Einarr double checked the preflight on his interceptor, his fingers danced over the power switches before double checking the yoke and foot peddles, as he waited for the go order on board the Fearless. Off to one side he watched Imperial marines in their shining white armor boarding the Delta-class Dx-9s Stormtrooper Transport II 'Krayt Dream' the last of the squads moved into position and proceeded inside, their orderly lines unbroken by the tension of anticipating the combat to come.Senior crewman Simone Nailo tossed him a lazy salute from the cockpit of the Krayt before a voice came over the comms.

"Krayt Actual to Krayt escort prepare for launch. The eggs are loaded and we are ready to take them to market. Just waiting for confirmation from control"

"Krayt flight this is Control, flight lanes are clear you are good for launch" came the bass tones of the control operator a few moments later.

Einarr checked his straps one final time as as the launch cradle holding the interceptor tilted slightly in preparation of launch, he grabbed the yoke as the sudden drop and the thrill of acceleration filled him. Krayt flight dropped from their berths and cleared the bay, the twin ion engines roared to life as the stars streaked past in the view-ports to either side. Nailo launched a few seconds behind in the Krayt dream, the slower transport lagged behind its escorts on Einarr's radar screen. The voice of Flight leader Jacek Daisho called over the command channel.

"OK boys and girls, lets keep it clean and tight. I don't want any of that pirate scum to get close to the Krayt. 3 your with me."

"Roger K-1, K-3 confirms and obeys" Einarr replied as he dropped back into wing position of the lead interceptor. They evened out their flight paths with gentle adjustments of the yoke and the rudder pedals to shelter the right side of the Krayt. Both watched as another squadron in the distance lit off a group of y-ties.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<+++++++>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(onboard the Krayt Dream)

Senior crewman Nailo smiled at the flashes of light that heralded the destruction of the enemy fighters knowing it would make it that much easier for him to get his cargo safely to the target. "Krayt escort this is Krayt Actual our target is the freighter at the following co-ordinates" he nodded to the comm officer to his right who transferred the navcomp data to the rest of the flight. "lets hit it hard, unload and get that freighter out of the fight!"

"Confirmed Krayt Actual, This is Krayt Lead we'll keep the Y-dies and the spinners off yah, you just get there." came the reply of Flight leader Daisho, Overly cheerful as ever.

Switching over to the in ship intercom he informed the \Marines in the hold "Not long now boys. Sergeant please have someone ready to work the airlock."

Sergeant Ebrin Jacobs nodded to his men. "alright troops, lets show these fly boys how real men take down a ship. Delta on Hatch, Beta on standby to secure with the SAW, Alpha prepare to follow and advance. Hit em Hard and teach them what it is to fight a Marine." The squads reply was a solid and enthusiastic "Oorah!"

Private Bodan and PFC Sahdri'tona of Delta fire-team pulled the charging handle on their rifles and prepared for contact, the armor of the human contrasting sharply with that of his Twi'lek compatriot as they made themselves ready to slide free of their harness and take position on the door. Corporal Stonekrayt smiled as he finished a note and slides it into a pocket on the armor of his right boot. The medic Lance Corporal Shackleheart proceeded to carry out a double check of his gear, the DL-44 seeming small in its holster in comparison the the Heavy gun crew of Beta seated to his right.

PFC Simmons of Beta went over the workings of the units SAW, a M224-A3 "Surf 'n Turf" Heavy Support Weapon. They made sure to double check the casings and the loading mechanism for the under-slung rocket launcher for clearing the fortified choke-points and made sure the spare ammo containers carried by his gunners assistant Private Roman were stocked and carried properly in the slots on the second mans harness. Roman also carried a E-11/C Compact Blaster Rifle in place of the standard rifle to compensate for the higher weight in munitions he carried. PFC Stonewall, an imposing figure at the best of times looked even more intimidating as he quietly honed the edge of a Vibrobayonet, his rifle slung in the harness in front of him. Corporal Blackwell sat, helmet in his hands, his mouth moving silently as he repeated the Oath of service to himself.

Sergeant Jacobs looked over his squad solemnly, the blank uniformity of his helmet disguising the worry in his heart. He was responsible for these men. Each had a story, a family, a friend, and in all likely-hood not all of them would return with him. He checked the communicator on his wrist one last time to confirm the message he had recorded before they launched was ready to be transmitted to the nearest imperial ship in the event of his death to be relayed to his wife back home. He turned to survey his own fireteam with pride, PFC's UmanShall'Ti and his brother Romek'Ti. As vicious in a fight as a Kath hound in a nerf herd. The Twi'leks took their honor in battle as a serious business. The quietly calculating Lance Corporal Maxwell Savage sat tinkering with his datapad. He had served with the mans brother, and so far the quiet computer technician has not disappointed the legacy. He knew these men were loyal and true to the Oaths and would fight and die... as Marines.



<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<++++++++++++++++>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

((back to SCRW Norsedragoon))

A flight of Y-ties had burst from cover behind the freighter moments before. Flight Lead Daisho had silenced the first one to venture in range with a paired burst from the lasers of his interceptor. The blow shearing off the port drive nacelle and overloading the pitiful crafts engine. The remaining foe had split seeking to get around the oncoming interceptors and get at the softer target of the dropship in their wake. "alright 3, lets remove the top then take the one who split right. 2 and 4 can handle the last one. Lets clean them up people." Daisho's voice called booming with energy thru the speakers in Einarr's helmet. The twin interceptors rolled wing over wing starboard before pumping a burst thru the attitude thrusters on the nose to flip their craft tip over tail. A second burst stabilized as they began cutting the negative acceleration and began boosting hard after the Y-die on their vertical.

Pulling relative up Daisho waited for the target lock to cry its siren song, juking with the enemy fighter to maintain it as he released a missile in a flared corona of blue light. The missile shot as if thrown from the hands of an old world god, engulfing the central T of the ugly, then in a sudden burst devouring the tiny craft in a cascade of escaping atmosphere, fuel, and pure energy. The Imperial pilots turned as if one toward their next target. Having lost Valuable time in chasing their previous victim, the second Y-tie had actually managed to make a single pass on the Krayt Dream. the Azure bolts from the small crafts forward mounted lasers causing the dropships shields to gain Opacity for bare moments as it struggled to bleed off the incoming energy.

Daisho and Einarr swiftly cut inside the turn of this last fighter and the Mon Cal carefully lined up his reticule. Einarr ripple fired a set of quad bursts from his lasers. The first undershot, second barely nicking what looked to be an improvised shield layer on the craft and the third tearing thru in a blaze of angry energy as finding his range as well as the rage of remembrance of his former masters demise by such scum as this. Einarr released a full 3 seconds of ripple fire from both his lasers and the blaster cannons. The pirate had no chance of ejecting to safety as the cobbled together fighter was torn asunder. The fuel released from the destroyed fighter mixing with the trace amounts of oxygen swiftly dissipating from the craft in vacuum in a millisecond of inferno.

Einarr regained himself as the voice of his flight lead came to him "NorseDragoon, snap out of it. its dead man." Einarr's cramped fingers released the death grip on the firing studs. He used these moments to regain his composure, his now Emerald flesh cooling to the deep green as he maneuvered back into position on Daisho's wing.

"Sorry Lead. I lost myself in the excitement. won't let it happen again." He calls, the trace of rage at both the pirates and himself for losing composure leaking into his voice. Members 2 and 4 returned and rejoined the Flight as they once again took up escort positions around the Krayt Dream.

OOC:

word count: 1502

The bridge of the Fearless is a scene of chaos, with men running back and forth and yelling information to one another, as outside of the ship's hull another battle rages, as much chaos as the scene on the bridge. To the untrained eye it would appear that the ship was in bad shape, and the crew badly trained, however nothing could be further from the truth. If one were to turn away from the chaos of the crew pits there on the bridge, and take a walk down the command walkway, past the ship's first officer, giving orders to the crew and concentrating on keeping them alive, they would arrive at the true center of command, and the place where most of the heavy decisions were being made, the ones that really mattered. There, standing over a holotable projecting a view of the battle raging outside of the hull, and with several smaller holos following the various boarding actions that are taking place, is a tall green skinned Falleen, his black uniform neatly pressed, and a look of intense concentration on his face, he is studying the situation before him.

"Chief, the enemy is beginning to retreat, tell the Burnish and the Amaranth to move in closer to the enemy base, order all fighter squadrons to finish their current engagements and return to the Fearless in order to refuel and rearm. Contact the Defiance and the Reaper, tell them to begin to move in closer to the base as they are able to." Turning to the man behind and slightly to the left of him, he issues the Marine orders as well, "Colonel, get your men loaded and prepared to land, you go in right after the bombers. We'll have Regents squadron standing by to give you close in fighter support as well should you need it. That will be all, good luck." the Marine Officer salutes crisply, then turns and leaves the Command center, heading down to the launch bays, and the rest of his battalion which is there waiting for him.

Suddenly the ship shudders beneath him, and klaxons begin to sound, both a proximity alarm, and numerous damage alerts.

MORE TO COME IN THIS POST, BUT IT IS LUNCH TIME, WANT TO GIVE YOU ALL THE NEXT PHASE TO LOOK AT HOWEVER.

OOC:

Word Count: In Progress
Here is our Objective:


PM me if you would like to request a particular assignment (OPEN TO ALL NAVY) and I'll give you a unit to do it with.

((onboard SCRW Ghylthirs interceptor))
The sensors read clear of enemy fighters as Krayt lead and Krayt 3 broke off to strafe the nose of the B-12 transport the Krayt Dream was rapidly approaching. Squeezing the firing toggle on the control yoke Einarr sent a steady stream of dual bursts into the transport stitching the vessel from nose to cockpit shielding with the azure bolts. He smiled as they met no resistance. "K-3 to lead, looks like someone beat us to it. Their shields are down sir" Einarr called over the com channel.

"Affirmative 3, Krayt Dream you are clear for maneuvers." Daisho's replied.

((onboard the Krayt Dream))

The troop compartment of the Krayt Dream reverberated with the impact as the Lock slammed into place on the hull of the B-12 bacta transport Life Wire. Pfc Simmons quietly quipped into the squad channel "think they'll give us a bounty for this one?"

"Quiet in the ranks Simmons. Less chatter more splatter" Sergeant Jacobs replied as the thrumming pulse of the cutting torch equipped on the airlock began its work. "Button up ladies, don't want to have to return home with a chiss blue trooper due to vapelock. Make sure your suits seals are tight and your blasters are charged." Jacobs put his words to action as he checked his own seals one last time, the readout on his helmet displayed green on all seals as the cutting torch finished its work. Beta squad moved to cover the hatch as Delta prepared to rush forward. Jacobs knew these men, he trusted these men, and he vowed he would bring them home safe as the burnt out hull plate on the far side of the airlock fell inwards onto the deck of the B-12 with the resounding echo of a death knell heralding the doom of any resistance onboard who stood in the way of this stalwart squad even as it promised atmosphere on the far side to carry the sound.

The airlocks ready light switched from the blazing crimson to the emerald green as it cycled open on an empty passage. The central passage that made the spine of the ship connecting the engines at the rear to the crew quarters, living area, and cockpit at the fore of the ship stood empty of resistance. The crew likely preferring the tactic of controlling the more open space at the front of the ship at which they could construct a choke-point from which to take down the troopers who would have to come thru the area to take the ship. "Beta hold the passage, Delta and Alpha on me. lets bring down engineering." Jacobs called as he turned toward the rear of the transport, he left PFC Simmons and the rest of the heavy fire-team taking cover positions with their weapons directed towards the front.

The twi'lek brothers from Alpha squad moved to take point, their practiced motions covered both high and low to cover the chance of either a kneeling or standing target, their E-11 blasters swept the area as Delta fell in behind. The remains of Alpha fire-team dropped into line of march behind with Lance Corporal Savage took rear guard. They moved rapidly towards a large airlock door, and took positions covering it as Savage slid forward and began slicing the door locks. His nimble fingers cracked the simple lock program and the access light turned from a dull amber to a shade of diluted green. Lance Corporal Savage slid back to rear as the point elements of Alpha, and Delta moved in they were met by a short burst of sizzled green bolts, the blasts impacted the floor and the wall to the right as PFC UmanShall'Ti returned the fire with a well aimed burst, A scream filled the compartment as a bothan dropped from cover, the pirates leg blown thru at the knee joint. Delta fireteam pushed forward as they traded shots with a pair of devronians who cowered behind a pair of crates against one wall of the engineering area.

The pirates shots were panicked as they endeavored to avoid the practiced aim of the marines who rushed their position, one of the pirates took a blast direct on his hand causing the pirate to drop the pistol from dead fingers. The last pirate tossed his blaster towards the oncoming troopers as he stood in surrender, PFC Romek'Ti smoothly slid around the crate and smashed the butt of his rifle against the devronians horned skull. The Twi'lek brothers swiftly secured the pair of devronians as Delta team secured the downed bothan, Lace Corporal Shackleheart moved between the three seeing to the injuries. Savage and Jacobs entered the bay and the engineer went to work, he disabled the engines, the main power-couplings springing loose with a few turns of his wrench before being carefully stowed in cradles that rested beside the engine.

Shackleheart administered a sedative to the 3 prisoners before Delta team stowed them trussed and gagged in a large storage locker. With the prisoners secured and the engines disabled the teams returned to the central passage meeting up with Beta they proceeded towards the fore of the ship with the Twi'lek brothers from Alpha taking point again, the heavier weapons of Beta taking center position.

OOC:

872 words

“Gorma for you, sir,” the communications mate said over her shoulder, and Wyl Trykon nodded and took a step forward into the holo-transmitter’s recording field.

Even as he did so, the deck lurched under his feet as another proton torpedo slammed into the Defiance amidships.  Instinctively, Trykon spun around, and locked eyes with his Executive Officer.  “How bad?” he barked.

“We’re fine,” Artur Phylas said curtly, and then he turned away to coordinate the damage control effort.

“Helm, fifty degree rotation along the roll axis, quick as you can, and give us a closer approach to the asteroid while you’re at it – seems we don’t have enough time to be fancy!”  As Petty Officer Drackon acknowledged the orders, Wyl turned back to the communications console, where the shimmering image of Lieutenant Gorma was still waiting.  “Yes, sir?”

“Trick, get in as close to the base as you can, and hit them.  We’re starting the capture operations.”

“Aye sir,” Wyl replied, already considering how to maximize a strike while still getting his ship out of harm’s way.  The Falleen officer saluted, and faded from view, and Wyl jogged the few paces to the Weapons station.  “Zark, new orders,” Wyl said, clasping the well-muscled shoulder of his Trandoshan Weapons Coordinator.  “All batteries with line-of-sight to the base are to hit targets of opportunity as we make our pass.”

“And what of the fightersss?” the reptilian being asked.

“Lower priority,” Wyl said, shaking his head.  “Keep them busy with everything we’ve got that’s not facing the asteroid.”

Zark grunted with distaste, and then began the business of relaying the command to his gunners spread throughout the ship.  Wyl turned away toward the Helm station, just as Drackon began the slingshot maneuver.

The asteroid was not enormous; its gravitational pull was middling, at best.  But it was massive enough to slightly accelerate the corvette as it approached, which gave the vessel enough speed to momentarily outpace the New Republic starfighters.  There was a brief respite from the firestorm of ion blasts and torpedoes, and during the lull the Defiance passed directly over the pirate base on the asteroid’s surface.  The bridge grew quiet, which seemed strange after the din of the past minutes.  “Mr. Zark,” Wyl said, “you’re clear to fire.”

Trykon hadn’t even finished uttering the word “clear” before the eager Defiance gunners executed his order: as the corvette flew its parabolic course around the asteroid, its dorsal, starboard side faced the pirate base far below, and four concussion missile launchers and all three suitably-oriented turbolaser batteries lashed out at once, concentrating their fury on the immobile buildings, so defenseless in comparison to the nimble, shielded B-wings the gunners had been hunting for the majority of the battle.  As the corvette pulled away from the asteroid, the volley slammed into the base, blowing the command center to bits and shredding the few light vehicles mobilizing to resist the Vast Imperial landing.  A ragged cheer went up from the bridge crew as the shots found their targets, but Wyl’s eyes were on the numbers on the sensors station displays.  As the celebratory noises died down, the B-wings entered weapons range again.  “Signal Gorma and tell him we’ve hit them,” Wyl ordered.  “Then get ready to jump to hyperspace.”

Phylas spun around.  “We are leaving, then?”  His executive officer’s expression was a mask, but Wyl thought he could see relief in his friend’s eyes.

“If we can even make it to safe distance before they blow us up, then yes, we’re leaving,” Wyl said, glancing away in shame.  Slowly, he moved back to the sensors station, bracing himself for what the tactical displays might show, and silently praying that somehow, he wouldn’t have to give the order he hadn't once given since his exile: the order to retreat.

OOC:

634 words.  Defiance took out most of the landspeeders and artillery pieces, as well as a lot of the control apparatus, as shown in the top, central area of Slasher's diagram.  Should ease the landings a bit.  On the other hand, without some fighter support, we're ill-matched against the B-wings, and will have to withdraw from battle as soon as possible.

The B-Wings were fighting the Defiance, and The Reprisals.  When the Reaper moved into range they fired a series of ion blasts followed by a series of lasers blasts. They struck one B-wing and the ship shuttered but was still intact.

“Lock on target and fire two missiles, at that B-wing.”  Arthur ordered.

“Target locked and missiles away.” Harth responded.

The missiles left the bay and sped towards the B-wing and smashed into the wing, causing the ship to spin out of control.  The B-wing was lucky as it just missed its wing mate.  It was heading right for of The Reprisals when out of nowhere a missile from the Defiance hit it and forced the ship away from the Avenger and causing a casting failure within the ship destroying it, and saving the Reprisal member.

The Reaper targeted the next B-wing, and began to fire at it.  The B-wing spun and flipped doing whatever it took to prevent getting shot down.  It fired a burst at the Reaper melting away what little shields it had left.

“Damage report now.”  Arthur ordered.

“We have lost the shields and a few minor breaches, all of which are being sealed.”

~~~Reaper Shield Generator room~~~

Jason ran into the room and began to pull cables trying to restore the power.  He activated the droids to assist him; the three mouse droids went into the different channels and began diverting the power from the nonessential parts of the ship. A R5 and R4 unit moved to the counsels on either side of the generators trying to boost the power output.

Jason was rewiring the whole system when an overload destroyed one of the mouse droids.  Jason quickly stopped and activated another mouse droid.  It came rushing in the room and took over where the other one was fried.  The droids were able to get the power back up and running before Jason had the time to finish rewiring the system.

He grabbed the last cable and was moving over to the port when a series of lasers slammed into the Reaper causing the ship to jerk.  The sudden jerk caused Jason’s’ legs to come out from under him resulting in his head slamming against the nearby console.  The R4 unit alerted the medical staff about his injury they arrived at the shield generator and brought him to the med-bay.  Rufus one of his engineers came rushing in and took over the rewiring.

~~~Med-Bay~~~

When Jason Womack was rushed into the med-lab Petty Officer 1st Class Hanna Chambers the Chief Medical Officer rushed over to him to find out what the injuries were exactly.

“He appears to have taken a blow to the head and received a small electrical charge, with the burns to match.  We need to get these fully treated, lucky for him his heart was not stopped by the charge.”  Hanna said, “Drop him in one of the tubes for ten minutes that should fix him up.”

They began placing him into the tube when the next barrage hit them.  They braced the Chief Engineer and when the blast wave stopped shaking they placed him in the tube and hooked him in and then turned it on.

OOC:

535 words something small

Harren pulled sharply on the throttle as he avoided the debris of the former B-wing.  The battle was going considerably better than it had been before. The steady support of the heavy gunships was wearing on the B-wings and with all the pressure stacked against them, they were slowly being picked apart the instant they slipped up.

“Nice one, Two!” Talva said, doing a fancy roll to avoid the wreckage. “Let’s see some fireworks!”

Shifting his sights, Harren was already tailing another bomber. “Come on, Talva! Get your head in the game!”

He heard her mutter something about how far into it her head already was. Harren twisted and fired his lasers at the bomber he was chasing. Green bolts grazed it’s engines but the B-wing dodged out of the way. Talva’una swept up underneath, catching the evading bomber.  It began to chafe between the two Reprisal fighters.  The B-wing was struggling to keep out of their collective range.

The two of them had a system going on. Talva’una would linger behind and provided cover as Harren found a target and engaged it. Then they would tag team their victim, pinning him between their turbolaser.

“Alright, move in. We have him now!”

“Oh, now I– ahh!” Talva’una was cut off as her fighter shuttered under a direct hit. Another B-wing was shooting straight at her. She swore and pulled off of her course, engaging in a number of impressive evasive maneuvers.

“Talva!” Harren cursed under his breath as the B-wing he was after made a clean getaway. His eyes darted between his two options.

Yanking his throttle hard right, he pointed at the newcomer. “Talva! Hang on!”  Talva’una was firing insults at the B-wing as she tried to maneuver unsuccessfully to gain the upper hand. Harren skirted about the conflict until he could find an opening.  He kept an eye on the red blip on his display that indicated his previous target. It appeared to be coming back around to help finish them off.

Harren flew over to gain a better position for his window of opportunity. Talva’s fighter sped his was, underside exposed as she tried to pull away from her attacker. Dipping down, he quickly pulled up again and had the B-wing directly in his sights as it followed Talva’s path. Eyes narrowing determinedly, he squeezed the trigger, firing a volley of green light at the exposed underside of the bomber.  Already in motion, it rolled out of the way with difficulty. However, at the direct angle that Harren was coming at it from, it was easy for him to keep him under his fire.

Seconds later the ship’s shields burst and Harren’s green lasers pummeled the ship. It sputtered and its engines died, leaving no sign of life in the ship. It continued to drift off in the direction it was going before. Letting up the fire, he flipped out and away from the ship.

“What the frak! Kill it, Two!” Talva spat over the com. Harren frowned at the tone in her voice. “Erm, Sir.”

He knew Talav’una. She was fiercely loyal to the Vast Emprie. Not that he in any way condoned her for it. It simply didn’t help that she saw things only in black and white. “Talva, I don’t need–“

“Watch out!”

Harren responded quickly by rolling to the left. No matter what the case, if you were looking to not get shot, one of the best evasive maneuvers was the barrel roll. It had saved his life countless times before.

A bright light flashed by his viewport as he did this. Looking back, he saw that the bomber he had gone after before was now trying to blow him out of space.  He was about to turn back and go after the bomber when his console started to beep angrily at him. He almost choked as the realization of what had just happened hit him.

The bright light that he had so narrowly missed was now coming back at him. Missle.

Harren swore.

OOC:

Sorry, this I'm not done with this post yet. I'll wrap it up later, I just wanted to get it up.
WC: 672

((aboard SCRW Einarr's Interceptor))

The force of momentum carried the large b-12 transport the flight had been covering slowly around the asteroid giving Einarr's flight a clear view of the B-wings still fighting the remains of Reprisal squadron. Einarr opened comms to his flight lead "Sir, permission to engage at long range?"

Flight lead Daisho replied with a touch of sarcasm "sure mister fishy if you think you can get them from here go ahead"

A grim bubbling chuckle was the only reply causing the Lead to allow a look of worry to cross his face. Einarr rolled his Interceptor over towards the hull of the B-12 and engaged his repulsor field to hold his tiny craft in sync with the larger bulk of the transport and removed his datapad from a pocket.

"This is not a camp out dragoon, get back in the flight." Daisho called anger seeping into his usually jovial tone.

"Sir, I can get them from here, please be patient" the comm line grew static filled as Einarr began adjusting switches and settings inside his cockpit causing the power inversion ratio in his lasers main lines to boost as loss began to build in the resonators.

"did he just hang up on me? Just who does that squid think he is?" Daisho said forgetting to turn off his comm.

Einarr selected a MG7-A proton torpedo from his missile inventory and prepped it into the launcher, tampering with some of the default settings in its base. He launched it and watched as it carried a few hundred meters from his craft and began pulsing with a steady green glow. He then adjusted the lenses on his 4 lasers and linking them he targeted the rear of his torpedo. Transmitting a code to the torpedo which was slowly growing larger and more vigorous in its pulsing the small engines on the warhead adjusted its angle to lead on a b-wing in the distance which was beginning to line up on a Reprisal fighter. the resonators inside his lasers began to pulse in tune with the proton torpedo as Einarr made a few adjustments.

Einarr sent the release code which caused the torpedo to streak off towards the b-wing well beyond normal range, he waited the few milliseconds the lasers needed to hit optimal power level, the temperature in his cockpit as well as the shield strength dropping slowly before a green light began to blaze on his instrument panel. He pulled the firing toggle and let loose 4 crimson beams from his lasers, the beams seeming to stretch and pulse as the blazed towards the speeding torpedo. The quad blasts struck the torpedo square in the rear igniting the now dead engines and detonating the fissionable material which was the torpedo's payload in a brilliant blast, the pulsing frequency of both the lasers and the warhead itself syncing and carrying the energy forward in a single wide thin blade of coherent light, it caught micro-meteors and stray gasses causing a minor cloud of charged ionized gas to be created and pushed ahead of the blast. The b-wing barely had time to notice the flare as the speed of light propagation caught up to his craft, the charge ionic wave caught up overloading the ionic capacity of his craft. Fortunately the pilot did not have time to consider the chance of dieing from exposure or lack of air as the blade of light sliced his craft clean just below the cockpit. The force of it shattered his tiny craft and streaked onward narrowly missing the pursued interceptor.

Einarr checked his readouts, he had burned out 2 of the resonators and was down to 30% fuel. All four of his lasers lenses were burned, one of which was burned to the point of being disabled, the other 3 damaged to the point of low accuracy at even close range. He would not likely survive another dogfight with even a Y-tie much less a B-wing.

"Flight Lead, this is K-3. I have neutralized 1 enemy fighter but am down to 30% fuel and have damaged my main armament. Please put me on report for Insubordination and damaging imperial equipment." Einarr said once the static had quieted, his voice calm despite his fears of what his superior would do to him for damaging his craft.

"Report hell son. How did you pull that off? On second thought tell me later, I don't need a headache right now. Put it in your report. Stay close and if you run out we will have one of the big boys bring you in once we got superiority settled."

Einarr nodded once in his cold cockpit, the life support having not quite caught back up, before realizing he could not be seen in the stark uniformity of his cockpit. "Yes sir. I understand and obey" He shunted power from his lasers to the shields and ion engines as he rejoined his squad mates.

((Onboard the Life Wire))

Seargent Jacobs hefted his rifle as his squad began advancing toward the cockpit. The twi'lek brothers taking the lead as was their style, no sense trying to keep them back they'd just get selective hearing like they usually do when they get an order they disagree with he thought to himself with a shake of his helmeted head. He watched the heavy weapons of beta in front of him, the massive men steadily progressing despite the extra weight of their weapons and ammunition. A pair of shots slammed into the ceiling of the corridor as a voice called out "not one step further imperial pigs. We will not let you take our bacta!"

PFC Romek'ti crouched and brought the rifle up, the targeting feed from his rifle allowing him to scope in as he fired a blast down the corridor. He changed positions taking cover behind a bulkhead as an abbreviated scream confirmed the shot. The Heavy gunners dropped to prone Simmons sending a burst of rippling suppression fire from the SAW as Roman readied an ammo cartridge. Simmons could be heard happily humming the tune of a bawdy pub song as he sprayed rounds downrange. The squad took cover positions well out of the Surf and turfs firing arc and began looking for targets.

OOC:

1043 words.

Slasher paced slowly around the command deck of the Fearless the battle was going well, but it was taking far to long. Despite the impressive number of enemy vessels which had been present, far more than had been expected, there was still absolutely no reason that ships and crews as highly trained as those which comprised Task Force Besh could not have taken them out easily more than twenty minutes earlier in the confrontation, now many of the fighters were nearing the limits of their fuel, and this would require a short period of time in which there was no fighter cover for the larger ships in the Task Force such as the Fearless, he would need to make a move, and quickly, if there was going to be any hope of preventing a short window in which enemy ships could flee the system relatively safely. Coming to a decision he turns to his flight control officer, the one responsible for coordinating the use of fighters during the combat.

"Master Chief, begin rotating fighters back in to refuel, have the remaining fighters of the 24th Squadron dock first, then the other squadrons in such an order that we attempt to keep maximum combat strength out at all times." The Petty Officer nods, "Aye sir, trying to prevent an escape gap?" Nodding Slasher turns back to issue orders to the rest of the crew, moving forward toward the crew pits he nods to his first officer, "Captain's Ship." The officer snaps off a quick salute, "Aye Captain, your bridge." Turning to look out the primary viewport into the battle raging outside, the Falleen 1st Lieutenant begins to issue orders fast, not waiting for acknowledgements, trusting that the training of his crew will see that the orders get carried out. "Helm, bring us in closer to that lane that the various freighters are using to attempt to escape." "Tractor Control, you are free to begin seizing targets of opportunity and begin bringing them aboard, the Boarding Marines will be standing by to begin capturing crews for interrogation." "Communications, order all ships to move in, I want any bacta down there captured intact, and as many ships captured as possible. But other than that, I want that place leveled." Slasher is turning toward another station, having made his way to the back of the bridge again in his pacing when he sees something out of the corner of his eye and has just enough time to scream, "BRACE FOR IMPACT AND DECOMPRESSION, ALL BRIDGE CREW, BRACE!!!!!!" No sooner were the words out of his mouth and he had grabbed hold of the console beside him than the entire forward portion of the bridge caved in, all those in the forward area of the bridge, and in the crew pit, died immediately.

==Bridge of the Defiance==

Trykon watches in shock as the entire command tower of the Fearless is engulfed in flames as the explosives on board the freighter that had just rammed itself into the command deck of the vessel exploded. While he is in shock, he moves quickly, ordering his communications officer to open a channel to the rest of the Task Force.

"Th... This is Warr... Warrant Officer Trykon, the Fearless has been severely damaged, the Task Force Commander is probably dead, under the orders of 1st Lieutenant Slasher, making me Task Force Executive Officer following the battle of Belgorath Shipyards, I am now taking command of this Task Force, the Fearless appears to still be fighting, but the head has been cut off, I'm not sure how much longer she'll be able to hold, we must complete this mission while we have the chance, all units are now under my direct command."

==Bridge of the Fearless==

Looking around him as he comes around from momentarily blacking out Slasher yells out over the sound of the air rushing out of the badly damaged command deck, "IS ANYBODY ELSE ALIVE? ANYONE ALIVE, REPORT!" he hears an answering yell from across the compartment, "EVERYONE EXCEPT OURSELVES AND SENIOR CREWMAN ECHELON ARE DEAD CAPTAIN, I'VE GOTTEN ECHELON BELOW SEVERAL DECKS TO A MEDICAL TEAM, WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE THAT SHIP BLOWS, IT LOOKS LIKE IT IS RIGGED TO BLOW." deciding that now is not the time to ask the Rodian how he knows this, Slasher simply follows Cevdis over to the lift, which miraculously is still working, and descends several decks before the car rocks from an explosion above, and loses power, stalling between two decks.

OOC:

754 Words,

Ok, so obviously Slasher is going to be out of communication for a while, and the Fearless has been damaged, (I just wanted an excuse to remodel the bridge before the next mission) Slasher will be out of Communication with the rest of the fleet until he can get to the auxiliary command center and transfer command to there with his authorization codes, this is going to mean that essentially the entire ship is stuck on the last set of orders he gave it, use this to your advantage, be creative, but most of all, have fun.

“That’s it, sir – they’re running!”

Wyl Trykon craned his head around at the shout, and jogged aft to the Sensors station.  “Bring up a tactical plot of the battle area, Mr. Notra, centered on the Fearless.”

The Twi’lek officer’s hands danced across his station’s dials, switches, keys, and screens, and a holographic representation of the battlefield shimmered into existence.  A satisfied smile came unbidden to Wyl’s face as he took in the situation, which he flashed happily at his Executive Officer Artur Phylas when the man came up to stand beside him.

Phylas smiled back.  “Told you it would work, Trick.”

As his old friend spoke, an intense feeling of dread suddenly fell over Wyl, and all his initial doubts came rushing back to him.  His smile curdled, and he turned back to the tactical map.  Everything still looked good: Vast Imperial troops had been landed on the pirate base, the majority of the criminals’ freighters and transports had been successfully penned in and boarding operations were underway, and the Fearless was fighting strong from the center, recovering TIEs to rearm and refuel even while maneuvering to intercept a fleeing Bacta transport.  A fleeing Bacta transport, Wyl thought, watching the image intently, which is on a collision course!  “No,” Wyl said softly.

Notra and Phylas both turned to look at their captain.  “What?” they asked in unison.

The small pirate vessel wasn’t fleeing.  Wyl’s stomach lurched as the little transport accelerated, and then careened headlong into the Fearless’s bridge tower.  The Imperial frigate was obscured momentarily as a tremendous explosion flared, much bigger and much brighter than would be expected in a deep-space ramming action.

“Emperor’s bones…” Artur Phylas murmured.

Kath Notra simply stared blankly at his displays, his mouth agape.

“A fire ship…” Wyl said quietly.  He rubbed at his temple, forcing himself to think.  “Mr. Norith, give me an audio connection to the entire Task Force, if you please.”

“Channel open, sir.”

Wyl took a deep breath.  “Th…  This is Warr-Warrant Officer Trykon,” he began, shaking his head slightly and making a more concerted effort to keep his voice from wavering.  “The Fearless has been severely damaged, and the Task Force Commander is probably dead.”  He let the statement hang for a spit second, letting the truth of it sink in, for himself as much as for the others.  “Under the orders of First Lieutenant Slasher, which made me Task Force XO after Belgorath, I am now taking command of this Task Force.  The Fearless appears to still be in the fight, but without a functioning bridge I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be able to hold together.  All units are now under my direct command; we must complete this mission while we have the chance.  Stand by for new orders.”

Wyl shook his head, and Norith cut the transmission.  “Helm, move us into a geosynchronous orbit above the base on that asteroid, and orient the ship so as many of our weapons systems are facing the surface installations as possible.  Comms, Sensors, Weapons, eyes on me.”

As Lerak Drackon muscled the corvette back toward the pirate base, Phylas, Norith, Notra, and Zark watched intently as Wyl began designating targets on the tactical display.

“This has gone far enough,” Wyl said grimly.  “Mr. Norith, as I name targets you’ll relay my orders to the relevant elements of the Task Force, and then you will command the groundside hostiles to surrender to our forces or they will be destroyed from orbit, Bacta and all.”  The human Communications Officer blanched, but he nodded, and Wyl turned to the holomap.  “Remnants of the Second Group are to complete any boarding actions already underway, and then rendezvous with Defiance.  These villainous fringe-flyers are targeting command-and-control vessels, so we may need some extra firepower to deal with more surprises.  Main Group fighters are to form a perimeter around the Fearless, and attempt contact.  If the damage was limited to the bridge and we can establish communications with the hangars, flight operations are to continue, otherwise…”  He let his voice trail off.  “Let’s deal with ‘otherwise’ if and only if we need to.  Main Group capital ships are to go hunting: I want them away from Fearless if she blows, and we still need to capture as much of the pirate fleet as possible.”  As Norith relayed the orders, Wyl turned to Zark.  “It’s not an idle threat I’m making: prep a firing solution that will destroy the base.”

“Our troops…” Kath Notra said.

“The Bacta?” asked Art Phylas.

“We will get both,” Wyl promised.  “And then we’ll glass the whole damn rock.”

OOC:

767 words.  Well that was unexpected.  To be clear, orders are:
1.  Main Group capital ships besides Fearless are to pursue and detain pirate freighters.
2.  Fearless and her fighters are going to be relaying comms back and forth between each other and Defiance until central communications are restored aboard the Imperial-II frigate.  Lots of opportunities for heroism/cowardice/pragmatism (in other words, character development) there, with a ship that might explode any minute that is still full of Imperial Navy personnel, AND full of badly-needed starfighter support for the end of this battle.
3.  Everybody in Second Group and/or near Defiance is going to try to intimidate the pirate ground forces.  They'll either surrender, fall to our marines, or we'll withdraw our troops and wipe them out from orbit.  Trick is done with the Battle of Coveway: he wants a victory quickly, or he's using his authority to simply end the pirates and withdraw with the Bacta unsecured, in order to demand some answers from Naval Intelligence.