In perfect line formation, Besh Flight launched their attack on the Y-Wing squadron. Diving from above, they readied themselves, thumbs pulsing on trigger buttons...

GreatWolf immediately fired off a burst at one of the Y’s, forcing the craft into evasive manoeuvres to avoid taking serious damage. The suddenness of Aurora’s attack forced the squadron too scatter from its carefully planned approach vector. Realising that their charges were in danger, the X-Wings, which had been flanking the Y-wing squadron on both sides, quickly made break turns to engage the new threat that had suddenly appeared. GreatWolf saw Aurek flight pounce on the X squadron with ruthless efficiency.

Taking off after a Y-wing that had diverted away from its target, a sharp break turn got GreatWolf on his vector. Gunning down on the trigger, he was rewarded by seeing his target dissolve into fire.
However, his TIE immediately shook, as stray fire from a nearby X-wing scraped his Interceptor. Checking his shields were holding, GreatWolf rolled to avoid any pursuit,

Unfortunately, at that moment, his weapons malfunctioned again.
He pressed the trigger repeatedly,
Calm down, he told himself, fighting down the feeling of growing frustration.
His anger was compounded, as two X-wings, who had broken the tail of one of his pursuing squadron mates, turned their flight onto GreatWolf. He swore viciously, as alarms blared throughout his ship, he cut tightly into a turn, trying to shake the missile. Reefing hard on the control yoke, sending his TIE into a spinning descent further towards the planet’s surface, he was rewarded by seeing the missile harmlessly fade away into the air.


But his foes were not done yet, GreatWolf’s fighter shuddered as a new barrage of blasterfire knocked out his shields, he fought the control yoke, desperately rolling his fighter to avoid the prospect of a missile lock.


Then, one of his pursuers was sent spinning away in a fireball.

“I got your back GreatWolf,” came the smug voice of Trevor Evenson.
Swearing silently, GreatWolf gritted his teeth, forcing politeness through his voice.

“Thanks Besh Lead, I owe you one,”
He then forced himself to tune out of listening to the reply, as his second pursuer remained doggedly on his tail. GreatWolf pulled back on his control yoke, rapidly gaining altitude, forcing his pursuer too follow.

He climbed, and climbed, and climbed. All the time, the enemy fighter remained on his tail, matching his speed.

Then suddenly, he cut his engines. Sending his TIE careening into a freefall, GreatWolf held his nerve, allowing the fighter too fall, the surprised enemy pilot was slow to respond, sluggishly trying to lower his altitude. Once he was approximately one hundred metres below his foe, GreatWolf reignited his engine power, setting himself up behind his opponent, he had, with one swift manuovre, reversed his hunter into the hunted.

Forcing himself to stay on his opponents tail as he dodged, weaved and turned, GreatWolf checked his instruments to ensure his weapons systems were back, they were, and he unleashed upon his enemy.

There were few things more satisfying than a burning X-Wing.
Scratch one Reppie pilot. He thought, satisfied.

Swiftly reversing course back down to the main battle raging below in the skies of the planet, he kicked his engines up a gear, he had lost too much time already. However, given his shields were at critical lows, he knew he would need to fly more cautiously, and avoid any hits from this point on.

He set his sight on pursuing a Y-wing, but was interrupted by the voice of the SC over the comm.

“Rora, those Y-wings are on approach vector to the Field HQ of the Army boys on the surface. If one of those bombers gets through, we could lose our command and control capabilities, take them out before they get through.”

As if on cue, GreatWolf’s line of approach was blocked by two X-wings barrelling towards him. He veered to the right to avoid them, but one remained on his tail. He heard Makenna screaming at him over the comm.

“Wolf break, break, you have a missile lock on your tail.”
But this missile was not so easy to evade, and he felt his TIE Interceptor jolt as the missile slammed into him, peeling off several layers of protection of his TIE. His shields were now fully dead. But Makenna came to his rescue, attacking his pursuer and forcing him to evade. Thus preventing him from finishing the supine TIE flown by her wingman.

But at that moment, GreatWolf’s weapons systems failed again. He swore viciously as he rolled his TIE, fighting the damaged machine as it responded sluggishly too his instructions.

Suddenly, he saw a lone Y-Wing,the pilot silently but doggedly streaking towards his target, on a clear attack vector for the VE’s High Command Building.

He’s going to wipe out the whole brass! GreatWolf thought. Alarmed, he checked his scanners, seeing if he could hail one of his squadron mates. He despaired, as all his squadron mates were too far away to strike the Y, or were currently busy in their own vicious dogfights. In those few precious seconds, the bomber streaked ever closer to firing range. Even a single bombing run could cause significant damage, the building would be devastated.
Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind, an insane, horrible, crazy ingenious idea.

Switching the channel on his comms, GreatWolf hailed all his squadron mates, they deserved to know what was happening, and especially given he wasn’t sure he would survive.
“Aurora, there’s an enemy Y-wing rapidly approaching the edge of the combat zone, he must’ve slipped our attack. He’s too far for you too engage, and my weapons systems are shot. I’ll take care of him, but...” He improvised the last bit.
“If you see an ejection seat, send a notification to the Stormies, and I’ll rejoin you when I can. But if.. I don’t make it, it’s been an honour.”
Then, without waiting for a response from his stunned squadronmates, he tuned out to the sound of his comms, and focused entirely on his task.


Utilising his Interceptor’s superior speed, he cut all remaining power to his now defunct weapons system, pushing his damaged craft to the limits, hitting the afterburner as he rocketed through the sky, straight towards his quarry. He was going too fast to match speed and fall into pursuit of his quarry. But pursuit of the Y-wing was not his goal. His instruments were screaming at the stress being placed on the ship, the danger of his damaged craft overloading increasing by the second, GreatWolf kept his course.


Then, several things happened in a very few short moments.


Making extra sure he was properly restrained in his seat, Wolf waited until he was directly on a collision course for the Y-wing. When he was just a second away from collision, he yanked hard on the sturdy rope that signaled the ejection to begin.

His seat was blown out of the TIE, throwing him out of his craft at lightning speed. GreatWolf felt as though his eyeballs were being ripped out of his sockets, but was able to witness the satisfaction of his TIE ramming into the Y-Wing. At such high speed, neither ship stood a chance of survival. The debris from both vessels flared in all directions, a foot long piece of steel flew by, missing GreatWolf’s face by mere inches.

Lucky for that, I didn’t fancy decapitation, he thought morbidly as the flames from both craft were extinguished by the blackness of his rapidly fading vision.

His vision was gone, his seat travelling down so fast that his eyes couldn’t adjust. This wasn’t the first time GreatWolf had ejected, his time in CORSEC had seen to that, but it wasn’t any less painful than the first time he had done it. The G-Force alone was enough to make it his least enjoyed part of being a pilot.


He felt frantically for the repulsor lift function of the chair, desperate to return some semblance of balance to his careening seat, and finding it, he frantically stabbed it with a finger of his gloved hand.

He was rewarded with an immediate slowing of his speed, as he felt the chair begin a more controlled descent towards the ground. His vision slowly righted itself, and he was greeted with the sight of the planet below, a rather beautiful world. As he glanced towards the horizon, his thoughts turned to the natural beauty of the ocean.

Hey, I could stay up here forever, It’s quite nice. Cool too, I never enjoyed hot weather

His head was feeling dizzy, as a consequence of the stress that ejection had imposed on his body, and he was sure he was at least partially delirious given the irrelevant thought that had just crossed his mind, but at least he was alive. He glanced upward as his seat continued to descend, but saw only a few small specks in the sky high above him that marked his fellow pilots in Aurora Squadron.

But GreatWolf? He was going down, down, down.

After another minute or so, his descent more controlled and his senses slowly returning to full capacity, he began thinking of activating his parachute, once he was closer to the ground, it would soften what would otherwise be a rough impact between his seat and the ground. As he spotted a copse of trees below him, GreatWolf gently guided his seat towards a clearing near their edge. He had no idea where the landing was in relation to the rest of the planet, but at least it was suitable to land on without dying.
With just a few hundred metres to go, he activated the chord on his parachute, letting it inflate above his head like a ballooning mushroom. It would cushion his fall.

And then, just a few seconds later, his gently descending chair hit the surface.
His landing was rough, but less rough than he would’ve otherwise anticipated. Ultimately, he was left with no worse injury than a sore posterior.

The whole process had taken probably less than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime, for a moment, he just sat in his chair motionless, allowing his racing pulse to calm, and his body to get its bearings.

He was alive, and more than that, he had destroyed the enemy craft. He had stopped its bombing run, and he was sure that he had saved a good many lives, as well as possibly the VE’s chances in the battle.

Not bad for a washed-up former CORSEC pilot with severe interpersonal relationship issues. He grinned savagely at the thought.
He then slowly unbuckled his ejection seat, and slowly stood, trying to get his bearings. He was sure that the VE was engaged on the ground as well, an idea was forming in his head. He would link up with an Army unit, then, as soon as he was able, would take a transport back up to the Ajudicator.

Hell, if I miss the rest of the space battle, at least I might make dinnertime, he grimaced as his aching muscles took a moment to adjust to his standing.

He turned to rummage through his supplies, finding the standard equipment strapped to any ejection seat. His comlink, (not that he knew the frequencies that would be that helpful for rescue right now), a few small biscuits, which would serve as food in case he was down here longer than anticipated and, the all-important DL-44 Blaster Pistol. He was sure that the tracking device on his ejection seat had been activated, meaning the Navy would have a reasonable idea of his location, he was also sure that they would contact the Army and send someone in his general direction, but, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t encounter potential hostiles first.
But for now, he simply uncocked the pistol and remained where he was, if he was lucky, the Army would find him before he did anything, and given his signal was attached to his ejection seat, he preferred not to have to give them a harder time finding him by moving to far away.

But if the New Republic had a group that found him first, things could get hairy. He hoped he had made the right choice. He pulled off his flight helmet and gently placed it on the ground.
Ah well, I always wanted to meet a Stormie.  he thought, as he settled himself down on the ground beside his seat, eyes scanning the treeline for any signs of movement.

Quote:OOC: After Action Report
OK! A lot happened in this post. First an engagement with the enemy leads to a couple of shots endangering GreatWolf before his Flight Lead saves him. He then pulls a sweet move by deliberately stalling his craft's engines to get himself behind a pursuing Reppie before blasting him. After getting hit with a missile, his weapons bug out again, and leave him damaged and shield less in a firefight. Nice.

After that, he spots a Y-Wing on bombing course for the nerve centre of VE operations, and, with no weapons and his squadron mates too far away to help, he rams it, destroying his craft and making him realize just how harsh a mistress gravity really is when he ejects.

He's now on the ground, awaiting either rendevous with an Army unit, or a Reppie force, whichever arrives first. This post was written with approval from Stormz and Havoc after I thought of it as an idea for some inter-branch cooperation in the story. If any Army people want to get involved, feel free to write yourselves into a position where GreatWolf can link up with you, and then I'll have him tag along until he can get a transport back up to the space above. Given he's a fighter jock out of his depth, it should make for some hilarious writing. Let's get our cooperative creativity flowing Army friends!

If anyone has a problem with the post, or anything that needs changing, let me know, I'm amiable.

Full post length was 2'105 words.

All the smart lads joined the Navy, Swamprat thought despondently. Listening to the briefing from Dusk had rammed it home how deep they were in it. Past our knees and getting higher. He wasn't the only feeling it, Karash let vent to his own feelings on the matter. Their section leader didn't let it pass though. Regardless of who the enemy was or how many they were facing, they were going out there.

Cathal kept his mouth firmly shut as those with more experience weighed in. If there's anything left of the defenses, he thought grimly, Dusk's words not lifting his spirits. He didn't waste time with them, they had their orders. The Direcats began to move out, presenting a small model of cohesiveness amidst all the chaos.

Because chaos there was. For every soldier running for the front, there were two streaming back. The Direcats shouldered their way through the press, using elbows and rifle butts as an encouragement for others to get out of their way. Cathal's stomach clenched, he wasn't happy with it. Everyone else seemed to have the better idea of fleeing, digging themselves in a safe hole and waiting it out. They were going right into the meatgrinder.

Dropships stretched everywhere, too many for the defense batteries to take out. Even if they were all scoring direct hits, they just had too many targets. And each dropship disgorged masses of armed soldiers, right into the maelstrom.

Scratch companies and ad hoc fireteams had managed to establish a defensive line but they were barely holding. The stormtroopers holding the position ahead of them barely acknowledged them. Swamprat found he was running half crouched now, acutely aware of the stray blaster bolts fired overhead.

His fingers squeezed the grip tight, listening as Dusk relieved the defenders. You lucky bastards, was all he could think as the survivors pulled back. The Direcats moved to take them over. “So we're a speedbump” he said aloud. Sacrificed to buy time for the rest of the battalion. He wondered how many other sections or squads were being ordered forward, forlorn hopes to allow their comrades to get organised.

He rose, fired off two bursts at a group of running figures and then ducked down again. The barricade groaned in sympathy as return blaster fire clipped it, aimed at where he'd been standing a moment ago. Cathal rose again and snapped off another couple of shots before ducking down again. He couldn't tell if he was hitting anything but it made him feel better. And at least it would encourage them to keep their heads down.

“This is pure gak” he swore, changing his blaster clip and steeling himself for another pop up. Everytime he rose above the barrier he could see the sheer scale of the assault, the fighting that stretched to either side of him. The leapfrogging teams, there was enough of them to keep up a horrendous weight of fire while their friends scrambled forward. And all the time getting closer.

Cathal began crawling to his left. Even over the din of the battlefield, he became aware of a rumbling sound. Even the ground was shaking. He was diving aside when his section of the barricade caved in.

The T2-B repulsor tank was really designed for reconaissance and raids, its light shields weren't really designed for roughhousing. But small enough for some infantry transports, it was the perfect addition for the attackers to give their first wave a little extra muscle until they could land heavier gear. For the Imperial infantry dug in around the barricades, it was a horrible spanner to toss in the mix.

Of course Cathal didn't know this. All he saw was an armoured leviathan, the tank coasting forward slowly as it scanned. Its quad-laser turret swivelled to track the next defensive position, laying down heavy suppressive fire. A few stray shots were fired back but they glanced harmlessly off its shields. A moments pause and the turret was already recalibrating to track another target.

“This is Swamprat” Cathal panted into his com, he was scrambling away on hands and knees, terrified lest the tank turn its attention to him. “We have a breach. A tank! It's a fethin tank!”

OOC:

Objective 2.

Heavy fighting at the barrier. One of the NR light tanks breaches the Direcat perimeter

*thump* *thump* Dead? No, heart’s still beating, wish it wasn’t. Knocked out? Probably? Bad dream? Hopefully. RK lay silent on the ground, her heart beating faster inside her chest. Her mind was swirling, every sense was being overloaded without warning. The only comfort was that the sounds were distant, and that meant for now she was safe.
Blaster fire could be heard off to her right, how she could tell in her state was undefinable, but it was a start. okay, not dead, but not sleeping either. What happened? RK’s eyes sprang open. The sunlight immediately burned right through the retinas, causing the eyelids to instinctively blink in retaliation, but in the moment there was no time to get acquainted, she had to move.
Last thing, knocked in head, why, what’s going on? Ah right, planet being attacked Rebel scum? What does it matter? People are shooting, others are dying, and I need to move or else I’ll be in the dying column and as much as I’ll make a pretty corpse, I’d rather not go out this way. RK reached down after her radio, luckily it was still on her hip where she had left it. She pressed the button frantically, still blinking the sun away. “This Gunnery Sergeant RK, I’ve just woken up and require a sit rep.” She stifled a chuckle realizing how ridiculous she sounded.
“fzzzzzy---R….Serge…..ETA……coo…what is you… coord” a muffled voice came through the radio.
“If you can hear me, I’m not sure location, sending coordinates via morse.” RK sighed heavily as she put the code through. Hopefully, someone would pick it up and help; in the meantime, doing a quick inventory wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“Fzzzzt…. Tank…. All ….troo…. Wall breached.”
Pushing herself up she dusted off the bruises. Immediately aware of the pain in her left leg, causing her to kneel faster than she was expecting. “Damn, should have stayed asleep.”
“RK… Gunnery Sergeant RK…if you can read this we have your location, sending a speeder….ETA…..” RK blinked as she heard the roar of engines coming towards her. The welcoming party was either faster than a commlink, or trouble was coming. Without thinking she dropped, the pain in her leg would be fine without pressure; Her blaster primed and ready i, radio muffled under her stomach, whichever they were she was prepared.
Time seemed to slow as the engines grew louder. RK rested her finger firmly, waiting for any sign of who the intruders to her domain might be.
“ETA, 2 seconds, do you copy RK?”
The speeder came into view only moments after the radio broadcast, it slowed to a complete halt 3 feet in front of RK’s position, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. “Well, at least you guys are timely.” She stood up, trying her best to let her left leg hang limp, it wasn’t working well, but she wasn’t going to let these men know she was in pain.
Two imperial officers raced to her side, arms extended as they went to pick her up. RK thrust the one man in the neck and the other he fended with his right arm. “I may look weak, but if you two even knew who I was you would keep your distance.”
“Ma’am…” RK shot him a death stare that would burn the hair off a Wookie, but let him proceed. “Your vitals state your left leg is injured, and you sustained a pretty heavy blow. You need aid.”
“What I need is my armor and more weapons, my leg is only a casualty, and whatever is going on out there needs more attention. Besides it’s a sprain not broken, so if you’d be kind enough to take me back to the nearest barracks that would be great.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The imperial officer nodded and headed for the cockpit at once.
This day is starting out interesting.

OOC:

okay short post, very haphazard I apologize, but mostly just to get me writing again, and actually in the story so I'm not lazy and keep up.do with RK as you will, set her on the path to , whatever.

The adrenaline had began to wear off on Amram and he had been feeling the effects of the blaster wound in his calf.  He needed to take some time and at least staunch the wound if not see about bandaging it. The cauterization that originally occurred when the the blaster bolt first hit had finally worked it self open and had began to bleed again a slow oozing kind of bleeding rather than a gushing flowing type but the point of it was that the bleeding was continuous and the flow was starting to increase as the cauterized flesh flaked off and the wound opened more.

The enemy group that was following him had retreated with their injured man... so much for the militia and their determination to win a fight. He didn't have much time but there was still enough for him to clean up his leg. Finding a secure place Amram sat down and rolled up his pant leg. There was a dark redish black spot that had covered a large portion of his pant leg around the hole burnt into it. The leg it self was not terrible just a single entry wound that had burned the meat forty five minutes  in a bacta soak would make him right as rain but currently he had no access to a bacta tank so he had to rely on what he had which was mud and a chunk of sleeve or the bottom of his shirt torn off.  To staunch the wound.

Diging down into the soil where it was dam Amram grabbed a dollop of wet dirt not so wet that it would wash out and not so dry that it wouldn't cake and he packed it into the hole in his calf. He than ripped off the bottom of his shirt and tied it around his calf to keep every thing in place and slow down what ever bleeding that had stared. His calf was even stiffer and was beginning to have a dull ache that pulsed with his steps but at least it was not bleeding any more and that was something.

He knew his mission, what he was supposed to do in such an emergency and that was to aid in the securing of the securing of the grounds by creating traps, harassing the enemy and firing weapons at enemy ships. It would just be easier with more than one person in the area. He knew there were others in the area but just not in his immediate vicinity.

As he gathered his resources and began working out a more long term plan besides running his communicator chirped.

Quote: “Direcats, you are in the middle of a mess but nothing you can’t handle. Dig in, help is coming. Anyone else listening in, encryption code alpha 429 will give you Bravo location, make your way there and reinforce Direcats.”

Now that was his apparent new mission to make his way to Bravo location and reinforce. Acknowledging the new instructions with a click of his communicator Amram set  alpha 429 and followed the beckon.

OOC:

519 words. Amram is now making his way to Bravo Location to reinforce Direcats.

OOC:

Objective Something or other. Five I think.

When Bright was brought into the Command Center, the first thing she did was cast her gaze over the entire room. She still wasn't convinced that Havock was alive, no matter what these idiotic security goons told her. She was surprised that only four of them were escorting her. Did they feel safe because she was in nothing but a bikini? Or did they think she wasn't dangerous because they had taken her weapon from her? Either way she wasn't impressed.

She heard a laugh from the middle of the room and her eyes snapped to the woman who had let it loose. The woman shook her head, “Damn Rain, still know how to make an entrance.”

A profound sense of relief pervaded Brightstar's mind and heart. This was Havock. She watched as the blond walked toward her and without missing a step she grabbed the lead security officer by his shirt collar and slammed him into the wall. The other officers flinched but kept their weapons lowered. “Did you not think to offer the lady something to cover up? Who the frack raised you? A gorram Hutt? We do not let ladies, especially those who your commander says are friendlies walk through a damn combat zone in nothing but a bikini, do I make myself clear officer?”

The officer croaked out an 'understood' and Ayme dropped him to the floor. Bright blinked at the woman before a slow smile worked its way onto her face. The urge to tackle her friend in a hug was almost overpowering. Not many people, even in the very small circle she could call friends, would jump to her defense like that. And it wasn't something she'd been expecting from Havock at all. Ayme's  voice instantly softened as she turned towards her. “Bright, follow me and we can get you more appropriate attire. Where the hell have you been?”

Everyone watched as Bright turned and followed Havock out the door, her head held high and her dignity still intact. She wanted to tell Havock everything. Where she'd been, what she'd been doing. She just didn't know where to begin. There were parts of her story that she didn't want to talk about. Mostly because she hadn't quite figured them out herself. Just thinking about how she'd been abandoned by someone she had loved, and had thought loved her, made the hurt and anger rise up inside her. She clenched her fists and breathed deeply for a moment to get her emotions back under control. She remembered well the last time she'd let her anger take control. She was still repairing he damage she'd caused to the Huntress.

Letting out a long heavy sigh, she looked back up to find that Havock was looking back at her, concern was written over the other woman's features and Bright smiled reassuringly, she hoped. “I'm fine.” And it was true, she was fine.

“ I really just don't know where to begin.” Rain spoke again, pulling up beside her friend. She contemplated telling Havock everything and just as quickly decided she would. She'd never had reason to doubt that her secrets were safe with the General, and from the time their friendship had been forged, she'd not kept any secrets from her.  “I escaped from Lotaith before this whole mess happened.” She said softly. “Don't ask me how, I really don't recall. Mostly I just remember waking up in some cave on Dathomir.”

When she looked at Havock, she could see a raised brow. She wondered for a moment what was going on in her friend's head. “You went home”

Rain nodded, “It must have been a subconscious act. That's all some of us desire sometimes.”

Havock nodded in understanding. Rain took that opportunity to give the General a good once over. “What are you doing?” The shorter woman asked.

“Trying to see if you're injured yet.” Bright replied nonchalantly, “If you aren't it means I have to keep my eyes open for any random attacks.” She felt the slight sting of a smack on her shoulder and she grinned.

“I resent that remark.” The blond said, trying to sound affronted.

“You mean you resemble that remark.” Bright laughed. Havock just rolled her eyes, but Rain could see the slight smirk in the upturn of Havock's lips.

“In here.” Havock said pushing open a door that lead to a locker room of sorts.  The moment the locker room door closed and Havock turned toward her again, Rain reached out an pulled the other woman to her in a tight embrace. She'd thought her closest friend to be long dead. To see her alive and to see her face and hear her voice again, was almost more than the red head could bare.

"Um.... Rain?" She could hear the question in Ayme's voice. She could feel the shock in the way Havock had stiffened.

"Shut up and give me a hug. I thought you were dead, woman." And the truth of that statement hit Rain harder than she ever thought it would. She HAD thought Ayme was dead, well and truly so. She'd mourned for her friend like she'd mourned her massacred clan. Somehow this woman had wormed her way so far into Bright's heart that she'd become something more than just a comrade or friend. The relief that had hit her in the Command Room flooded her system again, but it was tinged with genuine sorrow. “I thought you were dead.” She whispered again.

Emotions had never been Bright's thing before. She'd rarely showed them despite how she felt, and that had earned her the title of Cold-hearted, on more than a few occasions. But she did have emotions and she did feel them, and she wasn't about to let the people that mean the most to her thing she didn't care.

OOC:

978 words. Yes I am well aware she is still in the bikini, but hey you can't rush emotion people. I think this will be my last post with that darn thing anyway. Hopefully Havock can give me something to do when Bright is all situated. carry on.

OOC:

Objective 1

Ayme blinked and tentatively brought her hands around the scantily clad woman in her arms. She and Rain shared a unique connection during their time together in the army. They formed a dependable friendship as two of the most closed off and secretive people somehow finding solace in finally meeting someone who understood. Ayme scoffed to herself remembering something a childhood friend once told her, 'Havock you are the only person I know who I could talk to for an hour and still not know at all.'

Ayme slowly brought her hands to her friends shoulder and pushed gently so she could look her in the eyes. "It's good to see you too Rain. Thinking you were dead sucked."

With a smirk Ayme walked over to a locker and retrieved one of her extra command uniforms. It was absent any rank or accolade which made it look somewhat odd as she ran her fingers over the collar. She passed it to Brightstar then reached into the back of the locker to a hidden compartment and pulled out a holster and small pistol, placing both on a nearby bench.

"Should fit...I'll just...examine the paint over there."

Bright laughed and watched her friend move away, her eyes landing on an object attached to the Generals hip. "You have your lightsaber on you? That's new."

Ayme shrugged. "Yea well when all this happened there wasn't time for a press release, I can only hope our old friends on Lopen don't take offense."

The sound of clothes rustling filled the silence until it was broken again. "I went to Dathomir, where did you go Ayme?"

A mournful staccato of a laugh escaped the blondes lips. "I went everywhere and nowhere. Moved from spaceport to hangar looking for anonymous mechanic jobs, never stayed in any one place longer than a few months. I thought everyone was dead Rain, that I had failed so damn completely, I had no idea what to think when I got the comm to return."

The click of the holster snapping into place jerked Ayme out of her reverie and she turned slowly towards the familiar red head, now dressed in a tan uniform.

"Ayme none of what happened here was your fault. Now let's move on to the present issue. Where do you need me?"

Ayme nodded and indicated the woman should follow her as they made their way through the cooridors back to the command center. "I need people I can trust close Rain. The NR managed to turn the locals on us, I have no way of knowing who is loyal and who is a plant. They hit us hard and fast, sabotage mostly. And you know how much I love a good explosion but I prefer to be the one that set the charge. Honestly if I wasn't so pissed off at the bastards I'd be impressed."

They walked through the doors to see a half dozen techs working away at their terminals and Gates looking on from his post.

"I think if our ground troops start to win, there will be a nasty surprise waiting for us. Care to see if we can find it before it blows up my ass?"

Bright smirked, "sounds just like old times Havvie, I'm in."

"Excellent, Gates you have command, until Merrick decides to rejoin us." The man nodded to the Prefect and returned to look over one of the techs shoulder. "Follow me Rain, we have vents to check. And don't think you're getting out of explaining that bikini."

Trevor shook his head after watching Greatwolf eject and send his fighter careening into a Y-wing that had broken off from the main fray and was headed in the general direction of the Vast Empire command headquarters. He watched from a distance as the seat fell without a chute, then saw the chute pop out. Standard rules of engagement said that Greatwolf wouldn't be shot on the way down, although could be captured or killed once on the ground. Hopefully not, though.

“Hey Bolt, that was Greatwolf's fighter that just went down. Saw his chute pop though, he should be alright for now.” Trevor said, rolling his fighter back towards the main battle.

“Damn, we could have used his help up here.” Arianna replied, squeezing off a few shots at an X-wing and missing. She chased the X-wing through a series of loops and turns, occasionally firing off blasts from her cannons when she thought she had a shot lined up. Thanks to the distraction Arianna was providing, both her and the X-wing failed to notice the TIE of Aurora 11, Scandal, coming in from above.

Just as Arianna had her shot finally lined up, a volley of green tracers impacted the X-wing, destroying the astromech and sending the fighter into a shallow, spinning dive. The Republic pilot timed his ejection correctly and the canopy of the fighter burst away, allowing him an escape. Once clear of the battle his parachute also deployed, before he fell out of sight into the trees below. His X-wing exploded a few kilometres away after crashing into a row of buildings.

“Hey!” Arianna shouted out. “That was my kill!”

“Sorry Commander, had to steal it.” Scandal replied, cockily flying downwards past Arianna in a tight barrel roll. He continued downward farther than Trevor expected, before he yelped back onto the comm. “I've got no control inputs, everything is dead. Ground is approaching fast, canopy won't release!”

Scandal's Flight Leader, Jake, quickly hopped into the conversation. “Scandal, don't panic and just pull the manual release for the hatch, it'll also trigger the ejection seat.”

“Right, don't panic. Got this.” Scandal replied, easily reaching above his head but straining against the g-forces from the roll to pull his arm and the lever towards him. “Pulling...now!”

As predicted, the top hatch of the TIE flew off with little drama, but the ejection seat did not shoot out the top as Trevor was expecting to see. Scandal was audibly panicking over the comm now.

“Seat won't fire, controls still dead. No throttle, no air brakes, no seat, no yoke!” There was silence for a split second, then, sounding surprisingly calm, he continued. “I think this is it, guys.”

“No, don't quit, keep trying the yoke, try anything!” Arianna chirped, concern flowing through her voice. The rest of the battle seemed to stop for a few seconds as almost the entire squadron was now trying to pay attention to what was happening. A few more seconds passed in silence, finally broken by Scandal.

“I've got controls back! Pulling out of the roll and pulling back up. Dangerously low though!” He yelled, excitement filling the comm. Unfortunately, he was already too low. By the time he had the craft righted and was beginning to pull out of his dive, physics was no longer on his side. His TIE started a slow pull out of the dive but the lower portions of the wings collided with the ground at a 45 degree angle, flipping the rest of the fighter into the ground and igniting it into a large fireball.

“Sithspit! Cocky young idiot, what was he thinking!” Aurora 9 cursed angrily, the sound of his fist slamming against a control panel audible to all listening. Everyone else remained silent for a moment, before remembering they were in the middle of a large dogfight.

Trevor's attention snapped back to reality as he heard the missile lock warning from his fighter. He instinctively rolled to the right and pulled back hard on the yoke, cutting engine power with his other hand to send the fighter into an end-over-end spin. Predictably the Y-wing that had had the lock did not have the manoeuvrability to follow his tight arc and overshot. As soon as the tail end of the Y-wing filled his view port Trevor gave the engines 75% power and shot forward, coming out of the spin behind the Y-wing.

A quick double tap of the missile trigger with his thumb sent a pair of unguided missiles into the rear end of the Y-wing, colliding only seconds later. With no missile lock warning the Y-wing didn't even stand a chance to get out of the way. One of the engine pods snapped away from the Y-wing, with the other impacting near the astromech. With one engine gone and the pilot potentially unconscious, the bomber made a spinning decent, crashing less than three hundred meters from Scandal's resting place.

“Aurora Squadron, this is the Adjudicator. Just wanted to let you know we are uploading the fix for the virus now, you guys should be good to go in just under thirty seconds. Hopefully we aren't too late.” A voice said over the comm, one that Trevor recognized as the engineer he had first reported the problem to. “Wait, I'm only showing ten fighters left in the squadron?”

“Yes, unfor-” Arianna started, before Trevor cut her off.

“Yeah, we've lost two so far, but only one confirmed KIA and only one as a direct result of the virus. You did you best, thanks.” Trevor said, hearing a sigh come through from the engineer.

“Upload will be done in 15 seconds, good luck out there.”

OOC:

AAR: One of the NPC pilots from Aurora is down, thanks to the control system virus. An X-wing and a Y-wing are also down, so at least that's positive. The virus has also been repaired so we don't have to worry about that anymore Aurora.

OOC:

Objective 1 – Vents moving to SOC

Vents, why do we always end up in vents? Ayme could hear Brightstar shuffling behind her through the filthy tubes towards their destination. The element of surprise was the only reason they used the vents. She wouldn’t bet her friends life on the assumption that they had found all the traitors. 

“You with me Rain?” Ayme whispered as she slowed her motion enough to turn in the cramp space and look at the other woman. Bright looked flushed but her eyes were determined as she nodded tersely.

With a sigh Ayme directed a puff of air from her mouth in a vain attempt to move her sweaty hair from her face. “Here’s my idea. We need to get to the Security Operations Center (SOC) it’s got all the non-essential security holos and I pulled the detail to assist in the academy control room so they are not currently monitored.”

Deep breaths punctuated Bright’s words as she spoke. “Use that to see if anything looks suspicious. You are actually making plans and not just running into danger? Who are you and what did you do with my squad leader?” Bright tried to end with a whispered laugh but it fell short between labored breaths.

Ayme smirked but didn’t respond right away. She continued to move knowing that the reason for her friends  discomfort was their current location. She remembered that the red head never really liked enclosed spaces yet they always seemed to end up in them in Raiders. Ayme didn’t mind so much, growing up she had been in worse places for far longer than she had experienced as a soldier.

Ayme muttered as she approached the grate leading down into the SOC. “She’s right here, and she’s not letting you get hurt.” With a grunt Ayme pushed the grate open and slowly lowered the metal in an attempt to silence the hinges. She slid forward enough to look down into the room.

Rows of terminals sat vacant with a wall of large screens flashing an over stimulating combination of scrolling text and pictures.  Ayme closed her eyes letting her senses sweep over the machinery, the last entry on any of the keyboards was several hours before. With that and the lack of movement she took her chances and dropped down into the room landing in a crouch. She quickly pulled her blaster up to the read and swept the room.

She turned to motion for Bright to drop down only to find the red head already securing the door to the SOC. Ayme shook her head but smirked fondly at the other woman.  She cracked her knuckles and approached the large displays that cycled through the main security feeds. Okay rats, where are you hiding?

Amram detested rushing things to to say that he hurried any where would be in accurate but he did not stay too long from his sniping position. The key to a strong misdirection was after all to not be where you are expected to be. He was on his way to rendezvous that was easy enough in theory. Putting it into practice was another story he would have to either truck around to another base entrance and possible lead a force to the same alternate entrance.

He once again thought the situation through, his best plan of action was to not find an alternate entrance but continue putting pressure on the enemies flanks. Amram was not the only Storm trooper to have thought of this or at least not the only one pursuing that particular course of action any more. There were now several strafing shots and true sniper shots coming from elsewhere and there were New Republic and Militia parties beginning to hunt for them.

Amram started to move away from where the largest amount of sniping and strafing fire was coming from. While he didn't hurry he did keep a brisk eight minute mile pace and happened upon a speeder with a turret mounted on its back. The speeder was parked with one gunner and one driver/spotter both paying attention to the combat and firing their turret at the body of Vast Empire forces.

Taking his pistol from its holster he crept towards the speeder and waited. If he timed things right he could mask his pistols noise with the noise from the turret. The gunner fired and so did Amram and put a hole into the spotters rib cage. Amram moved forward in the pause that it took the gunner to figure out that his partner had been killed. When the gunner found Amram standing next to the back of the speeder it was too late. Amram let the gunner utter "OH Shi!" before firing several shots into him.

Now taking the radio from the spotters cold dead hand he clicked it on and shouted "They're firing into us!." He hoped that both the New Republic and Militia were still on the same frequencies and hoped to further confuse the situation. Taking a boot lace from one of the dead militia men he set the turret to automatic fire and aimed it indiscriminately at the main body of New Republic and Militia soldier and tied the trigger into the firing position and left it to fire the recoil changing the position just so to hit another part of the New Republic Militia mass using a second boot lace to hold it in a general position.

A hunting party would soon be investigating the turret and why it was firing at them so Amram decided to not be there. He was not after one of those that would pull the trigger on the turret firing it into the mass yelling heroically while snipers began picking others off in a glorious fur ball of guns and erupting fire balls. Most likely he would get his head perforated. Leaving the turret to fire till its energy cell burned out or its barrel melted down. Amram Moved on.

OOC:

Objective 4 and 5 I think. 538 words. Basically Amram is putting pressure on the flanks of the New Republic and Militia forces and trying to keep them fighting.