbed it, holding firm, and the game was on.  He keyed his comm quickly, not willing to spare any more focus then he had to

"Permission granted. Welcome to the fun Commander."

With official permission granted, JMac flipped the switch on his transponder, turning it on and broadcasting his ship's position to the nearby nav buoy.  While all ships were technically required to constantly broadcast their transponder codes, modifying them so that they could be turned off was only illegal in New Republic space, Imperial space, Corporate Sector space, Hutt space, Corporate Sector space, the Hapan consortium, and a dozen or so other sectors.  Kicking his sublight drive up to cruising speed, the Wraith quickly began eating up the distance between it and the battle, and not a second too soon as he heard Nazgul 11's  cry for help crackle over the comm.  Jovak cut his engines sharply, dropping to attack speed, needing all the help maneuvering his ship.  While compared to other ships its size the Wraith was obscenely maneuverable, no transport could outmaneuver a fighter...at least not without using some very dirty tricks.

"Hang in there 11, I'll be there in just a...break left! Break left!"  The fighter behind Goth managed to get a good lock, sending out a pair of missiles.  Goth banked hard, but the missiles dogged on him, forcing him to deploy his countermeasures, the missiles just barely missing him, nearly clipping his right solar panel, the ensuing explosion rocking the small fighter.  JMac swore as a second pair of missiles fired out of the fighter, knowing that the burst of static from the explosion would have shorted out the TIE Advanced's sensors for a moment, and there was no way for his ship to target something that small...not with the TIE in the line of fire...  Goth was toast...unless. 

"11, this is LT Commander Jovak Macloid, I need you to trust me.  I've got your wing, I need you to trust me.  On my mark, I need you to cut shields divert all power to your engines.......MARK."  Praying that Nazgul 11 would do as he asked, JMac activated the small tractor beam installed in the belly of the Wraith, a small cargo aid that had never been designed to handle anything half as big as a fighter, hearing a high-pitched whine as the system overloaded, the smell of ozone filling the air...but it worked.  As Goth hit his engines to full, the tractor beam managed to divert his course, sending it skimming in a tight loop just as the missiles exploded where he would have been...and leaving him lined up for a run at the attacking X-Wing.

The problem with fighter pilots, JMac thought to himself, grinning to himself as Nazgul 4 derided the Wraith out of hand, is that they are such simple creatures.  His ship beeped, indicating a fighter was trying to get a lock on him, a quick glance confirming that another X-Wing was lining up for a shot.  He sent the Wraith into a lazy corkscrew downward, hitting his comm for a private channel to Goth.  "11, Goth....want to see a magic trick?  Send your fighter into a slow loop to the right, it'll line you up with a perfect shot."

Fighter pilots were always so certain that bigger weapons, better shields, faster engines were all that counted.  Even the best of them could barely break a three dimensional mindset, most could scarcely think in two.  It was always a gigantic contest, whip 'em out and see who's is bigger.  Shinier ships were considered better ships..it never failed.  Red fire rained down towards the Wraith, one or two managing to impact on its shields, but most spraying harmlessly away.  The pilot was having trouble lining up his shot, the corkscrewing and debris field from the battle making it hard to manage a straight assault.  Macloid reached down and hit a toggle, making his shields start fluctuating, slowly letting them drain whenever the rebel got close to hitting. 

Starting up an open comm channel, and injecting just a bit of panic into his voice, the dark man shouted "This is Nazgul 12, I got an enemy on my tail and i'm losing my shields. Assistance Required!".  Another toggle sent a burst of static out over the comm, and then he again shot off, leveling out his downward spiral, sounding downright panicked, though injecting an authoritative arrogance to his plea.  "I repeat, this is Nazgul 12, stang!  This is Leutenant Commander Jovak Macloid.  I order anyone that can hear this to assist me...I am in trouble, my ship can't take much more of this."

Opening a private channel to his wingman once more, in a much calmer voice, Macloid continued.  "Magic is easy, all you need is the right mind set.  If you get people looking at your right hand, thinking that is the important hand, you could be dealing cards with your left, shooting spice, hell, you could draw a gun on them, and they would never see it coming.  It is all about misdirection."

Cutting speed, JMac sent his ship into a slow tumble as another blast splashed off his shields, killing them for just a moment, a quick press of a button sending a cloud of debris out into the air... along with a small mine.  As the X-Wing closed for the kill, Jovak detonated the mine, scrambling his sensors for an instant, letting the impact send it off course....and leaving it wide open for Goth, giving him a clear line of fire.  Goth took advantage of it, sending green fire racing across the older fighter's shields, then impacting its reinforced hull, burning a hole into its engine compartments as they detonated, leaving nothing but an expanding cloud of trash where a ship once was.

The thing that almost all fighter pilots missed was quite simple.  It wasn't how big it was that counted....it was the way you made they scream when you surprise them that truly mattered.

OOC:

13 left

As Skrat saw Goth kill the X-Wing, he gave out a laugh. Perhaps theres more to that ship than i had thought.

"Hey Wraith, looks like your ship is a good ol' Imperial  version of the Millenium Falcon." joked Skrat. "Don't need to be a genius to take out a rebel, just need the right tactics and equipment." replied Wraith. "Umm... Sure," Skrat said in a bit of confusion, "lets go with that."

He got off the comlink as he saw laser cannon fire past his hull, barely missing. He remembered the troublesome B-Wing was trying to eliminate him. Seeing the B-Wing had a fast acceleration on the Avenger, he knew he would have to take him out soon.

Trying to distract the pilot, Skrat released a flare to blind the pilot for a quick second, with no success. With the B-Wing's autocannons keeping a constant and rapid firing on the Avenger, he did a quick barrel roll to move out from in front of the B. Skrat made a large turn to the right, then made another turn to the left, trying to make sure he didn't get an enemy lock-on. "This is Nazgul 12, I got a bandit on my tail and I can't shake'em."

After he said that, Goth came in to attack the B-Wing. He fired his lasers on the B, bringing it's side deflector down to an estimated 45%. The B instantly went after Goth, forgetting all about Skrat. Big mistake on his part, for when he turned, Skrat turned towards it and fired on it, fired til' it's deflectors were down, and fired til' it was destroyed. He started laughing again. "Thanks for another assist Goth. Remind me when we get back to civilization to get you a few Corellian Ale, on me." He joked again. "My pleasure Nazgul 1-4. And I won't forget that."

When Goth kicked his life support back on his shields started to fluctuate. Since his scanners were clear he started experimenting with them and found if he cut back the power to them to sixty-seven percent they stabilized. Checking to be sure, he cut power to life support and could power them back up to one hundred percent instantly.
Leaving them at sixty-seven percent, he keyed his com:

'This is Nazgul 11, my turn to be the bait, Wraith I see about making yourself scarce, but please don't go to for away. Nazgul Squadron come and get'em.'

Then he killed power to his working thruster and taking a page from his new wingman's book of tricks, switched his com to an uncoded channel:

'This is Nazgul 11, need cover and pickup, my ship is dead in space.'

Sitting at a dead stop Goth watched his scanners closely and waited for the enemy fighters to converge on his position. Ready to throw maximum power to his working thruster at a moments notice.
Just to be safe he also cut power to his ship's life support and brought his shields back up to one hundred percent.
After waiting a while Goth decided they must be wise to the trap, so he decided to sweeten the pot.
Keying in Nazgul's com channel:

'Nazgul 11 here, the traps not working, I'm going to up the Anni.

He tested his starboard engine, slowly powering up the thrust. At twenty percent it was functioning normally. When he had it up to forty percent he started getting warning lights of over heating, but it was only slowly rising to critical. At forty-five percent the rise was measurably faster and smoke was starting to fill the cockpit.
After killing the thruster, he turned life support back on and powered down his shields to sixty-seven percent, the smoke in the cockpit cleared quickly.
Looking out the rear view port he could see he had left a trail of smoke in his wake.
Now to see if his plan would work. He powered up his shields to one hundred percent and his starboard thruster to forty-five. Then he keyed the Nazgul com channel:

'If you see a little smoke don't worry, I'm OK. Just be ready to spring on them when they come.'

Switching over to the uncoded channel:

This is Nazgul 11, I've got minimal engines now, and having trouble with my shields, request support. Frag! I'm on the wrong channel'.

The life support system was clearing the smoke from the damaged engine, but the cockpit was still a little hazy. Visually checking out of the rear view port he could see he was leaving a beautiful smoke trail.
Goth said to himself:

'If this doesn't bring them nothing will.'

Goth kept a close watch on his quickly overheating engine and an even closer watch on his scanners.
Goth stood ready to switch off life support, kill power to his overheating engine and boost full thrust to his port engine at a moments notice.
Keying his com to the encoded Nazgul channel:

'I hope you guys are ready."

Then he keyed it off, knowing that if he didn't draw some rebels soon, he would have to cut power to his crippled engine, because it was reaching critical fast.

Goth waited until his engine was seconds from going critical then realized, no one was going to take the bait, so he shut it down. Then put full thrust to his good engine.
By this time his cockpit was so full of smoke that he could barely see his instruments, much less out the forward view port. Luckily the warning lights along the walls were cutting through it enough for him to keep track of the engine situation.
Just as he boosted thrust full to his good engine and felt the G-forces crush him back into the seat, the missile alarm went off. Luckily it was dumb fired by a pilot who thought he was shooting at a sitting duck. So it passed behind Goth's Avenger. A few seconds sooner and it would have been a direct hit.
Goth pulled into a Break Turn to starboard with a Y-wing coming in from seven o'clock.
At this point Goth was flying by feel more than anything else. Being that he was having trouble seeing his instruments because of the smoke. But with a rebel closing quickly in pursuit he couldn't chance turning the life support system back on, and losing power to his shields.
With the bandit now on his six and closing fast Goth banked into a port side Break Turn, but the Y-wing followed in lag pursuit and was still closing fast.
Goth then went into another starboard Break Turn, but this time he bled off most of his speed by turning port, going into a Barrel Roll just as the Y-wing opened fire with its ion cannon. That did it, the Y-wing pilot was coming in so fast that the fighter blew right passed. Goth got off some shots with his linked lasers, hitting the enemy ship's shields.
The Y-wing pilot realizing he just made what could be a fatal error started to scissor. He scissored three times and by cutting into his turns Goth was staying on his tail, and continued to lay down laser fire on his foe. Hitting his shields a few more times.
The Y-wing went into the Immelman and started pulling away. Just as it was about to pull out of the weapon's envelope Goth got missile lock and fired his last concussion missile.
Pulling into a Rollaway Goth easily dodged the insueing explosion, and was glad to see the Y disappear from his scanners, destroyed.
Taking a chance he switched on the life support powering down his shields until they were steady, to clear some of the smoke obscuring his view. He always preferred visual conformation to trusting mechanical equipment. Not to mention the fact that the smoke was making seeing the read outs some what difficult also.
As the smoke cleared from the cockpit, Goth took a moment to reflect on the fact that his instrument flying was getting better all the time. Then the moment was over, as the scanners picked up an incoming Wishbone. But before Goth could take evasive maneuvers it broke pursuit as Nazgul 2-4 jumped its his six, lasers blazing. Goth Turned in pursuit of then both to try and cover him but with only one working engine they pulled away.

OOC:

9 rebel ships remain

G watched as Slash splashed another Reb.  The kid had talent, and guts.  Those commodities will either get you killed or promoted, sometimes both.  The task at hand had been going on for far longer than G had wanted, or anticipated.  Enough was enough time to end this before someone got killed; he needed these pilots for what was to come.  He normally didn’t like thinking ahead, but Den had dropped some knowledge on him prior to this dust-up.  Knowledge that didn’t make him all warm and fuzzy. 

  “Good work Slash, now  here this Nazgul, rendezvous at the co-ordinates I’m sending you, ASAP.”

  He thumbed the numbers into the comm and sent them out.  He waited for the first voice he knew he’d hear.

  “Boss, what the frak is this?” queried Kane.

  “I can always count on you to do what I expect, Kane.  Just punch it up and go.  That goes for all of you.”

  He watched as the TIE/ad’s blinked out of existence and found hyperspace.  These new toys had not been tested to their fullest Nazgul potential yet.  That would be remedied now. 

  Driver’s TIE dropped out of its short jump several seconds from the point of battle.  The rest of the squadron was already there.  He pulled his craft to a stop in the middle of a three-tiered circle and proceeded with his impromptu war council.

  “Alright gentlemen, this party’s over.  I’m tired of toying with these bastards.  Time to start some serious killing.  There are eight Republic fighters left.  Two per flight, I’ll take three.  This is going to be a pack kill from here out.  I want NO individual engagements. I want group kills and I want this over NOW. Am I understood?”

  ‘Crystal’ chorused over the comms. 

  “Good, Kane you take 2 and take the first two Rebs you see.  Herd’ em out of the way.  Blue, you take 3 and get the next two.  I’ll take what’s left.  Fly’ em into boxes and kill’em.  No more fancy crap. No more worrying about who gets the kill. From here out I’m not keeping track.  All I know is in one hour I want to be back aboard the Atrus in my bunk.  Any questions?”

  Nothing but static was the reply.

  “Good, now punch back in to these co-ordinates.  Happy hunting.”

  The TIE heeled about and formed up with the rest of Flight One.  G and Aleia, Ambrosia and Catachan.  The double pair formed a diamond and ripped into hyperspace.  Moments later they re-emerged, triangulated with the rest of Nazgul, the Amana in the center.  The remaining Republic forces were, to say the least, surprised.  They hardly expected the TIE’s to be hyper drive equipped, they certainly didn’t expect them to bug out when they were winning, and they sure as Sith didn’t expect them to come back.


  Blue and Kane’s groups peeled off their assigned Rebs and began the hunt.  G dove his flight into the midst of the lingering X’s.  They went in guns blazing.  The X’s juked and split, trying to run for cover. 

  “Don’t let them go, I want trophies!”

  The foursome stayed locked on the fist X and worked a near textbook weave. The faint afterglow of Rebel particles was their first trophy.  The second X had attempted to disable the MedShip’s life support.  He was too preoccupied to see his own death.  Luckily for Flight One they had video.  The last Reb on their hit parade decided that it was better to run away and live to run another day.  Unfortunately for him, Driver anticipated this and had Cat and Bros jump ahead and cut him off just when he thought he was home free. 

  As the last of the debris that had been Flight One’s quarry cooled in the vacuum of space, Driver turned toward the remaining craft.  He pulled the kids around to assist either Blue or Kane only to be greeted by the Flights flying lazily around the limping MedShip. 

  Blue commed in, “What took you so long?”

  “Funny Blue, that bought you a week of cleaning my fighter.”

  “Wha…” Blue started to protest, but was cut off by G. 

  “Alright, I want everyone back on the Atrus, ASAP.  Meet in Debrief 7.”

  The jump back didn’t take long, but it seemed that way.  There was some brief chatter over the comms, but Driver nixed it immediately.  He was not in a good mood, and they knew it.

  Nazgul touched down onboard the Atrus like clockwork.  They disembarked and gathered in the aforementioned debriefing room.  Driver and Kane strode in soon afterward. 

  Blue jumped up and barked, “Aten-hut, officer on deck.”
 
  The assembled pilots shot up and snapped to attention as their CO and XO made their way to the front of the room.  Driver’s visage denoted anything but sunshine and flowers.

  “Sloppy. Very sloppy.”

  G looked around the room. The few smiling faces there were disintegrated into confusion and conflict.  Several of the veterans almost made comments…almost.

  “This was NOT a Nazgul engagement.  We were too enamored with our new toys and too worried about who got the kill.  We were not focused on driving the foe away from the MedShip or giving that transport the best opportunity to escape.  We were vain and prima donna-like.  I am not happy.”

  The last sentence didn’t have to be said, but it was.  Every single Nazzie in the room, and a few retired and dead, understood Driver’s mood from his tone and body language. 

  “This will be the first and last time I ever say this…I was embarrassed to be your CO.  Every single one of you sitting here today is better than what you showed me.  I am half tempted to call Captain Denethor and have him give the Advanced’s to Viper or Kaph, cuz after this display, I wonder if we deserve them.  I am not merely saying that all of you let me down, I ‘m also saying I let YOU down.  A good CO corrals his pilots when they go off the reservation.  I didn’t do that fast enough.  I promise you it will not happen again.

Driver paused to catch his breath, and let the whupping sink in a little more.

  “To that end we will all meet back here at 0800 tomorrow morning to break down this tussle, and start logging serious sim time, and trials on our new toys.  If you got your first kills today enjoy them privately.  There will be NO public celebrations.  Dismissed.  Blue, Kane and Slasher, stay.

  The dejected pilots filed out of the room leaving Driver with the three pilots.

  “Not good gentlemen, not good.  We’ll be working on this for a bit, well, some of us will.  Blue”

  Bacredi stiffened as G said his name, “Yes sir.”

  “It seems that you are a wanted man.”

  Confused Blue stared at his SC, “Sir?”

  Driver smiled a wry smile, “All those training hours you’ve logged with the noobs, and the extra help you’ve been giving them seems to have caught someone’s eye.”

  Still confused Blue asked, “How so sir?”

  “Well it seems that there has been a little fallout at the Academy, and YOU sir are the new Naval Training Officer.”

  “Excuse me, “choked Blue

  “Yep, I got the orders detaching you from Nazgul when we got back aboard the Atrus.  Effective immediately, congratulations.”  Driver stated as he moved to shake Blue’s hand.

  Bacredi pumped the older man’s hand in a daze, “But wait, I’m only a Master Chief, how do rate being NTO?”

  “Well, that’s part two, “Driver grinned, “You’ve been promoted to Ensign.  Congratulations again…Sir”

  “You have got to be shitting me.” Croaked Kane.

  “Shitting me, Sir, “corrected Driver as he snapped a salute to an even more-confuddled-than-ususal looking Bacredi.

  Kane snorted a laugh as he threw up what could only be described loosely as a salute.

  “Congrats, sir, “quipped Slasher as he too saluted the newly minted officer.

  Blue smiled meekly, returned the salute, and merely said, “Wow” as he sank into a nearby chair.

  Driver then turned to the still smiling Slasher, “Oh don’t look so pleased for him, you’re not off the hook.”

  “Excuse me sir?”

  “I’m down a flight leader, and you’re it.”

  Slasher stared at G for a moment before his words hit home, and then the smile faded.

  “But I just got here, surely there are…”

  “I chose you. You have skills and are a quick study. You have leadership abilities and can learn as you go.  And don’t call me Shirley.”

  Kane audibly winced at G’s pun; Blue just looked at him, and shook his head.

  “OK, gents, let’s call it a day. Kane you and Slasher turn in, the no celebration order still applies to you.  Mr. Bacredi, I can’t give you any more orders, so you’re free to do as you wish.  I’m done and will see you two in the morning.  It’s gonna be a looong day.”

  Slash and Kane shook Blue’s hand as they departed.  G started to walk out when Blue called after him.

  “G, will Nazgul be allowed to have some R and R tomorrow?”

  “Well, if they survive the day, yes.”

  “Good, because I think my first order as Ensign will be to have you assemble Nazgul in the Clubhouse at 2100 hours tomorrow for a drink to celebrate.”
 
  Driver smiled, clapped Blue on the shoulder, “Aye aye, sir.  Aye aye.”

OOC:

That is that. New mission ideas are being taken by Slasher in Nazgul topic. 1572 words, not bad for an old guy.