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Topic:  VEN: Out of the Invisible
Ryn
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Ryn
 
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 2nd Class
 
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 14, 2012 10:54:39 AM    View the profile of Ryn 
The cockpit roasted as Ryn twisted the controls too close to the giant engine of an Imperial Dominion destroyer. She had lost track of their names, and struggled to keep her own name straight. She knew at some point in the battle she had heard that Ryuno and Maroy had lost shields and were disengaging  from the main fighting, now she saw them both forming up with Scral and fighting like their ships were brand new. Her memory was starting to play tricks on her, the very reality around her seemed off. Last time she checked, Scral was grounded for accidentally shooting down their unfit XO not to mention he almost wasn't allowed back in the elite squadron after his sudden absence. Regardless of the circumstances she wasn't sure why he was suddenly assuming command as XO, or giving orders since the squadron commander was alive and well spinning just in front of Ryn's viewport. Sayree must have been kicking herself for allowing Dyr'Jin to return to the squadron in the first place.

Sayree Kazhos was a woman of few words, which was probably due to her years as a slaver. Ryn couldn't imagine anyone coming back from a job like that with their conscious intact. The woman was insane and had led her squadron to ruin. From the moment they hit the battlefield the squadron had dispersed. Sometimes it was orders that were different for the flights, sometimes it was just serendipity that pulled them apart. Ryn had tried her hardest to keep the Zygerrian and Ryuno with her throughout the fight. Now orders from someone claiming to be in charge were being followed by a group of terrified and tired young men and women who just wanted to go home.

Ryn was tired too. Her body was soaked with sweat under her suit  and her nerves were shot. The glint from the far away stars caused her muscles to twitch and react as if she had been shot at by a turbolaser. Her squadron commander moved amidst a sea of enemies in a blur of motion that was taking all of Ryn's energy reserves just to follow. They were surrounded, with no hope of assistance. The squadron abandoned them, and that was something Ryn would never forget.

“Ryn you need to get clear, turn to vector 469 and punch it back to Atrus.”

She glared at the private comm and Hades voice. He had already regrouped, which she understood because he had been originally in the Besh flight. Ryuno she had ordered back to the Atrus several times during the battle due to her damages, Ryn was almost glad the pilot finally listened to someone. The lack of leadership in the squadron was palpable and frightening to the young woman. 

“I'm with my wingman, and she hasn't ordered me to do anything of the sort.”

Hades growled into the comm, probably attempting to speak while avoiding the crossfire from the Atrus. “Dammit Ryn, that insane woman is going to get you killed.”

“No, that insane woman has zero skill at keeping a squadron together, but she is where she should be.” Bombers exited an enemy hanger drawing the Zygerrian's salivating gaze and giving Ryn enough time to form up with Aurek 1.

“That witch is not even responding to comms, it's time to go.”

The fear in her friends voice was obvious, even in her stressed out state. She wanted him to be safe as much as he wanted the same for her. They had plans to enjoy a tall glass of whiskey with a long cigar at the end of the hangar when the battle was over. They would toast to living another day and watch the debris fly by. It would have been a good time.

“She is my wingman, and my squadron commander. If it was you, I would never leave you and you know it. Also, I'm not in the mood to run and hide in a hanger just yet. Make sure Ryuno is safe, I'll see you later.” The comm clicked off and Ryn turned her eyes towards the bombers which Sayree had already engaged.

There were only three of them, it seemed that the dominion was already running short on able fighters, or pilots.

“You should go.”

Ryn frowned she had to think or several minutes and visually confirm the comm signal before she processed who it was talking to her. The heat was getting worse, she must have lost her temperature regulator on one of the thousand passes too close to the star destroyer.

“Commander?”

“Shut up. Stay or go, but don't expect a damn medal for either.”

The comm clicked off again and they were ass deep in bombers again. The battle looked hopeless. More and more fighters were going dark on the nav screen and Ryn felt dizzy from a combination of dehydration and nerves. She wanted to sleep yet her adrenalin was so hyped she was sure she would never sleep again. The bomber in her sights exploded in a cloud of sparkles and the rest of the battle seemed to slow before her eyes.

The fighters turned into birds and the bolts into insects. The star destroyers and other vessels became trees in a forest and Ryn was walking among them touching the dew on the leaves. Somewhere in the distance a Vornskr barked and howled at the moon.

Ryn walked slowly down the trodden path towards a small beam of light from above. It broke through the canopy and rained down light on a stout figure in a clearing. There was more noise now, almost as if the insects were screaming in her ears. The air seemed to become thicker as she approached and it was hard to move her legs. The four legged beast turned its head but continued to chew on its food. She recognized the creature from her childhood picture books as a nerf, although Ryn had never been this close to a real one and she became grateful for that mercy when the smell hit her nostrils.

“What are you doing here?”

The beast raised an eyebrow. “Eating, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be doing something right now?”

Ryn stepped back. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk!”

The nerf swatted its tail to get the insects off its back then returned its attention to the young woman disturbing its meal. “You tell me.”

Ryn looked at her hands to find them grasping the air the same way she would have been holding the controls of her TIE interceptor.

“Am I dead?” Her eyes flashed up in horror. “Oh Gods am I stuck here with a talking nerf for eternity?”

The nerf chewed his cut for several silent moments. “You aren't exactly my choice as an after-life partner either sweetheart.”

She started to pace as the insects continued to get louder and more numerous. She had to squint and swat to keep them from flying in her eyes, nose and mouth. The forest was dense beyond the small clearing she stood in with her new friend. There was something she was supposed to be doing though, and she couldn't put her finger on what that was anymore.

She looked down and her hands had clenched as if she was holding fighter controls yet again. There was a cool morning breeze yet her face and body was dripping with sweat. Her eyes were stinging from the salty droplets she couldn't seem to reach to brush aside.

“Its time to go Ryn.”

She turned towards the nerf, whose voice now sounded like the Zygerrian. The beast's eyes looked large and pleading as it stared at the pilot. That's what she was, a pilot.

Ryn suddenly realized that the forest was turning black from all the insects, they seemed to have multiplied both in size and number over the short amount of time she had stood there. The sound was getting so loud she had to cover her ears but couldn't seem to take her hands off the phantom controls.

“Stay with me Ryn.”

This time the nerf's lips didn't move, and the voice was Sayree she was sure of it. Ryn's vision blurred and she could almost see the outline of Abrae covered in fire from the battle. There was a calmness to the vision, and it washed over her as she felt her body return to the tiny cockpit and the metallic noise of the fight.

She looked down at her position, which wasn't all that far from where she was before. Only difference was that now she was flying away from her allies and directly into a squadron of imperial dominion interceptors. The battle hadn't changed one bit during her mental hiatus, they were still losing and she was still essentially alone.

Kazhos was still alive, somehow, and they were completely cut off from the rest of their fleet now. Ryn's shields were failing and her fuel cells were screaming for mercy. The stabilizers must have also taken a hit since her controls were shaking so hard she could no longer feel her fingers. They had been engaged in non-stop fighting for more hours that she could remember. Her mind was fleeing from the thought of more death in cold space above Abrae.

There was only one thing left to do, complete the mission. They had been sent into the fray to destroy ships, and that was what Ryn was going to do. Her eyes fell on the closest star destroyer. She didn't care  what its name or purpose was, just that it belonged to the Imperial Dominion and it was close. The ships around her rained down their fire against her bruised shields but she didn't care anymore, the only thing that mattered to her was to get close enough to take the star destroyer with her. Her mind frantically made up a plan to slam her now useless ship into the shield generators than any hit would destroy the rest of the vessel. She could make that happen and this thing they were doing wouldn't be as pointless as it felt to her at that moment.

Ryn could hear voices screaming in her ears, she wasn't sure if they were real or not anymore and she didn't care. She didn't even bother to check if the comm was on or off she just focused on her purpose. The star destroyer had its own survival instinct though, it shifted its large guns directly at the lone fighter. She became suddenly aware that the Zygerrian was no longer in her viewport, for the first time in hours. Sayree Kazhos was a surviver whether she liked it or not. The Zygerrian would survive the battle and ream someone a new ass on the Atrus. Ryn wouldn't be there, she would be spread out in small atoms all over the orbit of Abrae.

She was okay with her fate now, it didn't bother her. In her mind she went to that hanger with Hades and smoked her cigar while she sipped her whiskey. She toasted the battle just as the turboblast hit the belly of her interceptor and erupted the cockpit with light. For the first time in what felt like weeks all Ryn heard was the sweet sound of silence.












"GODS DAMMIT PILOT!"

The voice ripped through her serenity like a knife through her temples. Ryn's ears ran as her body was pounded into her chair as the gravity in the cockpit struggled to keep its hold on her. The TIE spiralled out of control through the battlefield leaving the young woman to wonder how in the seven hells she had survived a turbolaser blast.

The answer was the Zygerrian slaver that had shot her instead, of course. The squadron commander had barely paused in her continued barbaric fight against the Imperial Dominion, yet she did take the time to fire a blast from her guns at the strongest point left on Ryn's shields. The TIE wasn't going to fly anymore, but she did have time to eject. If she could pull the controls before she threw up in her helmet.

Her hands fumbled for the controls and with the last of her strength she pulled. The canopy shot off sending a suction of air which both grabbed at her body with its icy hands and slammed her back into the chair. Then she felt the eject thrusters fire and she shot off into space.

Ryn was out of the fight but she was still breathing, the only question left was which evac shuttle was going to reach her first. The Vast Empire or the Imperial Dominion. The dreams of a future prisoner or pilot lifted her up and took her to sleep.
                                                                                                                                                                               

OOC:


Word Count: 1903-ish

AAR: Ryn is overwhelmed by the battle, refuses to regroup and is shot down behind enemy lines. She may live, but if she does she will be in medbay for a good long while, not sure if that will be VE medbay or ID medbay though.

As for my comments about Scral:
Deepsix post 3/3/12 wrote:: “To make matters worse Qorbin agreed with Sayree's decision to bring back Dyr'Jin into active service. This was a decision he was not comfortable with given the other man's questionable mental health but he figured it couldn't be all that bad. On one hand he was giving some leeway to his newly appointed Squadron Commander. On the other hand if Scral would prove unfit for duty then the coming shitstorm would take care of him sure enough.”

btw, insane while still having the post within the storyline = priceless.



edited: not dead....yet.
FM/PO2 Kathryn 'Ryn' Kerdi/A-3/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:58 "Javelin"/SSD Atrus/TF:Aurek/1FLT/SFC/VEN/VE
{VM} [MC2] [MiD] [MC1] [CBV]
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[This message has been edited by Ryn (edited June 17, 2012 2:38:12 PM)]
Trykon
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Trykon
 
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 15, 2012 10:35:10 AM    View the profile of Trykon 
“Report!” Trykon barked.

Michelle Blondeau, his Executive Officer, grimaced.  “That last missile barrage gutted us,” she said softly, her wide eyes flicking back and forth between the scrolling list of damaged systems and her captain’s frowning face.  “Breaches all along the ventral hull.  We’ve reestablished shields, but they won’t hold against anything stronger than a TIE’s laser canons.”  She looked even more shocked for a moment as she read another notification, and then continued: “Engine room reports complete loss of power.”  She turned to face Trykon again.  “We’re dead in space.”

The Kuati ship captain cursed quietly in the language of his home planet.  “Status of our starfighter contingent?”

Blondeau keyed a command into the console, and absently began to shake her head.  “Shock is at half strength, and Awe Squadron is even worse: only one flight left.  Smash... the bombers are all gone.”

“Recall everyone,” Trykon said.  “We need whatever cover we can get.  Declare emergency, all VE channels; see if we can get other friendly fighters over here.  And use the emergency thrusters to roll the ship; we have to orient ourselves so the ventral surfaces are facing the Loyalty!”

“Aye sir,” Blondeau intoned, and she jogged back to coordinate the bridge crew.

Trykon turned to look out the viewports again, lost in his thoughts.  With the fighter wing cut to pieces, he could no longer project force into the battle from afar.  With her engines cut off from power, Surprise itself was effectively out of the fight.  And with failing shields and multiple hull breaches, the Strike-class cruiser was vulnerable to the kind of catastrophic structural failure that had destroyed her sister ship Success during their last joint cruise.  I can’t protect my people with no shields, no engines, and no fighters, he thought grimly.  Slowly, the inescapable conclusion formed in his mind.

“Damn,” he muttered with a little sigh.  Then he drew himself up to his full height, and spun on his heel.  Across the room, his dutiful XO saw the movement and came to his side.

“Sir?” she asked.

“Have someone go to my quarters and retrieve my flight suit, Ms. Blondeau,” Trykon said gravely.

She hesitated.  “Sir... your place is on the bridge, not in a cockpit.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” he nodded, “but fate has other designs.”

“Sir?”

“We have to abandon ship, Ellie,” he whispered, dropping formality in a conscious effort to shock her into action.  “Have someone fetch my flight suit so I can take my fighter out the bow hangar.”

Blondeau seemed to shrink as understanding came.  She nodded sadly.  “Yessir.”

Trykon forced himself to smile, though he knew the expression wasn’t convincing.  As his XO walked off to ask a Crewman to get his flight suit, Trykon squared his shoulders, marched to the back of the bridge, and cleared his throat.  His department heads looked up, and five sets of eyes – four sets of two and one set of three – focused on him.  They looked optimistic, as if they expected some miracle order that would make everything okay.  Wyl frowned, and then disappointed them all: “Prepare to evacuate all personnel to the Loyalty and the nearest Golan station.  We’re abandoning Surprise.”

OOC:
534 words.

AAR: One last missile barrage rips holes in the bottom of Surprise.  Faced with engine failure, shield collapse, and a lack of fighter cover, Wyl Trykon orders his crew to abandon ship.

OOC, we're gonna start evacuating (in escape pods, a couple shuttles, and me in my spiffy personal fighter), so anyone - especially pilots - with nothing better to do should feel free to come to our aid and give us cover while we get off the wreck of the Surprise!
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SCAP/LTJG Wyl Trykon/SMC Surprise/TF:B/1Flt/FC/VEN/VE
CNT/LTJG Wyl "Trick" Trykon/PLF Cappadocious/VENA/VEN/VE

[SoA][SoV][BWC][NSM][E][NAR][HNS][DSM][SWC][1NS][VC:B][LoM][VC:S][NC][GWC]/(=*AE*=)(=*SAE*=)(=*TG*=)(=*SCFE*=)

TRN/AD Trykon/DJO/VEDJ
Eli13778
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Eli13778
 
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 15, 2012 5:40:27 PM    View the profile of Eli13778 
Eli watched, astonished, as the Surprise began firing escape pods. 

Kark! They're gonna need some help, he thought as he threw his fighter full throttle. Out of the corner of his eye, Eli saw Dawn follow suit. 

"Delta 2, are we going to help them?"

"I am. If you want to tag along, feel free. Those escape craft are gonna need all the help they can get," Eli said in a stony voice. 

There were only a few pods that had launched so far, all going the same general direction, so Eli put himself near them, close enough to defend, but far away enough to keep sights on their surroundings. Twelve more Interceptors joined him, all VE according to Eli's targeting computer. 

"This is Shock Alpha 2, 1st Class Petty Officer Gren Frost. Identify yourself, pilot," called out the lead Interceptor.

"I'm Tuk'ata Delta 2, Leading Crewman Eli Long," responded the Falleen.

"Great, a rookie. Ok, Eli, I'll give you a status update. Shock Squadron has only eight fighters left, and command of it has fallen on me. Awe Squadron has only Beta flight left, and they are also following me. So what's the plan?" demanded Gren.

"Why are you asking me?" shot back Eli. "You're in charge here."

"Because, at the moment, I don't have a plan."

"I'm don't really have a plan either. My suggestion is for some of us to keep an eye on the shuttles, while the rest protect what's remaining of the Surprise. We don't want any more damage falling upon her, so all crewman have a good chance of getting into an escape pod and out of here. That sound ok?"

"Well," said Gran, grimly. "That is better than anything I had. Awe Squadron, cover the shuttles! Shock Squadron, we're protecting the ship. I don't a single ID fighter getting past us! Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" called the remainder of the squadron.

Eli knew it wouldn't be that easy, though. As soon as word got out that the Surprise was evacuating, this place would be swarming with ID TIE fighters.

Eli branched off from Shock Squadron to drift over the Surprise. Patches of the hull glowed orange from where missiles and energy shots had torn through and melted the durasteel. Debris and shrapnel streamed from the surface.  More escape pods and a few shuttles continued to depart from the ship. Out of the corner of his eye, Eli saw two TIE craft. He turned to get a better look. They were TIE Bombers- Imperial Dominion Bombers if his targeting computer was correct. And they were heading straight for the Surprise's bridge. 

They're going for the captain and any remaining officers!, Eli thought urgently. A sense of helplessness fell over Eli. He was sure he could intercept the slow Bombers before they reached the bridge, but destroying them without missiles both was very unlikely. And Eli's Interceptor was out of explosives.

Then, a desperate, brilliant, and possibly verging on insane idea came to Eli's mind. I'm not out of explosives quite yet, Eli though with cynical humor. "Hey, Gren, you there?"

"Yes, Tuk 14, what do you need?"

"Get one of those shuttles to evac me after I eject." Eli turned off his comm before any questions rose. The Falleen tapped his control panels directing all power to his fuel converting electromagnet. Not many pilots knew  the inner workings of a TIE starfighter. Of course, not many pilots had worked on then half of their lives. The power of the crafts was generated by the solar plated wing panels. That raw power was fed into a compact generator that refined the energy for usage in the rest of the craft. Some of that energy powered the weapons, sensors, shields, etc. The rest went to the engine array. The TIE fighter line ran off of liquid hydrogen fuel. That fuel is energized by a powerful electromagnet to turn it into hypermatter, then thrusted out of the engines to propel the ship. The hypermatter has two distinct properties: 1. it never transfers back into realspace matter, 2. it is highly explosive.

Eli planned to use that explosiveness as a weapon. The Falleen glanced at his panels. Almost all the fuel had been converted into hypermatter. Eli  thumbed the ignition button, preparing to send the TIE Interceptor rocketing forward. He carefully line up his starfighter with the Bombers' trajectory, knowing that he only had one shot at hitting the sluggish craft. Eli hit the ejection seat and the ignition simultaneously. He was flung out of his Interceptor moments before the craft lurched forward to hit the Bombers. The Interceptor's speed was tremendous, so much so that the side panels ripped off. Yet, the pod kept going. The ID Bombers twisted to evade, but they were too bulky, and it was too late. Eli's Interceptor's pod struck the rear port side of one, and exploded, detonating the Bomber's payload. The resulting blast engulfed the second Bomber, who also gave an impressive explosion. Both Bombers had been taken care of with about sixty meters to spare before they hit the bridge.

Eli floated in the vacuum of space with only his sealed flight suit protecting him. Minutes later a shuttle picked him up. As Eli took his place in the packed craft, many passengers stared at him blankly.

"Crazy son-of-a-blaster," muttered one of the crewmen. Eli couldn't help but grin. Seconds later the grin disappeared. 

Great, Eli thought disdainfully, what the frak am I supposed to do now, with no starfighter?


OOC:

Word count: 921 

AAR: Well, a little more dramatic than I really intended. In short, Eli decides to help the vulnerable and evacuating Surprise, and ends up helping organize the remainder of the Surprise's TIE fighters. He also manages to knock out two ID TIE Bombers before they get to the Surprise's bridge (though whether he saved anyone or the move was for nothing remains to be seen).

It started out as a good idea, but got a bit dramatic. I also just wanted to find a creative way to get Eli a new TIE Interceptor. Using up all his missiles in the first post wasn't so smart.
FM/LCW/Eli "Lucky Bolts" Long/B-3/S:137 "Raptor"/W:52"Javelin"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE

When you strike your opponent do not bruise or even bloody them. Hit them so hard you take away their capacity to fight back.
[This message has been edited by Eli13778 (edited June 15, 2012 6:36:05 PM)]
DeepSix
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 16, 2012 4:20:37 PM    View the profile of DeepSix 
Although the fighting was still going strong in the Vectra System, the outcome of it was all but obvious to all those participating. The Dominion could yet surprise the Vast Empire's defenders with a few minor victories but overall the chances of it turning the tables and conquering Abrae as well as defeating the VE Navy were slim to none. The invaders had simply lost too many ships - including its flagship that now loomed silently in space, no longer firing on the other mammoth... the Atrus.

Even if that were not the case, the ID would still find itself rapidly losing fighters and bombers on all fronts. Granted the tiny vessels did not go quietly, and most of the time not very quickly either, but scanners aboard the larger ships could still tell that the Vast Empire was steadily gaining space superiority. It was only a matter of time before the Dominion's forces would be spread so thin that they would become unable to properly protect their remaining assets.

This was no longer an invasion but rather a race against time in which the ID would attempt to regroup and retreat, all the while the VE would on the contrary concentrate on obliterating this threat once and for all. In anticipation of this, Seth Qorbin led his own squadron and coordinated with the others in his care to deal as much possible damage to the enemy. The wing was particularly brutal, quickly overpowering the disheartened opposition and allowing no surrenders or survivors in general. It was as if a swarm of gundarks was making its way across the battlefield, leaving nothing but destruction in its path...

Then again of the six squadrons part of Javelin wing only five were coordinating these attacks. The sixth, Tuk'ata Squadron, had been left to deal with its own issues ever since Mihawk called upon their help. Seth could still hear bits and pieces of comm chatter coming from the lone squadron and from what he could gather things weren't great over there - casualties, an unreliable commander and a few rookies lacking the combat experience needed to calm them down and keep them focused on any single goal.

The blond Onderonian knew that he was taking a gamble with Kazhos when he gave her the position but from what little he could hear now that gamble would not apparently pay off anytime soon. Maybe in the long run things would be different but for now it certainly sounded as if choosing the former slaver as a squadron commander was a bad idea. Certain individuals would no doubt try and chew him up as a result and the frowning WC knew as much. It was perhaps part of the reason that the man tried, and for the most part succeeded, to distinguish not only himself but his entire unit as well. A tainted success was still better than a regular loss, not to mention the fact it was in fact preferable if it came to a choice between the two...

If only the remaining members of Tuk'ata squadron would manage to stay alive a bit longer. The worst was already over after all so they needed to merely hang on and wait for the ID to finally admit defeat and end the whole slaughter. The question though was... would they manage that? Would the newest additions to the squadron adjust in time to the harsh reality of actual combat? Would the few veterans be enough to lead and support the former, given that their official leader did anything except actually leading? Would providence be generous and provide the squadron with a miracle?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We're stuck here until we deal with their Interdictors, just give them hell in the meantime!" was the message an ID commander sent to the rest of his squadron. "There!" he added within a few seconds "Enemy formation on my 2 o'clock. Looks like they're trying to make a run for it... Well if we can't leave this place, neither should they. Charge!!!"

A few confirmation messages came back through the comm channel from the remaining nine members of the squadron, all of whom broke left and followed their leader to their newest targets. The latter weren't priority targets no matter how the Dominion pilots tried looking at the fleeing Interceptors. The very fact they were fleeing showed they were weak, lacking either skill or guts. It hardly mattered which exactly was the case however. As far as the ID jocks were concerned they were easy pickings, perfect to vent off some steam.

"Looks like they've noticed us, stay sharp!" the commander updated the rest of his squadron after noticing a couple of the retreating Interceptors breaking formation and turning to face them. "Must be aliens in those ships - too stupid to realize they're outnumbered or too arrogant to care. Take 'em out!"

Trying to lead by example - as he always had - the ID squadron commander led the attack, his laser cannons powering up to maximum in anticipation of the destruction they'd cause. The man never managed to shoot though as a sudden missile lock forced him to break off the attack and dive - a textbook evasive maneuver, though one that this time around failed to protect him as the closest VE Interceptor launched its payload, making short work of the attacking ID officer.

A brief exchange of laser fire occurred next, close misses and glancing blows for the most part - but those were enough to force one of the VE pilots to turn around once more and head back towards the other members of his squadron as well as the intimidating frame of the Atrus. The other VE pilot however stood behind, his attempt to provide cover fire now looking less brave and more suicidal instead. Granted the fellow flying the sleek Interceptor demonstrated some quality flying as well as decent shooting ability but faced with nine opponents at the same time those skills simply proved not good enough as a few laser bolts from different angles ripped through the solar panels, almost immediately afterward forcing the small ship to blow up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Coming in hot! Coming in hot!" Tuk'ata 13 announced as he diverted all power to engines and rear shields. The flight leader knew that although he managed to buy the rest of the squadron some time, neither they nor he were out of the woods just yet. "Emperor's black bones!" the individual swore after a quick glance at his scanners revealed that the other squadron member that accompanied him was no more. "Tuk'ata 6 is down, repeat, Tuk'ata 6 is down. No idea if he managed to eject in time", he let the other members of the squadron know in a low voice. Dora's flight leader did not particularly like Scral on a regular basis but in the man's opinion anyone who was willing to sacrifice themselves for others deserved some slack. Especially if they might no longer be alive for that matter - everyone knew it was bad manners speaking ill of the dead...
Quote:WC: 1183
AAR: Seeing how no edits were made despite member activity in the meantime, I hereby proceed with that post I announced a few days ago in the squadron channel. First part makes some vague references to the rest of Javelin Wing - coordinating amongst themselves and racking up kills. Mid part mentions Tuk'ata, though no IC interaction is provided. I'm intentionally not providing any IC orders so as to better show how the squadron is in a state of chaos, lacking any true leadership.

I'm doing this because 1. the squadron is not apparently grouped together anyway, and seeing how this is the story's finale maybe you'll all plan something on a more personal level, such as going after bombers, or providing backup for another squadron or helping out with the Surprise's evacuation or whatever else you may think of and makes sense; and 2. this IC chaos should provide some char development opportunities in the future, especially considering that after this mission the squadron's leadership will change. You'll basically have a chance to distrust authority, strive to improve as a result or generally just go "well at least it's better than that"...

Third part of the post is made from an NPC's point of view. Basically part of Tuk'ata tries retreating to the Atrus but attracts unwanted attention before succeeding. Scral and the D-1 NPC try to buy time for everyone else and the ID commander leading the attack is destroyed in the process. The NPC turn around and attempts to regroup but Scral stays behind, trying to provide further distractions to the pursuers. He gets shot down in the process. Whether he lives or not - I live that up to him. If he lives, then whether he remains stranded in space for the remaining of the mission or eventually gets picked up by a shuttle - I again leave that up to him. I only ask that he get in contact with me before attempting to post anything else involving him flying in this story in either a fighter, bomber, shuttle, gunboat, or anything similar.

WC/CWO DeepSix/A-1/S:412th Razor/W:58th Javelin/SSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE [=*TG*=]

TRN/JRN DeepSix/DJO/Training Sect/VEDJ
Eli13778
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 16, 2012 8:03:20 PM    View the profile of Eli13778 
The Y-4 Raptor's pilot was terrible. Eli knew that from the start, when she had almost hit him during the evac. But, for the time being, all Eli could do was sit on one of the hard, crowded durasteel benches, hold his flight helmet, and wait. 

"So, Falleen, what did you do on the Surprise?" asked an officer next to Eli.

What? Doesn't this guy see my flight suit? That should be a pretty clear indication that I didn't work on the ship, Eli thought with bewilderment. "I'm a pilot from Tuk'ata Squadron, Delta Flight, stationed on the Atrus. Leading Crewman, Eli Long, at your service." Eli extended a hand boldly. The Human shook it.

"Well then why the frak are you on an escape shuttle for the Surprise?" the officer frowned. Moments later, his expression cleared up. "So, Falleen, what did you do on the Surprise?"

What the foxtrot...

A crewman sitting to Eli's right nudged him. "Err... Leading Crewman, that officer is suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress syndrome. He can't remember anything over a two minute time frame. Trying to talk to him is pretty kriffing useless."

"So, Falleen, what did you do on the Surprise?" asked the Human. 

Holy fraking hell, I won't be able to take this. Eli stood up and walked over to the entrance of the cockpit, where the pilot sat. "Eh-hem, excuse me ehhh-"

"Warrant Officer 2nd Class, Kashie Tyf."

"-Kashie, can you tell me where we are going?"

"Why, hotshot? Eager to get back in the fight?" drawled the pilot.

"Uh, well, as a matter of fact, yes, yes I am."

"Yeah, well don't sweat it. We're returning to the Golan defense platform. You'll be able to get a new starfighter there."

"Returning?"

"Yeah, we were sent out when the Surprise sent out its emergency evac."

Eli glanced around the cockpit. "So, where's the co-pilot and gunner?" Cause, lady, frankly, you need them.

"You happen to meet the man in the back who has a new case of short term memory loss?"

"Yeah," chuckled Eli. "Caused by too much stress, right? A charming fellow."

"Well, then you met the co-pilot. Our gunner died before the evac."

Well, now I know how he got that way, Eli thought, sadistically. 

Suddenly, shots hit the brow. "Frak!" yelled the pilot. A TIE Interceptor flew over the cockpit. 

Eli rushed into the passenger hold. "Anyone here who is a shuttle pilot?" he shouted at the crowd. An awfully young Twi'lek stood up.

"Well, sir, I'm currently training to become o-"

"Get into the cockpit, now!" roared Eli, cutting the being off. Wide-eyed, the Twi'lek scampered to the from of the Y-4 Raptor. 

The door to the cockpit slid open and the pilot whirled around in her seat, as to more laser bolts hit the starboard side. "Who's this joker?" she yelled over the shots. 

"He's a trainee shuttle pilot!" Eli roared as the pilot nailed an Interceptor with her chin mounted laser cannons. 

"Ok, good! Twi'lek, get in the far left chair! That's the co-pilot's seat! And you, suicidal TIE pilot, get in the middle chair! That's the gunner's spot! And hold on!" yelled the woman. Then, she whipped the Raptor around, and threw it forward full throttle, out of the contingent of TIEs. She turned to Eli, reached up, and pulled a half-circle shaped helmet over his head. Suddenly, Eli saw everything outside of the ship in a holographic-style grid. "So," started the pilot, "that is a 3-D 360 degree HUD helmet. The seat you are sitting in also swivels 360 degrees. You have two joysticks in front of you. If you turn them left you swivel left, same for the right side. Look up or down and you will... Well you get the point. The right joystick controls the dual laser turret, located on the top of the craft, so it's range is limited. The left joystick controls the chin concussion missile tube that has a magazine of twelve missiles. To lock on a target, you look at it and press the top button. To fire press the side button."

"This is pretty advanced," Eli said, looking around.

"Well, you know the VE policy. We invest in our ships and tech. Any questions?"

"No, I think I have it down," Eli boasted. The Twi'lek only managed a jerking motion with his head that Eli translated into a nod.

"Good, cause there's been a change of plans. We aren't going to the Golan station. We're-"

"Why not?" demanded Eli.

"That's where we were going, till those ID TIE Interceptors stared harassing me. Now we're headed for the Loyalty."

Eli frowned. "I thought that hadn't been taken yet."

"It hasn't," spoke up the Twi'lek. "We're still fighting for it."

Eli grunted something that included the words 'insane' and 'I will too', but didn't object.

"I'm glad you support this plan, because we have TIEs!" hollered the Kashie, as shots rocked the shuttle.

Eli whipped around, and caught sight of a flight of ID TIE Interceptors advancing and firing from behind. He pulled the right trigger and set lose a volley of laser fire. With the targeting display of the HUD, Eli hit one of them right through the viewport, and took the starboard wing off another. The last two dropped out of the turret's line of fire. Shots began pounding the rear deflectors. Kashie barrel rolled the Raptor, and Eli turned forward, just in time to see her blast the last two ID fighters. Six more bombers fell in behind the Raptor. Eli grinned, This time I can take care of you imbeciles properly. He sent a storm of mostly wild shots, in the Bomber's general direction. Half of the craft fired two concussion missiles, one stalled slightly behind the other. By pure dumb luck, all were caught in Eli's screen of fire before they hit the transport. Still, the damage done to the rear shield was not minimal. They wouldn't hold against anything, not even a TIEs laser cannon. Eli kept firing. The craft did their best to try and miss the laserfire, but their path was filled with it on all sides. Eli relished their panicked, uncoordinated moves. That's for all the Tuk'atans killed by you guys! Eli kept firing, and at the same time got a target lock on each Bomber. "Kashie in a second I need you to brake this thing." She did and Eli let lose his missiles. The explosives curved around the hull towards their targets. The Bombers never had a chance. There had been no way they could of seen the missiles through the glowing screen of laserfire. And that's for my Interceptor!

The Raptor continued its journey to the Loyalty, whilst Kashie gave her crew updates that the shields were recharged and Eli only had four missiles left. Moments later, two massive green blots shredded the Raptor's shields. "What the frak was that?" shouted Eli.

"Twin light turbolaser shots!" responded Kashie. "I guess the Loyalty is still facing resistance. The only reason we're alive is because the Raptor has some heavy shielding! Or [i]had heavy shielding." The pilot hard banked to the upper right, narrowly missing two more turbolaser shots. Eli nearly retched from the g-force. The Raptor groaned under the stress of the turn. Then, it just started drifting. Eli lifted his targeting helmet and looked to the right, at Kashie. She was limp in her chair, her grip on the control yokes slack, her eyes rolled back in her head. 

"What's wrong?" asked the Twi'lek, craning his neck to see what Eli was looking at.


"The force of that turn knocked her out. Manual override her controls, and fly us out of here," commanded Eli.

"But, I'm just a trainee." Another pair of turbolaser shots narrowly missed the Raptor.

"Manual override now!" bellowed Eli. 

The Twi'lek did so, finishing the turn away from the SSD's flank. Then, the co-pilot dove under the massive starship and aimed for the hangar. Two flights of TIE Interceptors were coming at them head on. Eli pulled the helmet back on and saw that they were marked as ID craft. He grasped the controls and began firing. The Interceptors dodged and split to flank the Raptor. The new pilot turned slightly to the right, then threw the throttle open, pushing ahead of starboard side flight. Then the Twi'lek lag turned, coming up on that group's flanks. The Interceptors were already gone, swarming the Raptor, picking apart its shield and, in some places, pounding the armor. Eli did his best, firing at what he could, even taking out an Interceptor, but it didn't do much help. Suddenly, the Interceptors were in chaos, turning from the Raptor and firing. Gradually, Eli spotted the VE Interceptors, who had seemingly come out of nowhere. Eli began firing with new vigor taking the wings off an ID Interceptor, but not much more. When it was over, the Raptor's comm began to crackle. 

"Y-4 Raptor, this is Chief Warrant Officer, Fredrick Nuks, what is your business?"

"Sir, we were dispatched from the VE Golan station to help evacuate the Surprise and we were forced to try to land here," responded the Twi'lek. 

A few minutes past until the comm sparked back to life. "Y-4, you are clear to land in the hangar directly in front of you."

Eli gave a loud whoop of gratefulness. The Raptor pressed forward and this time, made it into the hangar of the Loyalty. Eli lifted his helmet and turned to the Twi'lek, grinning.

"That was some OK flying, kid."


OOC:
Word count: 1549 according to Open Office, but it's been acting up lately.

AAR: Eli becomes the gunner on the transport that picked him up, as it fights it's way first towards the Golan station and finally to the Loyalty.

Edit; I revised it on Deep's recomendation.
FM/LCW/Eli "Lucky Bolts" Long/D-2/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:58 "Javelin"/SSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE

When you strike your opponent do not bruise or even bloody them. Hit them so hard you take away their capacity to fight back.
[This message has been edited by Eli13778 (edited June 16, 2012 10:28:40 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Eli13778 (edited June 17, 2012 10:00:53 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Eli13778 (edited June 17, 2012 10:09:48 AM)]
DarianRogue
ComNet Initiate
 
DarianRogue
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  185
Total Posts:  232
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 17, 2012 7:36:21 PM    View the profile of DarianRogue 
“Tuk'ata 6 is down, repeat, Tuk'ata 6 is down. No idea if he managed to eject in time,” came the voice from the other side of the comm. Tuk’ata 9, Gamma Flight Leader Mako Jansen sighed. This fight was not going too well in the short run of things. Tuk’ata Squadron was a complete mess. He needed to call 11 and 12 back to him, and together they needed to hold out as long as possible. Overall, the VE was winning, but as a squadron… things were going poorly.
Mako tuned to the flight channel and clicked his comm, “DR, Caldaris, regroup. We need to stick together to have any hope of surviving this. No use regrouping with Scral and the others now that he’s down, but let’s stick with each other.”
“Got it,” replied Caldaris, Tuk 12. “On my way,” replied DR, Tuk 11.
When the remainder of Gamma flight was finally regrouped, Mako could focus on finding a goal. With no clear orders, it would be up to him to decide where their efforts would be most useful.

He scanned the area. The Surprise was evacuating. There were a lot of Imperial Shuttles on their way to the Loyalty, now under control of the Vast Empire, and to a Golan defense platform. We should protect them, thought Mako. There’s not much else for us to do, after all. “Gamma Flight,” he began, “let’s head towards the evacuating Surprise. Those shuttles need protection.” He got clicks in response from his flight members.

When they arrived at the scene, they immediately spotted a huge threat to the shuttles: Two whole flights of Imperial Dominion interceptors were headed towards a cluster of 12-some shuttles. Frak. Some will escape, but no mere shuttles can fight back against combat craft like this. A sneer came from the comm. “Here I thought the Dominion was too prideful to go after easy pickings like this.”
“It was,” replied Mako, “but things are different in this situation. They’re going to lose, so they’re trying to cause as much collateral damage as possible. Unlike us they actually like killing their targets. Or so the bar stories would have you believe. Let’s not worry about it though, and save the chatter until after we’ve saved the shuttles.”
“How?” asked Caldaris. “There are 8 of them and only 3 of us.”
“True,” responded Mako, “but 3 of us means 3 of us to perform sneak attacks, firing one or two well-placed missiles each, taking out 3 of them. The explosions may cause some collateral of our own, maybe taking out one or two of the others. This could very well bring them down to 3 as well. At worst, we’ll bring them down to 5. Never underestimate the element of surprise. From either direction. As you go about attacking those fighters too focused on something else, be sure you aren’t surprised yourself. At the same time, never underestimate the power of an explosion, either. That can cause some problems for anyone too close, and the one flaw in these pilots’ flying skill… is that they fly way too close to each other.”

-----------------------------------------------------

The power of an explosion, indeed. There is some truth to that. Explosions are useful, Darian thought. He of all people would know. He thought back to his recent excursion on Bakura.

-----------------------------------------------------
Some time ago…
-----------------------------------------------------

“Game over for you, Darian.” The knife pressed to his neck was cool to the touch, but he knew it was sharp. He knew what it was capable of. The knife may not be the only thing to touch him today. He may very well be touched by Death. But what do we say to Death? he asked himself. Not today. “So you think so, huh? You think I didn’t plan for this?”
“Whatever you planned will not succeed. Your family cannot help you now.”
“I don’t need their help.” With his left hand, he just barely managed to press the microphone button on his comlink. He began to shout, as best he could after being beaten up, the following, hoping to distract his assailant in the process, “T3! EXECUTE OPERATION DETONATE!”
“Beedeeeep deep deep cheep,” came the sound from the comlink. And then came the sound of a large explosion, the gut-wrenching sound of metal being forcibly ripped apart. And it was just enough of a distraction, his assailant was just disturbed enough, that Darian was able to wiggle free, and push the man back in the process.

-----------------------------------------------------
The Present…
-----------------------------------------------------

Heh, he thought. Collateral damage indeed. Ghent died that day. “Very well,” he replied to his flight leader, “let’s do this. Caldaris?”
His wingman responded, “I’m ready.”
They took their aim and fired.

-----------------------------------------------------

“Yes!” abruptly shouted Mako. The plan had gone flawlessly. Not only were the intended targets of the missiles destroyed in balls of flame, but Caldaris’s shot managed to send another Interceptor careening off into space. “Great shot, 12! They’re down to four.” At that point, the ID interceptors were breaking off their attack on the Imperial Shuttles and turned their attention to the remainder of Tuk’ata’s Gamma Flight. “Mission accomplished. We saved the shuttles. Now, just stay calm and we’ll take the others out one by one. Pick a target and stick with it until it’s dead. Yes, they outnumber us by one, but whoever takes care of their target first can save the unlucky soul who is followed by that last one.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Pick a target he did. Darian made a head-on pass with the rightmost fighter. As they sped toward each other, each directing their shields towards their front, Darian realized this was pointless. At this rate they’d crash into each other. Well, I just have to rely on the belief that he won’t try what I’m about to do. The Immelman was Darian’s favorite maneuver, but it really didn’t have any specific offensive or defensive uses. However, if Darian could pull it off in time, even a small one, he could get behind the ID interceptor, whose primary shielding power would still be towards its front. Hitting it from the back would be a quick route to its destruction. But will it work? No, no, Darian, don’t think like that. It has to work. Darian pulled down on the yoke and reversed thrust. Normally cutting thrust would be enough, but Darian absolutely needed to do this quickly, and the specifics of this maneuver were strange in zero gravity. He had plenty of momentum from before, however, to allow him to get above the ID Interceptor, who did indeed keep speeding on. At the very peak of the rise, when Darian’s momentum was running out, he inversed and rolled, then dove down to bring him back to a level with his target. The maneuver was a success. From there, all it took was 4 shots from his Interceptor’s quad-linked lasers to create another one of those spectacular wonders known as an explosion.

OOC:
WC: 1,162. I apologize if this is less than awesome quality. I’m just glad I managed to get over 1000 words out of this. If the higher powers take objection to some of the rather miraculous content in this post, they need only tell me and I will see what I can do to edit it.

AAR: Gamma flight goes off to help some of the Imperial Shuttles fleeing from the Surprise, Darian has another flashback, taking place right after the last one, and he then proceeds to pull off an awesome maneuver.
FM/SCRW DarianRogue/Γ-3/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:52 "Javelin"/MSSD Atrus/TF:A/1 Flt/SC/VEN/VE (=*AE*=)
Eli13778
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Eli13778
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 18, 2012 5:48:00 PM    View the profile of Eli13778 
Once the Y-4 Raptor had docked in the hangar, Eli, the co-pilot, the now awake pilot, and the 40 passengers departed with the transport. Upon leaving, Eli decided to inspect the hull. What he found astonished him. The back slab of hull was slightly domed in, probably from the concussion missiles that had detonated near it. Other large patches of hull were nearly melted clean through from laserfire. Two large dents in particular, Eli guessed to be from the turbolaser shots. He realized how truly close he had been to dying. Yet, he hadn't known it when the danger was there- to his knowledge, only the port shields were down, due to the turbolaser shots. However, from what he could see from the hull, the Raptor had had no shields whatsoever. It was that kriffing Twi'lek. He never gave me a status update the entire minute that those Interceptors were swarming us. Eli turned from the transport and jogged after the co-pilot. "Hey, Twi'lek! Can I have a word?"

"My name is Taurek," the Twi'lek said as he turned to face Eli. "And to answer you question, yes, what do you need?"

"Can you tell me how the hell the Raptor is so beat up, when only the port area's shield was down?" demanded Eli.

"All of the shields were down," Taurek said calmly. 

"So why didn't you give me a status report?" Eli nearly shouted. "We were about to die, and I had no idea!"

"Fifteen seconds."

"What?"

"Fifteen seconds till here would be a hull breach and, yes, we would have died. But tell me this; would you rather have died suddenly, obliviously, and nearly painlessly, or would you rather know the countdown to your death, dreading it, fighting the inevitable?" asked the Twi'lek calmly.

Eli's mouth opened and closed several times as he struggled to respond. He wanted to still be mad at Taurek, but the truth was, the Twi'lek was right. Frustrated with himself, Eli nodded and began turning away. 

"Leading Crewman!" shouted a voice to his left. Eli turned to see a man in a VE uniform coming towards him. "Wait for a moment please. I am Lieutenant Thrash Fragolis and I'm currently in charge of this hangar. I'd like to thank you for helping us get rid of those ID TIE Interceptors that were right outside."

"Well, thank you for sending your Interceptors to save our hides. I didn't know that starfighters participated in boarding operations," Eli responded.

"Well, generally they don't. But one of our engineers found out how to re-program these TIE Interceptors to show up as VE on the IFFs. We need them to escort some shuttles of wounded marines to the Atrus's medical bay," explained Thrash.

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Sir, I am a Interceptor pilot, and I obviously need one to fly. If you can give me an Interceptor, I'd be happy to help escort the shuttles and then re-join the fight."

The Lieutenant shook his head. "I'm sorry, but those five Interceptors that helped you are to only ones in one piece in this hangar. The other hangars, even the ones we poses, are not under my current jurisdiction. But tell you what, since you were part of the crew that distracted those Dominion Interceptors long enough for us to clear them out, I'll put you on a shuttle back to the Atrus. Sound good to you, Leading Crewman?"

Eli grinned and nodded. "That sounds very nice, Lieutenant. Thank you, sir." Eli extended a hand and Thrash shook it firmly. Then, two more officers escorted him to a group of Lambda shuttles, where the wounded were being loaded on. Inside, the shuttle smelt of sweat, blood, and pus. The interior had been stripped and makeshift durasteel tables had been welded onto the floor, where injured marines lay, most of them unconscious from sedatives. Many twisted in their dreamless state and a few even whimpered. Eli was internally torn from the sight of them, forced to look away in many cases. When a starfighter crashed or was shot down, more often than not, there were no survivors and nothing left of the dead. But, in the case of these foot soldiers, a blaster shot or explosion maimed the victim or left grotesque remains. Eli could hardly stand it. This was a true display of the horrors of war. The Falleen, unable to look for another moment, went to the forward right corner, and wept silent bitter tears. These had been good men. They had changed the outcome of the battle, practically ensuring Eli and many other VE Naval personnels' survival. Some of these marines could not be saved. But they could damn well be avenged.

The shuttle shuttered as it lifted off. "To any passengers that are awake this is your captain," crackled a voice over the ship wide comm. "We are bringing you guys to the Atrus. ETA: 18 minutes."

The shuttle ride was a bit shorter than expected. No ID craft attacked the escorted shuttle convoy. As the ride progressed, Eli made silent predictions about why this was the case. The Imperial Dominion's forces had been too spread out after the Loyalty had gained an advantageous position over the Atrus. Once the Loyalty had been boarded and its bridge destroyed, the ID had lost a vital pawn in the battle. They no longer had the strength or firepower to keep up with the Vast Empire. So, while the VE still sustained heavy loses, as proven in the destruction of the Surprise, the tide of the battle was greatly in its favor. What puzzled Eli, was why the Dominion still attacked the VE's capital ships. As it was clear that the ID could not win, they were obviously intent on causing enough damage before they were crushed. The logical thing to do then, was to wipe out as much of the VE's starfighter contingent as possible, not waste puny TIE Interceptors on ships the size of the Atrus. Yet the command of the ID was fractured, and their offensive against the VE had nearly failed.

Eli conjured this in his mind, not because he was fond of naval strategy, but instead to distract him from the wounded marines around him. The anticipation of getting into the cockpit of a TIE Interceptor, and helping finish this fight was almost unbearable. He had come here to be a starfighter engineer, but now found himself molding into a pilot very quickly. He still was set on earning the right to work on at least starfighters, but he now also wanted to progress as a pilot. He loved flying, always had. But this shuttle ride was nothing to love. Eli, finally collecting his willpower, began to look at each wounded marine closer. The man nearest to him had lost his right leg below the knee, the wound crudely stitched closed. The next, a Zabrak female, had half of her face viciously burned off. Limp, sagging, dead skin hung from her scalp. After that was a male blue-skinned Twi'lek who now had nothing below the waist. Blood oozed from the gaping cauterized hole. The Twi'lek's chest still rose and fell, though in an uneven ragged pattern. Bile rose in Eli's throat. His mind screamed for him to turn away from this insanity, to return to the corner. He forced himself to not look away. 

"That bad, huh?" gasped a voice from behind Eli. The Falleen jumped, every corner of his mind panicking, adrenaline suddenly rushing through his veins. He calmed his mind, and, heart still pounding, turned to see who had spoken. It was an elder male Falleen. He had no right arm. "Hello, there."

"Hey," Eli choked out from the clump that had risen in his throat. "Why are you still awake? Shouldn't you be under?"

"I told the medics to administer to my squad before me. They ran out of sedatives by the time it was my turn. Don't worry, I can handle the pain." The being began to chuckle. A large, translucent red bubble of blood rose from his lips and popped.

"Your squad... what happened?" asked Eli, who struggled to hide his disgust. 

"A couple of damn crewmen sabotaged some hallway generators to blow as we passed them. The explosions did the rest," the Fallen gurgled, blood filling his mouth. "Can you promise me something?"

"Of course," said Eli earnestly, as he leaned in to hear the Falleen's gurgling words clearer.

"I am Chief Warrant Officer, Nozgal Stren. My squad was part of the boarding party of the Loyalty. Don't let them forget us. Don't let us die in vain. Fight for what I died for." The Fallen pressed something into Eli's had. "Don't forget us," he rasped. With that, Nozgal's breathing ceased, and he passed. 

Eli opened his hand to see Nozgal's dogtags there. No tears came to Eli. No lump formed in his throat. A new sense of purpose burned in his heart. "I swear to that," Eli whispered, knowing that Nozgal couldn't hear him. Gingerly, Eli closed the Falleen's eyes with two fingertips. Then, he stood up straight and kept his post until the shuttle landed in the Atrus, and Nozgal was carried off. He won't have died in vain. Whether in this battle or the next, someone will pay for this. I'll make sure of it. Eli then exited the shuttle, slipped the dogtags into his pocket, and went to find himself a new TIE Interceptor.


OOC:
Word count: 1591

AAR: Eli strikes a deal with the Lieutenant in charge to ride back to the Atrus on a shuttle ferrying wounded marines. Then, on the shuttle he speaks to one of the marines.


Edit: I added the shuttle ride after the pilot's announcement
FM/LCW/Eli "Lucky Bolts" Long/D-2/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:58 "Javelin"/SSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE

When you strike your opponent do not bruise or even bloody them. Hit them so hard you take away their capacity to fight back.
[This message has been edited by Eli13778 (edited June 19, 2012 3:09:38 PM)]
Ellesmere
ComNet Cadet
 
Ellesmere
 
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 2nd Class
 
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 21, 2012 6:44:25 PM    View the profile of Ellesmere 
As she watched events unfold, she felt her body start to shut down – as though paralyzed by shock or fear; or maybe a little bit of both. As she issued orders left and right she couldn’t help but to keep glancing over at her Commanding Officer who seemed to be ruminating in his own thoughts.  She was unable to think on it too much however as  diagnostics and damage reports poured in – those last few hits they had taken on had really crippled them.  They were dead in space, shields were minimal and as for their Fighters…Those weren’t doing too well either, a skeleton crew at best.

As she reported these latest developments, she watched Wyl’s facial expression change a few times, and waited anxiously for her next orders. But what she heard – while she expected something of the sort by now, was still surprising coming from her Commander. Abandon ship? We can’t! I don’t even know if we’ve enough escape pods and shuttles left for everyone to board...Only one way to find out

Unwilling to dwell on the matter any longer, she made the arrangements for Trick’s flight suit to be brought to him as well as made sure everyone was clear on making final, hurried preparations for the ship’s evacuation. As she walked from station to station, she reflected to a document she had read about a previous mission having to do with the Success; she also had some knowledge that her Commander had been  on that mission – the more she thought about it, the more she came to realize that he didn’t want this crew to suffer a fate like that of the prior mission. While this realization made sense to her now in terms of his actions, she worried that it was affecting him in a few ways simultaneously.

Forcing herself to bury her anxieties and to not dwell on things until this was over with, she made sure every single surviving Crewman was accounted for, that Trick’s suit had effectively been delivered to him and that everyone was on their way to either shuttles or escape pods before making her way to a shuttle herself. As she boarded, she realized she was headed to the cockpit without actually thinking about it. Her days in a fighter evidently hadn’t left her spirit. Stopping only momentarily to wonder about what she was doing, she shrugged it off and decided to keep on her short walk to the cockpit.

As she entered the small cockpit, she noted that both the pilot and co-pilot’s seats were empty. Not wasting any time, she jumped into the pilot’s seat and started to strap herself in as Lerak, Minia and Triz walked in.

“Well well, look whose looking on joining in on the fun” Lerak said with a small grin as he got into the co-pilot’s seat. As Minia and Triz took up their stations,  she powered up the shuttle as she impatiently waited for confirmation that they were full up before raising the ramp and hastily finishing up her pre-flight checks as they moved to the bay doors.

Keying the comm., she ordered everyone to strap themselves in and stay seated “this might be a hell of a ride”, with that minor courtesy taken care of she took hold of the controls and they soon found themselves speeding away from the Surprise and headed towards the Loyalty. On their way, she took a few seconds to glimpse the now empty carcass which was what remained of the Surprise and hoped everyone had managed to get out of the doomed vessel.

OOC:
WC:600

AAR:Ellesmere follows through with her CO's orders and ensures everyone abandons ship before taking command of a shuttle herself
SXO/PO2 Ellesmere/SMC Surprise /TF:B/1FL/FC/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1]

SCO/PO2 Ellesmere/TF:B/Raptor/VENA/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1]
Serpent
ComNet Member
Imperial Baronet

 
Serpent
 
[VE-NAVY] Master Chief Petty Officer
 
Post Number:  368
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 22, 2012 7:47:34 AM    View the profile of Serpent 
OOC:

NPC post.  Part 3 of 3 about the Imperial Dominion’s Mistblade Squadron.

Part Three: The Rookie


Mistblade Ten, call sign Slipstream, adjusted his course slightly to bring himself onto the wing of his superior, Mistblade Nine.  Slipstream felt nerves deep inside him, nerves that had nothing to do with the ferocity of the Battle of Abrae, or that his side, the Imperial Dominion, were losing.

This was Slipstream’s first mission with the elite Mistblade Squadron, and he was desperate not to screw it up.  So far he had followed Nine’s lead dutifully, though not remarkably, and was growing worried that his presence in the battle was something of a non-event.

“Okay Ten, come about to heading 046 by 13,” Came his superior’s command loud and clear through his helmet headset.  “I’m reading four VE fighters.  Two TIE Bombers plus their TIE Interceptor escorts.  We will engage.”  Nine did not really need to say ‘TIE’ when identifying every make of hostile, but Slipstream knew that his superior was very precise in all things, in accordance with the regulations he knew so well.

“Understood, sir,” Replied Ten crisply, protecting a calm clarity into his voice that he did not really feel.  Cycling through the plethora of foes in his targeting computer, he found the ones mentioned by his superior and tagged them as priorities.

The two Mistblades adjusted their course and shot off through the chaotic melee of the Battle of Abrae.  Their fellow ships of the Imperial Dominion had assembled themselves into a wedge shape, centred around the Star Destroyer Visage, and were now driving hard into the VE lines, trying to break free and retreat.

The idea of conceding the battle to the Vast Empire did not sit well with any of the Mistblades, though they understood that the morale of the whole fleet was shattered.  The double-punch of bad news, first the loss of their carrier, the ISD Countenance, and then the even harder loss of their fleet’s centrepiece, the Allegiance-Class Super Star Destroyer Loyalty, had both hit morale hard.

Clearing the skies of hostile TIEs was to be the Mistblades role in this desperate escape gambit, and so they weaved their way in and out of the tussling behemoth capital ships and en route to their target.

“I see them, sir,” Said Slipstream as they approached visual range.

“And they see us too,” Said Nine, as the two VE Interceptors broke from their Bomber escorts and rushed to engage them.  “Break and attack!” He ordered, as the two pairs of combatants flew hard at each other, spewing fire and then breaking off into messy one-on-one dogfighting.

Slipstream banked hard right, trying hard to keep a sight on his opponent and not let the other TIE get in behind him.  The two fighters engaged in a frenzied series of twists and turns, stray shots going wide of the mark as they snapped off desperate blasts during fleeting moments of being in the other’s targeting reticule.

Mistblade Ten shoved his joystick from side to side, snarling inside his helmet as he tried to get an edge on his foe.  Slipstream was a good pilot, otherwise he never would have qualified for the top Squadron on the Countenance, and it was just his luck to have encountered a rival who was just as adept.

He knew that he had to break the deadlock somehow and get an advantage over his opponent, but how?

There was only one option.  By taking a chance.

Slipstream went random.  Rather than try and twist his fighter around towards the rival TIE (who was trying the same thing and causing them to just go around in circles), he yanked hard on the joystick and angled away, wilfully presenting his rear as a target for a couple of seconds.

Those seconds were all the invitation his foe needed, and the VE pilot came about sharply to open fire, sniffing out an easy kill like a Firaxan shark sniffed out blood.

Bright neon-green laser fire erupted from the cannons of the enemy Interceptor, but they never hit Ten.  Slipstream rolled his fighter, shoving all his shields to front, and suddenly the two were head-to-head.

Energy splashed across the shields of Mistblade Ten, but he banked on his reinforced defences holding long enough for him to surprise his foe.  He had six concussion missiles at the start of this battle, and had used three already.  He fired one now, launching it at his foe and then accelerating hard behind it.

The VE fighter never knew what happened.  He saw the missile incoming, and adjusted his fire to shoot it down.  Spraying fire right along its course, he almost could not fail to miss, and did not.  As the missile exploded, however, Slipstream came right through the cloud of superheated oxygen, firing like mad.

Caught flat-footed, the enemy Interceptor watched his shields deplete and on reflex pulled up, trying to get away.  Mistblade Ten just fell in behind him, pouring fire into the doomed TIE, and then watched in delight as it exploded.

“Got him!” Slipstream roared into his helmet microphone.

“Excellent work, Ten,” Came Mistblade Nine’s calm reply, his voice so cool that one would never guess that he was engaged in a similar dogfight.

“Coming to assist you now, sir,” Said Slipstream, checking his scanner for his fellow’s location.

“Negative on that, Ten,” Was the crisp order.  “I can take this one.  Your priority is those two Bombers.  We cannot let them make a run on the Visage.  They are currently without escort, but shall not remain so for long.  Destroy them now, Ten!”

“Understood, sir,” Replied Slipstream, and brought up the two VE Bombers he had tagged in his targeting computer earlier.  Spying them close by and far from the cover of any other hostile fighters, Ten saw his chance and raced towards them.

As Nine had suspected, the two Bombers were on a course for the Visage, currently the fleet’s lead vessel.  Slipstream caught up with the lumbering double-hulled TIEs with ease, and smirked as his saw the graceless craft attempt their version of evasive manoeuvres.

Mistblade Ten was in no mood for mercy, especially after the humiliations that the VE had heaped on the Imperial Dominion this day.  He lined up the targets and fired, piling on the pressure and blitzing through the shields of first one, and then the other.  Within a matter of moments both Bombers were nothing but debris.

Three kills, mused Slipsteam, not a bad outing for a rookie.  Flushed with success, he turned and raced back towards Nine.

For everyone else in the Imperial Dominion, the Battle of Abrae would be a bitter day.  But for Mistblade Ten is was a proud moment, the day he had been baptized by fire and earned the respect of his new Squadron.

A small victory, but he would take it.

OOC:

1131 words.  Part three of the ‘The Veteran, The Fool, and The Rookie’.

AAR:  The rookie member of Mistblade Squadron works hard to prove himself, and after a tense dogfight is able to take out a VE Interceptor, and the two Bombers that it was escorting.  His victory is a minor one, though, for the Imperial Dominion have lost the battle, and are now engaged in a desperate attack to break through the Vast Imperial lines to safety. 
FO/MCPO Pherik “Serpent” Zail / ISD II Halcyon Warrior/TF: Besh/1Flt/FC/VEN/VE
[SoA][MC2][LoM][NAR][E][HNS][SWC][CBV][VC:S][SoV][MiD][=*Eng*=]

"If the crew doesn't hate the XO, then he's not doing his job." - Colonel Saul Tigh
Trykon
ComNet Marshal
 
Trykon
 
[VE-DJO] Adept
[VE-NAVY] Lieutenant Junior Grade
 
Post Number:  1648
Total Posts:  3784
Joined:  Feb 2011
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 22, 2012 8:02:11 PM    View the profile of Trykon 
All alone on the bridge, leaning against the main communications panel with his flight helmet tucked under one arm, Wyl Trykon listened as his crew abandoned ship.  He’d set the equipment to receive all local VE signals: the resulting audioscape was a confused jumble of contradictory orders, triumphal whoops, distress calls, and garbled transmissions cut short by bursts of noise which gave way to abrupt static.  Through the din, though, after many minutes the Kuati ship captain managed to discern two short sentences: “Shuttle Derillium is clear of Surprise.  Evacuation complete.”  The frail-sounding voice, barely audible through the crackling connection, belonged to Trykon’s Executive Officer, Michelle Blondeau.  Blondeau and the other members of the bridge crew had been the last personnel to leave their posts: with their shuttle clear of the hangar, Trykon allowed himself a long sigh of relief.  “It’s done, then,” he murmured to himself.  With a little nod, he flipped a series of switches, and powered down the panel, careful to keep the automated distress beacon active.

Trykon turned to leave, and let himself linger for a moment, taking one last look at the bridge.  It was eerie to see the command center of the mighty Surprise so empty.  His own duty uniform lay crumpled in a heap to one side, where he’d thrown it in his haste to change into his flight suit after the others had left, and another officer’s cap lay where it had fallen, near the Helm station.  But other than those few scattered signs of the hurried evacuation, there was no evidence of sentient life.  The stillness was profound.  And with the engines cut off from power, the silence was absolute.  It feels funerary, Trykon thought, frowning.  This ship, without her crew, seems dead.  Shaking away his dark thoughts, Wyl walked to the door, before turning one last time to face the empty bridge.  “I will be back,” he promised the ship, before pulling on his helmet and walking out of the room.

Trykon maintained a brisk pace as he made his way to the forward hangar, but he didn’t rush.  Before the evacuation, Surprise had been a juicy target for the Imperial Dominion: a fatally-wounded capital ship one shot away from destruction.  But with the crew successfully fled and the automated beacon on, Surprise would look like little more than a wreck to those watching from outside, and Trykon knew that with their flagship captured and fleet decimated, the out-maneuvered ID forces had more important things to worry about than making doubly sure that one particular enemy cruiser was rendered unsalvageable.  He wanted to get to his fighter and rejoin the battle, but the life-or-death urgency to get off Surprise had subsided somewhat.  Understanding that, Trykon considered the idea of running headlong through abandoned corridors to be a little foolhardy.

His instincts were proved correct when he reached the hangar some minutes later, safely, and without the ship exploding all around him in some suicidal ID attack.  Calmly and efficiently, he began his pre-flight inspection of his personal starfighter, the Revenant, a modified TIE/D Defender.  A quick walk-around and an abbreviated start-up sequence later, the two ion engines screamed into operation, and with a deafening whine, the black-painted Revenant passed through the magcon field of the forward hangar, and into space.

“This is Surprise Actual, aboard Revenant One,” Trykon said into his open comm.  “Who can I assist?”

OOC:
567 words.

AAR: Trykon is the last to abandon Surprise.  He promises to return to the bridge, then leaves aboard his personal TIE Defender, the Revenant.
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SCAP/LTJG Wyl Trykon/SMC Surprise/TF:B/1Flt/FC/VEN/VE
CNT/LTJG Wyl "Trick" Trykon/PLF Cappadocious/VENA/VEN/VE

[SoA][SoV][BWC][NSM][E][NAR][HNS][DSM][SWC][1NS][VC:B][LoM][VC:S][NC][GWC]/(=*AE*=)(=*SAE*=)(=*TG*=)(=*SCFE*=)

TRN/AD Trykon/DJO/VEDJ
Drac
ComNet Marshal
 
Drac
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Captain
[VE-VEMC] 2nd Lieutenant
 
Post Number:  1905
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  RE: VEN: Out of the Invisible
June 28, 2012 6:37:16 PM    View the profile of Drac 
“Captain, we’ve lost the Surprise.”

“What?” Drac frowned and stopped himself from whirling around hastily, instead turning at a measured pace, “Report.”

One of the Sensors officers was the crewman who’d spoken, and the young woman continued, “Yes, sir. Surprise detached from the Loyalty and began maneuvering to fill a position in our net formation. However, a rack of missiles from the VSD Stormwall impacted along her ventral hull, causing severe hull breaches. Further damage is probable, but we have no way of estimating it currently. The ship is currently drifting with only its automated distress beacon signaling, and escape pods are launching.”

Drac sighed, “Well, there’s that at least. Track those escape pods and launch recovery shuttles from the nearest ship capable of it.”

“Aye, sir.”

~~~~~

Lieutenant Tribanne, Genalla’s Executive Officer, suddenly spoke up from the other side of the bridge, “Captain! You need to see this, sir.”

Genalla quick-stepped over to where his XO stood over one of the Sensors officers, keeping an eye on the re-orienting fleet’s progress as he did so, “Yes, Lieutenant?”

The thin-featured aristocrat pointed to the officer’s terminal, “Look there, sir: A hole in their formation. The Stormwall took some vengeance on the surviving Strike-class that helped board the Loyalty. She’s adrift out of position and her escape pods have just finished launching…Your orders, sir?”

Genalla looked out the viewport for a moment, worrying his lower lip as he weighed the options. He still burned to take down the Halcyon Warrior and her alien captain, but that would likely result in catastrophic damage to his own forces. But if his ships could push through the hole in the Vast Imperial formation, they could shoot out the other side and get clearance to jump to hyperspace before their opponents could successfully reorient. But it had to happen now.

“Signal the fleet to make for that gap. Ships that get through should target that interdictor if possible- we need to drive it off if we’re to retreat in good order.”

They would return home having failed completely…but at least they would return home.

~~~~~

Captain Mihawk watched as the Imperial Dominion formation completed its about-face and began to contract into a thick column, and realized quickly what they were doing: pushing through the hole in his forces’ formation left by Surprise’s untimely defeat. Worse, the orientation of the ships nearest the breach was such that they could not close it quickly enough to prevent the maneuver.

After a moment’s contemplation of the maneuver and his possible responses, the Mon Calamari’s gravelly voice cut across the bridge noise, “Order the leading edges of our formation to collapse inward and pursue the enemy force through the breach. Ships near the breach are to push in to support those being directly attacked- shield overlap and collision avoidance tactics encouraged. Mid-formation ships are to begin coming about to pursue enemy forces as they flee.”

As the Comms officers began relaying his commands a tone sounded from the arm of his command chair, indicating an incoming comms signal. Recognizing it as a Ship Captain’s personal signal, he activated the link. No holo signal came through, but a familiar voice spoke up, “Captain Mihawk. Lieutenant Trykon reporting, sir.”

Drac grunted quietly, then replied, “I somehow didn’t think they’d manage to kill you off with your ship, Lieutenant. I assume from the lack of holo that you’re not engaging in the tradition of going down with it?”

“That would be correct, sir- except, I believe the Surprise can be salvaged. She’s no worse off than your Cerulean was after tangling with that DP-20.”

“We’ll see, then. It would be good if you haven’t lost me a ship. Now- what’s your current status?”

“I’m in Revenant, sir, assisting escape pods and anyone else in the area that needs it.”

“Very well. I’m sure your hands are full, so I’ll cut the conversation short. I don’t need one of my Captains flying around solo out there, though- call in to my Flight Control officers. They’ll attach you to a squadron in need of support.”

“Aye, sir. Revenant out.”

Space began to brighten as the firing intensified between the rival factions. The outer edges of the bowl had already curled in and begun firing on the enemy from their rear arc, even as the column of enemy ships began trading fire with the thickening ring of craft moving toward the breach. Drac nodded in approval as he saw Dead Gun and several other ships orient themselves on the diagonal. The maneuver would allow all of the gun batteries on one side to fire as the enemy approach, while also presenting a relatively small target area. When the enemy passed through they would be exposed to full-on broadsides from the ships’ other flank batteries. If shields went down at any time, all the stricken ship had to do was roll. The enemy ships, however, were stuck in a crossfire and couldn’t roll to bring in fresh shields. An excellent maneuver in all respects.

The enemy column began to push through the breach, and the whole area of space around the head of the column burned almost too bright to look at. Salvos landed, blazing across shields and blackening hulls. Debris and limp bodies sprayed into space as hulls breached and compartments depressurized in the space of a second.

Drac saw one or two Vast Empire ships begin to drift, flames guttering from their frames. One looked like it might begin to break up as escape pods blasted out, but the other began to right itself and come back under control after a few tense moments and limped away from the fight. The Imperial Dominion wasn’t quite so lucky. Their remaining Strike-class cruiser took a hard hit on its forward starboard module, and the ship section decompressed explosively. The force of the atmosphere exiting through a relatively small hole acted like an emergency thruster- slamming the ship hard to port in an uncontrolled but fully powered turn. Its turn led it straight into the side of one of the remaining Dreadnoughts where the cruiser crumpled against the larger ship and broke up in a matter of moments.

The Dreadnought survived the impact and continued, now firing only weakly. Its aft half of its starboard side was an ugly, twisted ruin trailing bodies and debris as it dragged along the now-embedded remains of the bridge section of the smaller cruiser. Even though the stricken ship made it through, the damage was done: the wrecked modules and engine section of the Strike-class were now drifting at random through the breach presenting additional navigation hazards to the enemy captains.

But then something unexpected came- something for which Drac would chide himself for many times later. Enemy ships that made it through began concentrating their fire on the Binder, washing bright destructive energy over its shields and hull.  The ship immediately began to roll to present new shields, but her Captain was forced to make a hard choice: power down the gravity well generator to reinforce shields and let the enemy get through? Or keep the generator going and risk a fatal hull breach? It wasn’t really a choice- the VE didn’t have enough Interdictors to risk losing one. The generator spun down to a stop and the shields came back up…and Binder ran forward to put the bulk of other ships between its vulnerable hull and the enemy fire.

“Sir! Binder’s been driven out of position and has had to deactivate their gravity well generator. Estimated time until the lead elements of the enemy force can jump out is now two minutes. Three minutes for their rearguard.”

“Kriff,” Drac muttered to himself. Then he nodded, “Continue to concentrate fire on them. They’ll get away, but not without taking all we can give them.”

A minute later one of the enemy Victory Star Destroyers foundered, its command tower fracturing into pieces as argent lines of fire traced it into chunks that blew apart violently. The main body of the ship began ejecting escape pods by the dozen until, thirty seconds later, the remaining portions of the ship self-destructed. At almost the same moment the last Lancer-class frigate fell prey to the guns of several Vast Empire warships, ejecting only a few escape pods before going dark in the wake of total atmosphere decompression.

Moments later the lead Dreadnought flickered and disappeared into hyperspace, followed one after another by the other ships remaining to the Imperial Dominion. Last of all was the Visage, still dueling the Halcyon Warrior, which flickered out of sight after firing one last mass burst of their ion cannons that threw Drac and anyone else standing to the deck and left the Warrior tumbling out of control as the bridge crew and Damage Control teams rushed to re-establish command and control functions.

Mihawk regained his feet, wiping at blood streaming from a gash between his eyes, and stared at the point where the enemy had disappeared from the system. Serpent, nursing a twisted ankle, limped over to him, “Orders, sir?”

The dark skinned alien was silent for a moment, then nodded somewhat absently, “Release any remaining rescue shuttles to gather up EV pilots and escape pods, and see if there’re any survivors on the disabled or destroyed ships. Begin operations to tow salvageable craft out of dangerous orbits and to clear navigation lanes through debris fields.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Another tone sounded and Drac returned to his command chair to answer the Comm call. A holo of Admiral Stormz whirled into place at his primary holoprojector and Drac saluted, “Admiral.”

The wookiee returned the salute, “[Captain. Status?]”

Drac’s voice was dour, “They got away, sir.”

The huge being whuffed out a chuckle, “[So they did. But theirrr time will come- and we have won the day. Loyalty will be completely securred shortly, and ourrr facilities and forces sufferred no catastrophic damage. Well fought.]”

Drac nodded, “Indeed, sir. A battle to remember.”

OOC:
Word Count: 1,663

AAR: Surprise goes down and the enemy takes advantage of the hole to escape, but not without major damage. Recovery operations commence and the aftermath begins as Drac and Stormz consider the outcome.

Notes:
That’s a wrap, folks. Great job, everyone! We’ll be tallying up participation and you guys can expect an awards topic in short order. In fact, I may need a hovercart to help bring the case in holding all the shinies.

I’ll keep this open for a few days so anyone who wants to can do one last post- but I can’t guarantee said posts will go toward medals, etc.
TFC/CAPT Drac/ISD II Halcyon Warrior/TF: Besh/1Flt/FC/VEN/VE
Captain of the ISD II Halcyon Warrior
Chief of Naval Warfare
CNW|Captain Drac|NHC|VEN|VE
"Think Ackbar, but Imperial."

TRN/UNI Drac/VEDJ
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