Imperial Entanglements

[Sanis Prent]

With a flash, Layla cut into realspace, diving headlong towards what should've been home sweet home and a job well done. It was anything but.

"This is Rogue Thirteen, come in Valiant Actual. This is Rogue Thirteen. This is Rogue Thirteen to all local comm bands, channel priority."

Sublights wide open, I banked the ship around the flanks of the flotilla, as if by the urgency of my flying I could somehow shake the fleet awake.

"The Empire has our coordinates (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20307&page=11). Attack is imminent. Repeat, attack is imminent."

I could only hope that whatever Navy jock was on the ball tonight was able to get the right people on task, because every second counted. If the Wheel didn't sound evacuation, and set a retreat rally-point, we were all in very real danger.

I didn't look to Loki, who was sitting to my right. We both knew exactly what was on the line.

"Ready on those quads?"

[Lowrook]

"This is Rogue Thirteen, come in Valiant Actual. This is Rogue Thirteen. This is Rogue Thirteen to all local comm bands, channel priority."

Captain Brandt has on the bridge when the call came in. Since the time that Lowrook had left the Berserker and gone to the Whaladon, Brandt had moved the Berserker with the formation of the fleet. Now, his guts froze as he thought of the Empire showing up.

"Copy that Thirteen. Berserker responding."

Brandt hit his comlink that opened a frequency to Lowrook.

"Master Lowrook, the Layla is back and sounding the alert that the Imps have our coordinates. Moving to set up delaying action."

Brandt didn't know if Lowrook would respond, but right now Brandt was in command of the ship now.

"Navigation, turn us into the direction of the exit vector of the Layla. Launch all fighters and form them up in front of us."

"Sir, you know that we only have 2 X-Wings and 1 Y-Wing, right?"

"We don't have much choice. We might get off a barrage that will either damage or delay them."

The navigator nodded and relayed the information. The Berserker's shields went up and it moved to align itself on the exit vector of the Layla.

[Carré Inirial]

"This is the Valiant, we copy Thirteen. Emergency protocols activated."

The Layla had barely registered on the Valiant's sensors before the clarion call had gone across all channels. Ice poured through the veins of the bridge officers as someone finally had the presence of mind to slap a hand on the emergency klaxons.

Interior and exterior lights alike flipped on in conjunction with the emergency alarms splitting the air in every nook and cranny of the ship. Every available fighter pilot was alerted as techs and hanger crews flew into action to be ready to launch as soon as was possible.

Colonel Vorega raced onto the bridge and shouted for the comms officer to broadcast the klaxons to every ship in the fleet, and was rewarded with the sight of it already having been done. In the viewport, she could see the fleet rippling to life.

---

It was supposed to be an easy detail. Flying around the fleet's formation as a guard for a couple of hours, then head back for dinner with Kelly. It would mark the first time in weeks they'd had any time to themselves-

Fingers slid across the controls reflexively as the Layla slid out of hyperspace. Carré was seconds away from harassing Sanis when his voice split the air on the comms channel. My gods...the Empire. Though she cold see the ships coming to life and the chatter becoming frenzied over the comms channels, she opened a direct line back to the Rogue hanger on the Valiant.

"TINK! CHRYS!" Carré shouted with no little sense of urgency, even as she muttered commands to Fiver to drop the diagnostics he was running and prepare the battle sequences.

"We're on it Phoenix - klaxons are going and we're scrambling everyone we can into fighters." Chrys' voice came clearly through, the strain already evident in her tone. Fighers were one thing to worry about - the woman had her children aboard the Valiant as well.

Carré angled her X-wing towards the point where Thirteen had come out of hyperspace, noting with some measure of relief that the Berserker had been quick to respond and its few fighters were in the process of launching as well.

[Lowrook]

"Master Lowrook, the Layla is back and sounding the alert that the Imps have our coordinates. Moving to set up delaying action."

Lowrook heard the message. He also felt the tension on the Whaladon increase tenfold. The threatening cloud of the darkside was closing in on the Wheel. For the sake of the Padawans and Younglings they had to get out of here.

"Copy that Brandt. May the Force be with You."

Lowrook wanting nothing more than to be on the bridge of his ship, leading the way into battle. But he knew that if he tried to make it to the Berserker, he would end up stuck in that bucket of a shuttle out in space between the two fleets. That's a good way to wind up dead.

Instead, Lowrook calmly took a seat on the cargo hold floor. He crossed his legs and assumed a meditative posture.

Slowly he immersed himself in the Force. He began to reach out in the Force, lightly touching on the beings around him, feeling their emotions... their connections with the Force. Moving outward, he began to probe the defenses of the Wheel. Out farther, he moved his awareness to where the enemy was approaching. The cloud of the dark side was condensing... concentrating... and it was nearby.

Lowrook then focused his attention on the Berserker. Captain Brandt was easy to read. His determination was a solid rock for the rest of the crew. Up ahead, the three fighters were moving out in an inverted triangle... the two X-Wings escorting the single Y-Wing.

Connecting with their minds, he entered into a battle meditation. While the crew moved independently of his actions, Lowrook would use the Force to enhance their performance.

[Jamo Jakatta]

The crew of the Valiant were diligent in their duties. Day and night was spent preparing for eventualities such as these, running through training scenarios that emulated common and not so common Imperial assault tactics. At the moment the Layla burst into realspace, Jamo Jakatta and Iyar Thiled were themselves engaged in a little endurance training.

“You got a right-arm like a wet noodle!”

“Son of a Hutt, you hit the same spot again!”

The Zeltron swung again, thumping his wing-man in the bicep. Bored of playing cards and dice, forbidden from drinking and without so much as a saucy little cadet to keep them entertained, they had resorted to the cherished boyhood pastime - and certified test of manhood - that was punching each other over and over in the arm. Jamo was grinning.

“Dude, bruises are purple, your skin is purple. No one will be able to tell the difference-”

“Battlestations.” The loud-speaker interupted, wiping the grin off Joker's face. “All pilots to their fighters, repeat – all pilots to their fighters. Imperial assault imminent. This is not a drill.”

Jamo set off at a sprint, swerving past Iyar as the two of them bolted towards their birds. “Last one in the air is Vorega's bitch.”

[Iyar Thiled]

The dull ache in his arm quickly left as adrenaline kicked in, though at the moment Iyar couldn't have said it was because of the alarms blaring through the ship or his little race with Joker.

Imperial assault imminent. It was almost too much to hope for. Not that it would have really been considered a good thing by most people, but Iyar knew that practically every pilot headed to their fighter at that moment was experiencing a mixture of unease at the Wheel being compromised and the overwhelming thrill of the fight that was hopefully to come.

The steps of the ladder to Rogue 10's cockpit were taken two at a time as the Zeltron practically leaped into position. His helmet was tugged on, systems activated and within a few short moments that were all too well rehearsed he had taken to flight, leaving the Valiant behind.

He honestly had no idea if Joker beat him or not, but one thing was for sure, if Rogue 10 was in the air, Rogue 9 being at the ready was a guarantee.

A look around proved others had responded to the call just as quickly, already forming up in flight patterns. Flipper switched on his comm, opening it up to Joker, Phoenix, the Layla and any other of the Rogues that had managed to get their act together.

"So you just pulling our chains or is this for real?" He left the and how the hell did they find us? unspoken.

Flipper's eyes continually moved from the friendly ships to the empty space around them... The wait for Imperial presence to drop out of hyperspace and upon them all was hellishly nerve wracking.

[Tera Uolmi]

In her dress colours, with her left arm in a sling, Tera Uolmi stalked across the flight deck of the Valiant like a woman possessed. She was grounded and her frustration at being denied the chance to fly against the Empire in defense of the Wheel was being channelled into hurling orders at every living being that was buzzing around the hangar, trying to make the jarring jump from no threat to high alert.

“Get that fuel line out of there – you suit up and slower and we'll be space-dust before you're in the air – you heard the Colonel, this is not a drill!”

[Oisin Ocasta]

Oisin hauled back on his controls, staying tight on Carré's wing. His eyes narrowed in a scowl at his sensor display, wishing yet again that Colonel Vorega would let him fly CAP in his Recon-X; this whole limited sensor range thing was becoming incredibly dull.

He watched as the formation from the Berserker launched, their pace marred by the Y-Wing that took point. Fortunately, he and Rogue Eleven were unhindered, and were advancing fast on the distant shape that his eyes were rapidly resolving into the familiar form of the Layla. Thus far, no Imperial ships had shown up on their scopes, but that was scant relief: Captain Prent was hardly the kind to cry wolf.

"Legs," he called into his comm, paying reference to one of the more obscure and quirky past times that had been popular back on Alderaan way back when. "Holding tight on your tail. Any idea what the frak is going on?"

[Jason Na'moda]

It had been a while searching, wheedling his way through Rebel logs and surreptitiously searching for a place which, for all intents and purposes, wasn't supposed to exist. The Jedi wanted to hide, and that was a fair assessment of the situation, given the circumstances. But their hiding made it even more difficult for one of their own to find them. Jason had done a lot of legwork, and here he was now, beaten to it.

Deep in space, where he had been told to look by the people he had subtly asked and now as he approached, he could see the comm waves spiking. There was something going on, and it wasn't good. Ships were dissipating, flight patterns like spooked birds taking wing. This didn't look good, especially since Jason wasn't in the need to know pile. Quickly, he jammed the sub-light engines into full ahead, having dropped out of hyperspace a while back and coasted in. He was displaying a Rebel Alliance callsign and figured that the Jedi might not fire on him. Especially if they had some Clone Wars veterans with them, rare though that might be (Ka somehow managed to survive).

Glancing to his R6 unit, a recent one, the last had been blown out by a close scrape with a buttress wall (one which had sanded its head clean off), Jason got a scan for the command ship, or the one which seemed to be mustering some sort of delaying action. Opening a communication channel, he spoke quickly, using a meditative technique Ka had taught him in tandem with it, opening his mind to any jedi who might be sifting through the debris, or seeking to find if he was friend or foe. Naturally, he could close it like a trap if they started doing something he disapproved of. He rocketed towards the ragged lines and hailed the command ship. "Valiant Actual, this is Rebel Alliance Pilot Jason Na'moda in the Nexu, I'd hate to bug your pre-sortie chatter, but it looks like you might need a hand. If I join you do you mind filling me in? First time here and I'm hoping I've got the right place. He watched a formation of random ships pilot out from the shadow of the larger capital ship. Knowing that the pressure on the pilots would be large he was tempted to cut the chatter and simply form up as an extra. But they might not be happy with that and without being privy to their battle net, he could cause more than a few accidents.

So he resisted the urge and instead slowed to a halt in view of the Valiant's bridge, rotating his craft around with practised hands, eyes following Rogue Squadron as they began grouping. He wanted to be aware of any approach of whatever they were running from. Imperials, or the Dark Side, one or the other, he could almost smell it, with everyone on the ships thinking the same thing. While he had a moment, he did as every well trained Alliance soldier would do, he checked his equipment. Running diagnostics and priming his lasers at the same time as checking the scavenged and modified Mandalorian armour he wore. As far as personal protection came, you couldn't really do better. Sure it bulked you out, but once you had installed more gadgets in each armour plate than you knew what to do with, mounted cortosis weave in the metal of the greaves and gauntlets, along with various other surprises, it was pretty damn good. And his was pressurised. It wouldn't hold out for long against the vacuum, but it would help. In Jason's formidable experience, any ace up the sleeve was better than one in the hole. He watched the Rogues closely and listened for orders. Soon as he had them, then he'd get to where he needed to be.

[Lucy Gray]

Kylie ran into the hangar just after Tera. Neither of them had a fighter to fly so Kylie felt as useless as a nerf hide steak in a vegan convention. She looked around for something… anything to do. Tera was barking out orders to the techs. That’s when Kylie saw it. A Lambda Class shuttle was parked, with its wings folded up over in the corner. While it was slow and lumbering for a battle, it was armed with lasers and heavy duty shields. Right now, they didn’t know of it was just going to be a patrol ship that appeared or an entire task force of Star Destroyers. Every ship counted.

Kylie grabbed Tera by the good shoulder and pulled her towards the shuttle. She shouted at the techs as they made their way toward it.

“Prep this shuttle for launch on my authority.” Hopefully they wouldn’t stop to ask her exactly what authority she had. Then Kylie turned to Tera.

“We don’t have ships and this isn’t the best option, but it is armed. I can fly this bucket, but I need a gunner. We’ll hang back and try to help out where we can or just pick up pilots who go EV. You in?”

Kylie’s demeanor was serious. While she talked, she didn’t stop walking. By the time she asked Tera if she was in, they were already in the cockpit. Outside, techs were removing hoses and clearing her for launch. Kylie took the controls at the pilot station and began to go through an abbreviated start up sequence.

[Abarai Loki]

The panel on the wall lit up with the flick of a switch and there was a brief whine as power was transferred to both quad-cannons. Loki pulled the lever Sanis had earlier pointed out and a distant grinding sound indicated the turrets had surfaced. He took a moment to familiarise himself with the controls for both cannons; there were dials, temperature guages, power readings, and a pair of control sticks. He gave a nod.

"I am ready. Let us hope the fleet is, too."

He wrapped his hands around each stick, working fingers into the groves for a firm grip, and closed his eyes. Inverted axis. One-hundred and eighty degrees dorsal. Three-hundred and sixty lateral. Five-second bursts. All other thoughts were swept away as he sought a clarity of mind, first he looked inwards and then outwards, to the oncoming storm.

[Sanis Prent]

The color drained from my face a bit as what followed me home finally punched into realspace.

"Shit."

Dominating the space ahead was a shape nobody in the galaxy could mistake: an Imperial Star Destroyer.

"Rogue Thirteen to Valiant Actual, enemy contact. I'd give coordinates, but just look out any window."

My left hand nervously drummed along the pilot console as I kept the throttle wide open, eventually slinging us about 180 degrees, heading toward the massive capital ship.

"Cirr, double front deflectors. Put everything and the galley sink into my sublights."

At this, MARCUS sprang to life.

"Sanis, I highly recommend changing your course of action. We have no hope of survival against a star destroyer in a frontal assault."

I yanked the droid module off my console.

"Don't you have something nice to say you fatalistic tin can?"

I chucked the MARCUS module over my shoulder, hearing it clatter on the floor behind me. He was right though, I felt a burning hole in my stomach as we thundered ahead towards a problem I didn't know my way out of.

[Lowrook]

The space in front of the Berserker went from the blackness of space to the stark whiteness of Imperial Death. An Imperial Class Star Destroyer had found them. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, the Berserker was right on plane with the bridge tower. Thinking quickly, Captain Brandt acted. He knew that there was a few seconds between arrival in real space and activating shields.

“FIRE!!!”

The Berserker and accompanying fighters quickly fired on the command bridge. Streaks of Turbolaser Fire and a dozen torpedoes shot out, instantly covering the distance between them and the bridge.

“Come on… come on…” muttered Brandt. This first attack was crucial. If the barrage was quick enough, it would damage their bridge and possibly their sensors. While they would recover, it would take time to get the auxiliary bridge up and running and transfer commands. Time that the Jedi could use to get away. If the CO was quicker, then the shields would be up and their first barrage would just slam into the shields. While it would deplete some of the energy in them, it would become a slugging match and that was something the Imperials would win. It would be the equivalent of a Rancor in a pen with 5 Gamoreans.

“Madclaw Flight, this is Berserker, set course for their communcations array. If we can’t destroy them, then maybe we can make them mute so backup doesn’t arrive.”

“Copy that Berserker. We’re on it.”

The grimness in pilot’s voice was mirrored on Brandt’s face. Three fighters against an ISD and there fighters which were sure to launch was a suicide mission. But if they could destroy their communications, then the Wheel could jump out without the ISD reporting their position to waiting Imperial forces.

The missiles got closer.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The transition out of hyperspace to realspace was always a bit of a foray into the unknown, and doubly so in a potential combat approach. You needed a second or two out of the maelstrom to gain your bearings.

This particular jump, it was a luxury that Captain Wygraant and the Star Destroyer Decimator did not have.

"Danger close! Evasives!"

"Shields! Shields!"

The deflector technician in the bridge pit was blessed with a quick hand to even cut off half the Berserker's salvo, but not before the turbolaser fire from the smaller picket craft stitched across the lower section of the command tower's superstructure. Sparks were a nearly unheard-of malady on a Star Destroyer's bridge, much less the unseemly sight of an Imperial Captain actually stumbling from the effects of enemy fire on his ship. Yet both indignities were suffered, as Wygraant nearly dropped to a knee on the bridge catwalk, and a few terminals below him sputtered.

With a disdainful frown, Captain Wygraant righted himself, tugging down crisply at the hem of his officer's coat to give it a proper adjustment.

"Helm, for future reference 'put us on top of their position' is more a figure of speech. Damage status?"

A crewer beneath him looked up, his information condensed into a tight stream of dialogue as he addressed his captain.

"Minor hull breach at deck 38. Missile damage to HoloNet arrays."

Rolth's brow furrowed.

"Nevermind reinforcements then. ComScan, give me a reading of this motley assortment of Rebel ships. Flight Commander, prepare all squadrons for deployment."

He looked forward to the observation windows, the figure of the Berserker still looming large directly ahead, now dumping its weapons furiously against Decimator's active shields.

"Battery control, swat that nuissance off of our vector."

Decimator's double and quad heavy turbolaser batteries lined up on Berserker unleashing a close-ranged fusilade against the much smaller picket craft, as the Imperial warship began to adjust its trajectory against the Rebel fleet to better address the terms of the engagement.

[Jaden Luka]

The colour drained from Jaden's face.

When the situation had kicked off, Jaden had been lingering like a loose end on the bridge, and had quickly plunged into aiding the crew in coordinating with the various scattered assortments of fighters scrambling from all corners of their rag-tag fugitive fleet, and in preparing the civilian ships to make their escape.

As a security measure - to reduce the risk of them being leaked in the meantime - the emergency jump vectors were pre-calculated, but not transmitted to the fleet until it was absolutely necessary. Alas, the Star Destroyer, whether by intentional design or accidental fluke, had apperated far too close to their intended exit vector; recalculating coordinates for an entire fleet formation was an absolutely mammoth task.

He risked a glance at the tactical display, and watched indicators inform him that the Berserker, one of the few other armed ships in the fleet, had opened fire. While granted, trying to hit the Star Destroyer before she raised shields was a shrewd move - and one that the Valiant would no doubt have made herself, had she been in range - it had the adverse affect of making the Berserker the sole initial focus of the Imperial's initial retaliation.

Worse still, the destroyer - Decimator, the aurebesh label on the tactical display informed him - was scrambling fighters. An Impstar carried six squadrons; and while he had every confidence in the Rogues, the Valkyries, and the Layla, those odds weren't looking even remotely friendly.

At least, he mused, They didn't bring escorts. I guess that's something.

"All fighters, this is Valiant," he spoke, slipping a comlink headset over his ear, and exchanging a brief glance with Leela to confirm she didn't mind him stepping up. "This isn't about glory or victory today; this is about keeping that destroyer and those ships away from this convoy, long enough for us to jump the hell out of here. Nothing fancy; no heroics."

A grim smile crossed his features. "Squints and eyeballs are inbound. Force be with you all."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Cirr, double front deflectors. Put everything and the galley sink into my sublights."


Cirr, mouth agape at the comm box, could only manage to do what was asked, allocating power to prepare for...what? Getting pulverized?

"He's jinsane!"

Worry twisted Cirr's features as he worked in cramped quarters, with Akrabbim, the crazy illusionist wizard, standing beside him.

With barely enough time to slip out of his jacket and blood-soaked shirt, Cirr slapped a rudimentary bandage around his chest before they pulled out of hyperspace. He wore that, and a sleeveless shirt draped over that which was already starting to moisten with perspiration as Cirr hunched over a console to crunch the power requirements.

"No prroblem. Just attackjing a Starr Destrroyerr. Bjiggest thjing we've everr seen. No prressurre..."

His ears hung low at the thought.

Layla thundered ahead, ducking low where Berserker pressed high, and ran the gauntlet along the massive ventral hull of Decimator as anti-starfighter batteries here and there opened fire. To Sanis's credit, he was able to shake and bake past a lot of the point defense, at last rocketing toward an emerging vanguard squadron of TIE Interceptors that were probably more intent on clearing their moorings than immediately expecting to dodge a furious quad laser hit and run.

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim looks around in surprise as Sanis' comments come blaring across the comm. He stands still listening, unsure of what to do. He hasn't been on a ship of any sort in years, and even then he was never what you'd call an impressive pilot. But when the term "Star Destroyer" comes up, he perks up immediately.

Images of the last Star Destroyer he ever saw comes to mind. He remembers the giant wedge blocking out the sky, plunging the city in which he and his Master were hiding into a false night. That was the last time he had ever seen his Master. While Akrabbim hid, his teacher and protector had attempted to hold off the Imps. He fought well, but no man, no matter how skilled, can destroy an entire army. He fell, never to rise again.

Since that day, Akrabbim had dreaded seeing one of those floating monstrosities. But instead of the fear he felt last time, he begins to feel a sense of elation, of possibility. He is no longer the apprentice. He is a battle-hardened Master in his own right. And though it may be a terribly non-Jedi way of thinking, he can't get the idea of payback out of his head.

He grabs Cirrsseeto by the front of his shirt, staring the felinoid in the face. "Star Destroyer! You did say Star Destroyer, right?" He stares into Cirr's eyes, his own blazing in near fever. Too impatient to wait for an answer, he darts off to the cockpit.

Once he arrives, his eyes lock onto the giant ship. As a plan starts forming in his mind, his mouth breaks into a wide, nearly mad grin. He turns toward Sanis, a glint in his eye, arm pointing out the front window directly at the Imperial ship.

"I've got a plan. I'm gonna steal me a ship."

[Lowrook]

As Brandt saw the salvo strike the Decimator, he knew that it was too little. The majority of the shots got through, but it wasn’t enough. Now, the Decimator, which seemed to fill up the entire forward viewport, opened fire on the Berserker.

“Scatter the fighters. Try to come around behind the Decimator and attack their engines.”

Brandt knew that while the Star Destroyers had impressive firepower, most of it was concentrated in the forward away. Hardly anything was aimed toward the aft of the ship. The problem with that was that the Berserker was also separating itself more from the fleet.

Unfortunately for the Berserker, they were in that forward array. Turbolaser fire slammed into the small gunship, almost bringing it to a complete halt. The bridge was shook by the blast. Brandt held onto the railing to keep himself from flying against the back wall.

Fortunately, the Security Officer had the necessary brain cells to immediately transfer all power to the forward shields from everywhere else in the ship. The shield glowed as they bled away the turbolaser power, but it didn’t hold. More and more turbolaser fire was getting through holes in the shields. A ragged hole was torn in the flank of the Berserker as it managed to move past the Decimator.

Brandt wiped his hand across his forehead. Blood was dripping down. He ripped off a sleeve of his shirt and wrapped it around his head.

“Shalla order the fighters to concentrate on the sensor array. Shalla!?”

Shalla didn’t respond. She was slumped over her console, dead. A portion of her console had exploded in her face, sending shards blowing through her face like the rounds of a slugthrower.

Inside Brandt felt both a rage and a gaping hole of loss. Though it wasn’t advertised, Shalla and Brandt had been a item since they had started crewing for Lowrook.

“Maneuver…” Brandt’s voice broke. He coughed through the lump tightening in his throat. “Maneuver us around to face our best side towards the Decimator. Concentrate all power to shields and weapons.”

“Sir, shouldn’t we be getting out of here?”

The look that Brandt gave said it all. They were going to leave unless the Jedi were already away.

The Berserker, now hovering in the aft of the Decimator, opened fire on the engines.

On the sensors, Madclaw 3, the Y-Wing bomber disappeared. An explosion registered on the sensors. The bomber had been damaged by an ion blast. It had slammed into the starboard side of the command tower near one of the shield generators.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Hot on the trail of the Layla was Rogue Squadron's Three Flight, with Jamo Jakatta on point. His X-Wing twitched left and right as the cannons of the Imperial attack squadrons spat volleys of red laser-fire across the blackness of space. The transition from inaction to action was sudden, but like all members of Rogue Squadron, Joker was up to the challenge. Adrenaline was pumping through his system, sharpening reflexes that had been honed by years at the controls of a star-fighter.

“Stay tight, Three Flight. The moment they drive a wedge between us-” Not pun intended, he thought, with a sharp glance at the Star Destroyer. “Is the moment we're space-dust.”

[Tera Uolmi]

Tera fell into the gunners chair and with her good arm, tugged open the buttons at his collar. In a move that would have horrified the med-droids who had fitted her brace, she slipped her left arm out of its sling and flexed her stiff fingers, taking hold of the gun turret controls.

“Get us in the air, Spoon.”

[Lucy Gray]

Kylie grinned and gunned the repulsorlifts of the shuttle. It quickly raised off the hangar deck and rotated to face the hangar door opening. Out in space, they could make out the shape of the ISD. Pinpricks of light indicated that a fight was already underway, but it hard to determine who was out there. The lack of X-Wings in the hangar meant that Rogue Squadron was already inbound.

Kylie took the shuttle out and lowered her wings. She banked towards the ISD, but didn’t make for it as fast as she could. Though the shuttle sported heavy duty shields and lasers, and the Ties she would go up against didn’t have shields, they were far faster and more agile. The fact that they were facing 6 to 1 odds already on the fighters made her hold back and not engage in the dog fight. Instead, she sent most of the energy to the lasers.

“Lazer's powered up. We should be within range of the Ties in 20 seconds. In range of ISD in 40.”

Unless the ISD Captain held back his fighters and screened them. There would be a range when the fighters would be outside the protection of the Decimator. That would be when Kylie would engage.

The sensors showed greater detail on the battle. The Berserker was in the aft of the ISD, targeting its engines. The Layla was underneath the ship, looking to fire on the ties as they emerged. Then Rogue squadron was engaging the fighters as well.

[Carré Inirial]

"Lucky coming in hot like this means he was followed, Fluffy...and by his reaction, not by something small, either." Carré replied over the comm, flicking a bit of humor at Sin in response to his own. It was one of the ways the two Alderaanian pilots had gotten used to one another. There was alot to be said for flying with someone from 'home', when that home had been disintegrated.

She'd have replied to Flipper if she could have, but the sight of the Decimator resolving in her viewport froze her voice in her throat. Emerald eyes narrowed as her fingers moved over the controls and Fiver chittered madly in her ear, only increasing his volume and pace when she didn't respond.


“Stay tight, Three Flight. The moment they drive a wedge between us-” Not pun intended, he thought, with a sharp glance at the Star Destroyer. “Is the moment we're space-dust.”

"You heard him, Echo...keep in tight and don't break the formation. We'll last longer if we stick together." she said crisply as soon as her voice would allow it. She didn't like their odds against the ISD and the complement of six squadrons they usually carried...but if it meant the convoy would get away, then odds be damned.

[Abarai Loki]

The cockpit flickered a brilliant green from the onslaught of laser fire, narrowly avoided as the Layla weaved and lurched like a persistant moth drawn ever closer to the flame. Loki shut it out and waited, each eye locked on the blank targeting screens, eager fingers coiling tight around the control sticks. Then, amidst the mighty barks of ventral turbolasers came a long haunting wail; the unmistakeable battle cry of the twin ion engines. And surely, if Loki were to cast a glance beyond the viewport they would be seen dipping from the main hangar two-by-two, a graceful prelude to this dreadful space ballet.

One of the screens came to life with an urgent beep-beep-beep, arrows in the corners of the targeting window edged inwards, closing in on a small red H which bobbed delicately and dared to flutter to the edge of the screen. The second computer flashed as another alien image swept into view. Loki paused for a fraction of a second and allowed a soft sigh to escape his lips. Then the controls sticks squeaked and groaned under sudden brute force and the meandering little blips swept back into the centre of each screen, neatly speared by four hungry arrows. He squeezed the triggers and both of the Layla's quad-canons thundered dangerously across the bow. One. Two. A red shimmer just beyond the viewport like the first hint of sunrise. Three. Four. A second burst of light, splashing crimson and gold into the cockpit. Five seconds, and Loki eased off the triggers.

And with two of their comrades already struck from the fight, the first wave of fighters dispersed in a panic, showing their backs to the Layla and the rest of the Rogues. It was only then, as he unleashed a second barrage of fire on the scattering eyeballs, that Loki noticed Akrabbim's presence behind him and it was only then that he realised just how thin his patience had worn. It seemed this time the lunatic had designs on stealing a Star Destroyer. His face twisted with utter annoyance.

"Then I recommend flushing yourself out the airlock! You will find, at this speed, you'll be onboard in no time!"

[Sanis Prent]

"Where'd you learn to shoot, kid? I'd hire you for a gunner if I could put up with you for more than a day!"

Layla banked away from the scattered swarm, followed closely behind by Three Flight, pushing as much advantage as they could from the chaos they caused by throttling into the TIE vanguard. With danger all around, Cirr re-angled the deflectors in more of a continuous protection pattern. Going that way again was going to be a lot harder the second time.

"Joker, we may get one more pass through their ranks, but it's gonna get thick real fast! Berserker's getting hammered, we gotta cut her loose if we can."

Layla bucked hard, as a squint raked a couple of shots across the deflectors. I endured a few bursts of Cizeri cursing from the voxcomm, as Cirr no-doubt had things to say about the quality of my piloting and the fact that my parents were never married.

"Screw the paint job you crybaby, we're coming out of this one ugly and we'll deal with it later!"

Screaming dangerously close to Decimator's ion reactor superstructure, I banked away as I headed for the edge of the engine wash, using the cavitation to give an extra push as I began a loop around. At Akrabbim's lunatic comment, I glared back at him the same as Loki.

"Why don't you up and miracle yourself on the ship then, you crazy wizard!"

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Captain Wygraant!"

Flight Commander Toth climbed the small spill of stairs up to the command catwalk, extending a datapad to the Star Destroyer skipper.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Fighter Squadron Auresh is taking heavy losses on point. You might want to see this."

The Captain looked at the datapad, and the image on it. Caught in freeze frame was the familiar hull of an X-Wing fighter. More important were the symbols and Aurabesh on it's hull plating.

"Rogue Squadron? The Rogue Squadron?"

Toth looked as baffled as his executive did.

"Unless this is a cosmic practical joke, it seems to be the case."

Wygraant passed the datapad back, stepping closer to the viewport on his bridge. What the hell was Rogue Squadron doing in this galactic backwater, with a light scout flotilla at best? The Imperial Captain wrung his hands in thought.

"Overwhelm them, Toth. They're only one squadron against our many."

He watched the battle go quite badly for Berserker, though the gunship did eventually manage to flank them.

"Nevermind the gunship, have the bombers finish that mess. Bring us within bombardment range of the Mon Calimari pocket carrier. I want it disabled. There's something damn peculiar about this fleet, and I want to get to the bottom of it."

Decimator trundled ahead in earnest, it's guns largely silent but for the occasional anti-starfighter battery as it moved upon Valiant

"What of the Action VI transport, Captain?"

One of his junior tactical officers made a minor faux pas in directing his curiosity directly to the top, but nevermind that. Captain Wygraant scoffed.

"It's a transport. No doubt some supplies or such. We'll deal with it in turn."

[Akrabbim]

He had forgotten how exhilarating it is to be in the midst of a fight. Pitting the mind and body against an equally equipped foe... there's nothing like it in the universe. Not that Akrabbim hadn't seen his fair share of battle on his icy hiding place, but... it just wasn't the same. The mindless beasts are too easy to distract, to out-think. His mind races with the possibilities as he stares, eyes wide, out the view screen. He hears the kid's sarcastic comments to his plan.

"Listen, punk, I don't wanna hear any more of your... "

Akrabbim's voice trails off into nothingness, eyes staring off into space as his mind starts cranking. He re-visits Loki's facetious suggestion, and begins to see possibilities. If nothing else, at least it's the last way someone would expect their ship to be infiltrated. All he would need is a suit. While invisible, it should be easy enough to slip inside the hangar. The mag shields only hold in atmosphere.

"You know, kid, you may actually be onto something there. Sanis... got a suit I could borrow?"

[Jason Na'moda]

Jason saw the gigantic wedge appear out of no where and witnessed the volleys of fire that erupted immediately from the scrambling defences. The convoy was on its way but they didn't look clear yet. Adjusting the Electrum headset around his forehead, he accelerated, deciding that he must have been ignored in the panic, although he still played the message on a minor channel if anyone felt like listening. He saw a squadron lead the charge, recognising their markings instantly. "R6, plot trajectories of friendly ships bearing on hyperspace, I'm not going to lose them now that I'm this close. And raise a channel to Rogue Squadron while you're at it." He didn't have time to check whether Rogue Leader was on the field but instead checked his instruments while the droid made some musical noises as it set to work and Jason's brow creased with concentration. They were gunning their engines directly into the TIE flock. Horrendous odds in fact.

With a bleep, R6 did better than just the Rogues and got him an open channel to the Layla as well. "Rogues and Layla, this is the Nexu, mind if I join your channel? I feel a bit left out." He commented drily, shifting the controls forward to overlap shields with Three flight. Concentrating, his thumb hovered over the missile launch trigger, waiting for that critical point where the force told him he would be able to save the lives of himself and the others around him with one critical strike. It twitched.

Jason launched a single Concussion Missile, which rocketed ahead of the group before smashing into a TIE defender. The resulting explosion took out the TIE and most of the ships around it. With that he used his lasers, deciding to save the others for use on the Impstar. He tried to remember the times he had looked over their schematics, wondering if this particular model had any blind spots he could sit in and use. He sprayed lasers from the cannons and watched several explosions of less competent pilots, the audio system compensating for the lack of sound in space. "So what's the plan?" He asked through gritted teeth, fighting slight particle drag as he was forced to barrel roll to avoid the flaming wreck of a TIE Interceptor.

[Sanis Prent]

"I've got one, what do you plan on doing? Walking there?"

The ship bucked again as I came about, flying even with Phoenix as Joker slipped to point position. Akrabbim was damaging my calm.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in a pretty nasty brawl here. Not exactly time for a walk. You wanna help? Get down there and turn wrenches with Cirr!"

Another few flashes of light signaled a near-miss from a TIE-Int, coming the other way. We were headed back into the debarkation vector of those TIE squadrons, and this time they were pissed off. Another voice came in on my comm.

"Busy bit of sky over here...this is Rogue Thirteen, I catch your signal Nexu."

Who was this guy? I wasn't in the least bit interested in sparing the time to find out. Any help was good help. On my tactical display, a shuttle punched ahead, it's IFF transponder flicking to the same set that Spoon used.

"Spoon, Razor, we picked up a friend. Berserker's getting lit up, any chance you can run interference and bring our tagalong with you? My scope shows bombers on vector."

A few direct blasts hit us from above.

"Shit!"

Loki was hard at work swatting TIEs, no sense in blaming him for effort. But our cup was beginning to run over.

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim blatantly ignores the giant firefight outside. He's never been that great of a pilot, and he's less than useless as a mechanic. He's a decent shot, but Loki seems to have that under control. Crazy though his plan may be, he's sure that he can be the most use on the inside of the enemy ship, not trapped here on this bucket.

"Sanis, look, I just need you to-"

He is cut off by various evasive maneuvers, near-misses, choice words from Sanis... frankly, Akrabbim is beginning to feel a bit ignored. He concentrates for a bit, summoning up a cloaking illusion for the ship. It's nothing fancy, but out in the middle of nowhere like this, a generic starry field motif is more than enough to render the ship basically invisible. He turns back to Sanis, nearly out of patience.

"There, sparky. Now you're covered. So sit still and listen! I've got a plan."

He pulls out a small device, which looks like an odd communicator. It's roughly the right shape, but has no apparent microphone.

"Check this out... I had it made a while back. You need to get me a message, send out a broad-band signal to no one in particular. It picks up on certain frequencies in the transmissions. That way, you can get a message to me without anyone knowing who's listening to it. I'll make sure to upload the various codes before I go."

He plops down in the seat next to Sanis, a gleam in his eye as he outlines the plan.

"Look, it's simple. All I need you to do is get near that great big lump and toss me out. I'll walk from wherever I land into the hangar. From there, it's open season on Imps! Trust me, I've a ton o' ideas as to how to get their panties in a knot. And if you need me, I'll be your ace in the hole. Otherwise, I'm just there to be the biggest nuisance I can be."

He pauses to let the idea sink in. And to allow Sanis the time to perform menial tasks, such as dodging fighters and trying not to die.

"Come on... what do you have to lose, other than a suit?"

[Lowrook]

Lowrook could feel the strain of the battle on the crew of the Berserker. He felt the death of Shalla, and he took it hard. He was close to everyone on the ship and the loss of each one was important to him.

So far the ISD was being distracted by the Berserker, the Layla, and Rogue Squadron, but that wouldn’t last long. Lowrook had to give them something else to deal with; either a bigger threat… or a bigger target. Taking a deep, he summoned more energy from the Force. Then he began to probe the mind of the Captain of the Decimator. Luckily, the Imperials still used mostly humans to crew their ships, so it was easier to create an illusion for one species than it was for several. He thought back to the images of the last battle at Endor that he had seen and began to conjure up images of the Mon Cal Cruisers that arrived. Concentrating, he began to project three of the cruisers arriving in a triangle around the Decimator.

Lowrook was now shaking, exerting more energy than he had in a long time. Still he had been trained in how to do illusions… he just hoped that they would stay around long enough for the ships of the Wheel to get away.

Out in front of the ISD Decimator… or so the bridge crew thought three Mon Cal Star Cruisers appeared. While they didn’t open fire immediately, they did move to intercept the Imperial warship.

[Iyar Thiled]

Things like what he was seeing were what made Iyar a bit nervous around the Jedi. Yeah they were important people, most of them nice enough, but when they could magically make the Layla vanish and somehow make a bunch of Mon Cal Cruises appear... well that was just weird. Not to mention when Rogue 13 had gone off visual but remained on radar it caused a temporary sense of panic, making Flipper and a few other pilots wonder if they'd all missed the telltale light show that meant the Layla and her crew hadn't quite lived up to their callsign.

"Hey Nexu, when you get back with your Jedi buddies, would you kindly tell them to start giving us a heads up before they pull that sort of thing? Freaking out the mortals, folks."

Flipper knew the statement came off far more aggravated than he normally would have spoken, but considering he was also in the process of turning another eyeball into space dust, he figured it could be forgiven.

"Ok, I'm not a Corellian so maybe I'm not seeing the fun here, but I think this grossly outnumbered thing is getting a wee bit old. That fleet ready to jump out of here yet or what?"

[Jamo Jakatta]

“Mother of pearl!”

Jamo swore, his eyes flicking between the star-scape ahead and his heads up display. In a matter of seconds, the battlefield had transformed... and yet, it had not. Rogue Thirteen had vanished from view, but Jakatta's targetting computer was still registering the freighters presence. Amidst the constant hail of blasterfire, the hows and the whys were too much for Joker to wrap his brain around, so he focused on what he could understand and – ultimately – what the squadron was trying to achieve.

“Valiant Actual, this is Joker, requesting sitrep. Do we have ETA for full fleet jump?”

[Rolth Wygraant]

Klaxons lit up the bridge as his pit officers were scrambling with new commscan data.

"Captain, enemy capital ships have broken into realspace, bearing zero-zero-nine mark zero-two-zero!"

Wygraant turned to see the threat, and was greeted with the sight of three Alliance MC-80 Star Cruisers. It seemed the Rebels had been heavily reinforced. He weighed his options, which had suddenly become sparse.

"Angle our approach against the pocket carrier, and adjust attack to starboard-side. Put the convoy between us and the Star Cruisers."

"We're not retreating, sir?"

Wygraant nearly bored a hole through his junior helmsman with an incredulous scowl.

"You gravely underestimate our chances. We may be outnumbered, but we're still all Star Destroyer men, Lieutenant. We're made of better stuff than to just retreat without giving them a good reminder of what we're capable of."

He stepped away to a holoprojector displaying the terms of the engagement as it was now understood. Decimator flattened its angle of approach against Valiant and the rest of the small Rebel scout flotilla, all the while being defended by TIE squadrons against what was allegedly Rogue Squadron. On their aft quarter, the gunship Berserker continued to harass their weak side to varying degrees of ineffectual results. Joining the Captain at the holoprojector was the Flight Commander.

"Commander, re-route your bomber squadron away from Berserker, under escort by Cresh squadron, to engage those Star Cruisers."

The Flight Commander frowned, an expression made more severe by his neatly-trimmed moustache.

"Their chances won't be great against three Star Cruisers, Captain."

"True, but good enough chances to delay the cruisers."

Wygrant pointed to the Action VI transport, Whaladon.

"With us closing distance on the scout flotilla, go ahead and divert Esk squadron to attack this freighter. We may be able to capture it outright before forced to withdraw."

[Abarai Loki]

Sometimes there was wisdom in ignorance. So Loki left Sanis to deal with the deranged illusionist while he poured his energy into blasting enemy ships out of the ether. He clung to the control sticks like lifelines and swayed in tandem with the spray of lasers, long lost to the relentless rythmn of battle. And yet, with every flight of fighters birthed from the Decimator, the engagement was fast becoming a desperate struggle for survival. The hornet's nest stirred and all they could do was swat blindly into the swarm.

On some level he was aware of the unnatural shroud hiding them from enemy eyes, the twinge at the back of his mind a by-product of the conjurer's magic, but it didn't take a Jedi to realise the turbulance was gone. In his wisdom, Sanis Prent chose to subtract power from the innertial dampeners to better serve shields and other, more critical, systems. Undoubtedly a wise decision given the circumstances but, despite his bristling disapproval of practically everything the illusionist has to say or do, even Loki couldn't deny his relief at being able to man the quad-canons without the Layla quaking from every glancing blow. Evidently, invisibility had its advantages.

Hunter's eyes zeroed in on an Interceptor rolling into position behind Joker and, righting his aim, Loki let loose the primary ventral canon. Under a torrent of laser fire, the enemy ship lost a solar panel, it spiralled wildly into the dark and forced an unsuspecting wingman off course. Sucking in a breath, the young Jedi watched as the second Interceptor banked hard to starboard, sending itself careening directly into the Layla's invisible path. He wrenched the control sticks and squeezed, quad-canons trumpeting doom as he chased his faceless foe to a fiery end.

And once the Layla punched through the blazing sphere, Loki dared to cast Sanis a knowing glance across when, instead, a single red light caught his attention. The cockpit buzzed in warning and Loki narrowed his eyes to catch words in the ominous crimson glow:

MISSILE LOCK

[Lowrook]

== Berserker ==
== Bridge ==

"Damages... Report!"

Captain Brandt was picking himself off the bridge floor again. This time, smoke was pouring out of several of the consoles and the forward bridge viewport was cracked. The last missile barrage from the Tie Bombers had punched through the shields and slammed into the starboard flank of the ship. It had ripped a hole in the side of the ship that an X-Wing could fly through. Weapons were down and even if they could fire, they didn't have enough to get through the more powerful shields of the Decimator.

No one answered Brandt. He looked around the bridge... everyone was dead. With the next pass the Berserker would be space dust. Stumbling down the ramp he stood over Shalla's body and looked at the controls. The hyperdrive was shot. There was no leaving. Grim determination filled Brandt. If he was captured, he would be tortured into revealing who was on the ships. He couldn't allow that. With one last act, he put all power into the engines and aimed toward the engines of the ISD. He felt Lowrook touch his mind, realizing what he was going to do.

The Berserker jumped forward, raging fires internally eating away at the containment field of the reactor. Brandt shut it the containment field. The more destruction, the better.

== Whaladon ==

Lowrook felt a sadness wash over him. A sadness of the loss of his crew and friends... and a sadness of what he was about to do to help save the Wheel.

He reached out with the Force, through the space and found the officer in charge of the shields. With the Force, he crushed the officer's throat, killing him. Then he used the Force to destroy the console.

While there were redundent systems, the shields would be down just enough to let the Berserker through. It should give the Wheel enough time to get out of here.

[Jaden Luka]

"Valiant Actual, this is Joker, requesting sitrep. Do we have ETA for full fleet jump?"

Teeth grated against teeth as his jaw clenched. The bridge of the Valiant was alive with frantic chatter, as officers scattered across the various consoles fired reports back and forth at each other. In the midsts of it all, Jaden stood, coordinating the Wheel's scant assortment of fighters in their battle against the Decimator, and it's numerically overwhelming fighters. Those numbers were shrinking, the Rogues and Valkyries doing a fantastic job of showing off the advantages of Rebel fighters over their Imperial counterparts; and hell, Razor and Spoon were in a frakking shuttle, and they were still handing slagged eyeballs back to the Imperials in clouds. But the numbers were against them, and though Jaden's Corellian blood was loathed to admit it, things weren't looking good.

ETA? He glanced at Leela, across on the other side of the bridge, wrestling to rally the rag-tag members of the Wheel into some semblance of order. She shook her head, a grim smile adorning her features; Jaden cursed under his breath in response. The Wheel was such an unwieldy beast; most of the ships were old, and without enough space on the Valiant or the Whaledon to land them, many were in a severe state of disrepair. Coordinating a mass jump to ensure that everyone would arrive in the right location, without crashing into each other was hard enough; managing to get half these ships to even jump in the first place - let alone within a few short minutes - made the task nigh impossible under the circumstances.

Good job we've got Rogue Squadron watching our backs, he mused. Impossible is our speciality.

Hand raising to his headset, he pushed the comlink control to respond to Jamo's query. "That's a negative, Joker," he muttered back. "Looks like we need all the time you can buy us."

[Sanis Prent]

"Missile lock?!"

I did the thing I was hard-wired to do in any circumstance that involved a lock, which was to kick Layla into the wildest evasive I could manage.

"Akrabbim you son of a bitch, how are they locking missiles on us!"

Of course, it occurred to me after the fact that even with us being visually shrouded, we were still plenty visible on sensors and IFF's.

"Joker, hang back, I got a tail on me."

I pushed hard again, driving Layla right into the thick of the debarking TIE squadrons, which were now starting to disperse and to fully engage Rogue and Valkyrie squadrons.

"Gonna get close and see if we can get one of those eyeballs to eat this missile in my engine wash. Either way, I think we're about to get our tailfeathers a little cooked, hang on!"

Diving through the swarming fighters really sucked this time. I cleared the lane with a few proton torpedoes, but even then, we were flying into the thick of it. Loki was furiously hammering away at the TIEs. The ship shook hard, nearly pitching us out of our seats, then an overhead console sparked, raining down a few embers as the lights dimmed.

"Just lost half of our rear deflector on that...but it looks like we missed the worst of that missile."

Flattening out our upwards ascent, I got us about as close to the Decimator's main hangar superstructure as I ever wanted to be. Even here, I half expected another flight of TIE's to vape me, or worse, to get pulled in by a tractor beam.

"Ak, you've got sixty seconds. I'm not waiting for sixty one."

[Jason Na'moda]

Jason kept pace with the others, holding formation and maintaining the kill zone in and around them. He smiled at the comment from Flipper and replied swiftly, sparing some focus from the task at hand. "I'll have a chat with them. Won't promise anything though." He felt a touch through the force and risked a glimpse back at the Whaladon, where the presence was emanating from. Interesting. Opening his mind to Lowrook, he focused again on flying, trying to get the sense of the Battle network the Jedi Master had set up through the force.

One look at his displays also told him that the Berserker was moving out of position and gathering speed, heading directly towards the Impstar. A glancing hit on his port wing shook the Nexu and forced Jason's mind back on the task. He responded quickly, blowing the viewport out of the offending TIE. "Rogues." He said, turning side on to avoid a laser. "I think the Berserker is throwing in the towel. And taking part of the Impstar with her. If we form up behind her then we've got some cover from the Star Destroyer." They were coming in close to the Destroyer now. The fact that they had survived this long was a testament to all their skills as pilots. Watching the blip on his monitor that was the Layla as Sanis took her through her paces. He considered flying down to join them, maybe put a couple of torps through the hanger while he was at it. Instead he remained in the flyby and angled his targeting computer, before launching two concussion missiles at the Star Destroyer's bridge. He felt a wave of sadness from Lowrook, but didn't have any time to pay it attention as attacks were coming from all sides and he was as hard pressed as the rest of Rogue Squadron.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Like a shoal of dagger-fish swimming with a single purpose, one of the TIE squadron's suddenly veered off-course and began a charge towards the Whaladon. At that moment, his commlink buzzed with chatter.

"That's a negative, Joker. Looks like we need all the time you can buy us."

"Joker, hang back, I got a tail on me."

"Rogues. I think the Berserker is throwing in the towel. And taking part of the Impstar with her. If we form up behind her then we've got some cover from the Star Destroyer."

The lines of battle shifted in Joker's minds eye. He didn't even register who the last voice was as he made a quick check of his display, relieved to see that at least Three Flight was intact. Now all they had to do was make sure that the Berseker, the Layla and the Whaladon didn't get blown to Stars' End.

Without warning, he threw Rogue Nine into a one-eighty end-over-end turn and gunned towards the Whaladon at maximum throttle. If they were quick off the mark, they could intercept Esk squadron before the TIEs made it within firing distance. Vaping an entire squadron wasn't beyond the capabilities of Three Flight but doing it before any of the TIEs could get off a shot at the virtually defenseless Whaladon? Well, that was where some of Rogue Squadron's fabled 'good luck' would come in handy.

[Iyar Thiled]

The chatter was almost as chaotic as the battlefield, everyone wanting something. Well, maybe not so much as wanting as needing. But when Joker moved, he made the decision for the rest of three flight. They were there to protect The Wheel, and that made stopping that group of TIEs headed for The Whaladon top priority.

Flipper followed suit, knowing that Phoenix and Echo wouldn't be too far behind. At least, he hoped they wouldn't be. The Layla would have to hold her own for now, hopefully the Nexu would lend a hand there rather than following Three Flight. The four rogues knew each other enough to be able to handle the squadron of TIEs, Flipper wasn't so sure how an unknown ship, though trying to help, might have factored into that.

"Never a dull moment! Can we do this every weekend?" The statement was emphasized as Three-Flight caught up with the stragglers from Esk and Flipper lit one up, sending it spiraling out of control for a moment before the TIE blew apart.

[Lucy Gray]

Kylie danced the shuttle around, careful not to enter the most dangerous spots of the battle. From her vantage point, they could acquire targets and fire, and Tera was doing a remarkable job at it.

Then things went to the crapper. An entire squadron of Ties broke off from the Decimator and headed toward the Whaldon. All of the Rebel fighters were out and engaged, but some seemed to be heading on an intercept. The most unfortunate thing was that there was one ship perfectly placed to intercept the Ties....

And Kylie was flying it.

"Sithin' Granny Asses. Looks like we are earning our pay today Tera. I'm boosting power to the shields. We are going to take down as many as we can and try to break up their formation."

Kylie pulled back on the controls. The shuttle rose higher than the Ties, but still stayed directly in front of them. "I'm going to swoop down on them like a pregnant hawkbat." She looked over at Tera. "Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea. When we get back, I'll get you that drink I owe you."

[Tera Uolmi]

The swing and tilt of the gun turret was smoother than Tera had expected. Even with only one arm at full strength, she had no trouble maneuvering the cannon, spraying volley after volley of laser-fire into the battlefield. The shuttle's kill-count wouldn't have been the highest but they were doing a damn good job of keeping the Imps on their toes, forcing them to scatter out of formation. An uneasy part of Tera was desperate to get her hands on the ships controls, though she kept telling herself that she would be safer in Archer's hands than in her own.

“Drinks, plural,” she barked out, bringing the turret to bear against the oncoming squadron of TIEs that were hell-bent on swarming over the Whaladon.

[Akrabbim]

He shrugs as the missile hits the back shields, ignoring Sanis' angry look.

"I made you invisible, not intangible. What do you think I am, a wizard?"

Once Sanis cools down and offers a sixty-second window, the mad gleam returns to his eye. He quickly enters codes into the computer, listing out several generic signals such as "Get out now", "We need help", etc. He hops up as soon as he is finished, rushing toward the airlock. His ability with Force Speed may not be on par with Loki's, but when he's properly motivated, he's little more than a blur.

Once he's donned the suit, he slaps the comm on his suit.

"I'm gone, Sanis... and thanks for the ride, muchacho. I'll keep you covered for a couple more minutes, but I'd head outta Dodge if I were you. Have fun, and call if you need me!"

He hops into the airlock. As soon as the door slams shut behind him, he blows the exit door, ignoring the warnings to vent the air first. The sudden depressurization sends him flying toward the giant Imperial vessel. Even though it's highly unlikely that anyone would see, much less expect his unorthodox landing, no reason to take chances. He coats himself with an illusion of invisibility as he goes flying. His mad laughter cackles through his suit's comm as he gleefully descends, mind racing with all manner of destructive plans. If nothing else, Akrabbim is going to have the time of his life.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Aaaggghhhkkkkk!!!"

The sound of a man gurgling his last few breaths of life managed to somehow cut through the cacophony of the busy star destroyer's bridge, and Captain Wygraant turned around in time to see the junior officer manning the deflector screens console in the pit clutch desperately at his throat and fall to the deck. A half moment later, the console he stood at erupted in a shower of sparks.

"What in blazes?!"

"Captain Wygraant, rear quadrant deflector screens are down!"

As other officers checked the deflector specialist's vitals, the Captain had larger matters to attend to.

"Divert Besh Squadron remnants to cover aft quarter!"

The whole ship lurched, and this time, Wygraant did drop to a knee as the lights flickered.

"Bad to worse, then. Report!"

At the far wall, a technician read a wildly flashing series of screens, and turned to address his captain.

"Captain Wygraant, the Rebel gunship has rammed our engine superstructure! Hyperdrive and backups are offline! Sublight drives operating at 25% efficiency! We have hull breaches and venting plasma across twenty decks!"

"Seal those bulkheads and dispatch damage control parties immediately!"

Flustered, he turned back to the front in time to see the trio of Mon Calamari Star Cruisers disappear before his eyes.

"Commscan, where are those Star Cruisers?!"

He rushed to the viewport itself, pressing a hand against the glass. Cloaking devices??! Impossible!

The Dorn Squadron bombers, escorted by the Cresh elements, all began reporting in simultaneously.

"We have nothing on our scopes, Decimator Actual. No ion wakes, no electromagnetic displacement. It's as if they were never there at all."

Straightening his jacket again, Wygraant looked to the pit in time to see his shield man carted off in such a way that left no doubt that he was dead. The Captain tapped on his chin with his index finger, deep in thought.

"Were I a man prone to irrationality and superstition, I might have a theory about this."

He looked to his flight commander, who awaited yet further orders to deploy their fully-engaged fighters and bombers.

"New targets for Dorn bombers. Engage the Action IV. I want it disabled, Commander. If my theory is less than laughable, I believe we're facing a Jedi Knight somewhere in this fleet."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr was briefly rocked by an unexpected shake in the engine room. Normally accustomed to all sorts of bumps, bangs, and clangs, you differentiate things like, say, evasive maneuvers from things like laser strikes. This one felt more like a...

"Sanjis, djid somethjing just brreach the hull?"

Some kind of explosive decompression, one or two decks up? As if he didn't have enough to worry about!

[Sanis Prent]

With a bit of disgust, I veered away from the hangar bay, and the crazy fool floating up towards it.

"Negative, Cirr. Negative. That crazy wizard popped the shuttle hatch and used decompression force to catapult himself inside the star destroyer. Don't ask. I don't fucking know either."

We picked up speed, gunning our way out of the acklay's nest, with Loki keeping a sharp bead on anything to mean mug our vector. I already saw the bad news from Three Flight coming in. To top that off, we no longer had the crazy wizard's illusion to cover our ass, so the TIE's were on us twice as hard now.

"Joker, I'm inbound on Whaladon's vector. Looks like they're pulling those bombers around. Keep doing what you're doing, I'm gonna try something stupid."

Going full burn on sublights, I looked to Loki.

"We're gonna get beat on pretty bad, just shake off what you can, kid."

[Lowrook]

As the shockwave of the Berserker ramming the engines of the Decimator carried the physical blast through the larger ship, the emotional shockwave at the loss of his comrades and his ship swept through Lowrook. The only home he had known since coming out of the Carbonite Freezing was done, destroyed trying to sacrifice themselves for the Jedi.

Deep down, Lowrook knew that his how his crew would have wanted it. Watching the Whaladon be destroyed, or worse yet, captured with all the Padawans on it would have been untolerable to them. Their ship was in ruins and their sacrifice would hopefully by the Wheel the time needed to get away.

The shockwave had disrupted Lowrook's concentration. He tried to hold the illusions of the three Mon Cal Cruisers, but it had been some time since he had held an illusion that large for that amount of time. They flickered and disappeared. The last sense he got from the captain before pulling his awareness back to himself was that he recognized there might be a jedi here.

Shaking off the effects of the shockwave, Lowrook stood up. "He knows there is a Jedi here in the fleet. I don't think he has realized who we are, but he at least knows of my presence. If we can get our ships to jump soon, I can take a shuttle out and throw up enough faulty illusions that maybe the bombers will follow me."

[Jaden Luka]

Jaden's heart sank as the Berserker disappeared from the holographic display in front of him; he didn't have the stomach to turn and watch its destruction through the viewport. The Rebellion was of course all about heroes, and alas noble saccrifice came part and parcel of that. But he couldn't help but feel it was a senseless waste of life.

And of a ship, he mused. If it cost one every time the Imperials stumbled across them, they'd fast run out of convoy. Lets just hope that the Council listened to the Jedi's request for reinforcement.

His focus on the holo-display sharpened, watching as Three Flight lanced in to chase down the bombers that the Imperials had hurtling towards the fleet. Something had given the game away it seemed, and whatever Captain was commanding the Decimator had turned his sights on the Whaledon and the other civilian ships with renewed venom. A formation of Valkyries peeled away from the dogfight as per his instructions, hurtling towards the convoy as fast as their Event Horizons would carry them.

A panicked cry of "New contacts!" echoed across the bridge, making Jaden's voice sink further, as he watched the holo-representations of a Nebulon-B and another dagger-shaped Star Destroyer lanced onto the battlefield. It was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived to bolster the Impstar, and now here they were.

To his confusion however, the holographic wireframes didn't resolve to the same angry red as the Decimator, and instead became a much more friendly shade of green. His eyes rose, and sought out Leela again. "Colonel -" he called, grabbing her attention. What the frell?

[Lucy Gray]

“Greedy”, was all that Kylie had time to remark. Sensors picked up a squadron of bombers that were headed toward the Whaladon. “There’s something more to our liking”, she said as she banked the shuttle around on the aft of the squadron. The bombers had the same maneuverability and speed as the shuttle, but the shuttle sported shields. As long as they stay behind the bombers, then they would pick away at the targets. The bombers would either have to turn around and engage them, giving up their run on the Whaladon, or they would be destroyed.

Kylie rolled the shuttle so that the lasers would line up with the bombers angle of attack.

In the back of her mind, Kylie was wondering what the frack was going on with the bridge crews on the ships. There had been more than enough time to jump out of there, but still they stuck around. It’s only going to be a few minutes before reinforcements arrive, she thought. Then, with a quick look at the sensors, she saw that their time was up. Another Star Destroyer and a Nebulon B Frigate dropped out of warp. “Sithspawn”, she cursed.

[Leela Vorega]

She'd had little opportunity to get to know Brandt and the crew of the Berserker, but the time they'd been with the convoy she'd heard nothing but good things. Her heart sank behind her controlled facade, as she watched the ship's signal disappear against the bulk of the Decimator.

Brandt had done the one thing Leela had wished she could do so many times.

An Alderaanian murmur passed her lips, a brief blessing on the now-lost lives as she turned her attention back to the techs feverishly running the hyperspace calculations as fast as their equipment would let them. She pressed a hand to each of their shoulders and stood with them, waiting. Praying the the infernal luck of Rogues would extend to all of them that day.

Blue eyes found Jaden across her bridge even as he began to speak, darting soon after to the holo-screen beyond him. Her eyes widened and her voice would have scratched a Hapan diamond as sharp as it emerged. "Jinn, get me readings on the inbound and get them up on the damn holo-screen now!"

"They're broadcasting Alliance tags, bringing it up...now." The bridge officer all but squeaked, new to the deck of the Valiant and quite unaccustomed to Leela's ways just yet.

"Interesti-sonofasith! Ly'nn'da, open hailing frequencies to that blasted Venator." Leela ordered, crossing her arms over her chest as she strode to the center of the bridge and arched a brow.

A tell-tale chime indicated the frequencies were open.

"Valiant to Challenger, take a wrong turn at the Bothan sector, boys?"

[Vansen Tyree]

On the bridge of the Alliance Star Destroyer Challenger, Commodore Tyree fought to prevent his carefully maintained scowl from morphing into a smile. "I'm a little disappointed to hear that my old crew didn't have the sense to stage a mutiny, Colonel."

Now was hardly the time for small-talk, however: not with the massive hulk of an Imperial Star Destroyer out there, dwarfing even the Challenger and her kilometre keel. His attention instead turned to the officers on his bridge: to Conrad Pressly his XO, already hunched over the Comm Officers ready to take charge of the Fighter Wing the second Vansen inevitably ordered as much; to the Helm and Weapons Officers, dutifully awaiting instructions; to Adonis Inirial, the Subdirector of Fleet Intelligence, who'd hitched a ride on this particular jaunt and was standing beside him at the holo table. He felt a swell of pride, and an unwavering confidence. Odds be damned, he growled in his mind. Lets get this convoy saved.

"Open channel!" he barked; an echo of compliance bounced back from the officer who reacted, and a moment later an indicator light appeared on the console in front of him. He grabbed at the handset, and held the mic to his lips. "This is Challenger Actual, to all Alliance units: I am taking command of the fleet. Stand by for immediate instructions."

His eye snapped up to Conrad; the two officers had served together for so long that the Colonel no doubt already knew what he was going to say. "Throw everything we've got at them," he instructed, knowing the Colonel wouldn't act without a definate order. "You keep the fleet safe: I'll worry about that Impstar."

"It appears to be an Imperial Mark I," the Subdirector observed, quietly. Vansen agreed; he'd recognised the tell-tale features of the old Clone Wars variety of Impstar the moment they'd dropped out of hyperspace. He dredged up from his old mind everything they could; everything that might provide them with some small advantage. "There appears to be damage and debris around their aft quarter," Adonis continued, gesturing to the appropriate area of the holo-display. "Looks like they were rammed, and that sublight might be impared. If we begin a retreat -"

"- odds are, the Imperials won't be in a position to give chase," Vansen finished for him, nodding. Having commanded an Impstar himself, he placed himself in the enemy commander's shoes; imagined what must be going through his mind; where his priorities would lie; how he'd respond. He straightened, a plan of sorts forming in his mind.

"Helm!" he snapped, "Engines to flank speed; bring us under their ventral surface, and rotate starboard batteries to bear. Weapons: standard targets of opportunity; that ventral hanger of theirs is ripe for some juicy secondary explosions."

"Aye!" and "Aye!" flew back across the bridge to him, and he felt a slight shift as the antique Star Destroyer's thrusters kicked them into motion. "Signal the Intrepid; have them move into position between the Decimator and the civilians," he instructed to Adonis, grabbing the comlink again; "Valiant," he added as an afterthought, with a glance to the nearest comms officer.

"Channel open, sir," she aknowledged.

"We've bought you some time, Valiant," he issued into the mic, his good eye fixed on the unfolding battle displayed in front of him. "But not much of it. It doesn't have to be neat, and it doesn't have to be subtle; we can regroup and divert on the other side. Just get those civilians out of here. Now."

[Carré Inirial]

There was little to be said in the midst of the fire fight, as Three Flight maneuvered as a perfect unit. It would have been a thing of beauty were they not so outnumbered.

Eh, who was she kidding? It was still gorgeous, and they were the goddamned Rogues. They lived and breathed impossible every day.

Carré tapped her comm as the nagging feeling she'd been trying to squash blossomed into full-fledged recognition. "Joker...those TIEs are running the Delta Three formation I told you about. There's only way to counter it effectively - break them apart in the middle with the finger-four formation before they shift position."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I invented the damn maneuver three years ago over Bespin. Apparently its been cycled back into use-"

The appearance of a Venator and a Nebulon-B in Alliance colors cut her off, and the gruff voice of the Challenger's commander made her grin.

[Aris V'larr]

"All interceptor squadrons, scramble. This is not a drill."

The squawking order from the flight control deck was redundant by now, as most of the Vipers, Prowlers, and Thunderbolts already had britches to leather and were pulling down canopy glass as the space doors in the center of the hangar bay ground open. Captain Aris V'larr knew already that the Thunderbolts would be the first in the air, with orders to beeline for the Action-VI transport and take over her defense, engaging any targets of opportunity on the way. A rather perplexing caveat when there was a whole Imperial Star Destroyer "on the way."

"Alpha flight is in the air." That would be Major Loren Dumas, Thunder Ace, leading the first quartet of A-Wing IIs out through the ventral hatch and into battle. Aris kicked her own repulsorlifts into gear.

"Bravo flight, skids off the ground," Aris said. She goosed her engines forward over the space doors and dove into the vacuum, her own flightmates hot on her engine vapors. Constellation flight was just a heartbeat behind them.

Aris's scopes filled with contacts, both friendly and hostile, and she read the battlefield with the speedy eye of an Interceptor jockey. The Decimator and her fighter complement had not yet reacted to the Challenger's arrival, but once they did, their retribution would be substantial. With the combined firepower of the Challenger, Intrepid, and Valiant they could reasonably stop an ISD in her tracks, but not without heavy losses they couldn't afford. This would be a retreating action - slow the enemy assault and live to fight another day. That the Thunderbolts had no idea what they were defending was immaterial. The role of an interceptor squadron in any major engagement was to clear the airspace for the big guns.

"Form up, Bolts. The Action 'sport is our priority, tagged Whaladon. Keep those bombers off her back. Let's show the Rogues how it's done."

Targeting data from Thunder Ace streamed into Aris's computer. Each flight had been assigned priority targets to keep the attack organized; Bravo flight was responsible for peeling the picket of TIE Interceptors away from the bomber squadron so the other Bolts could work freely. "Bravo flight, on my wing. We're taking point. Open fire on those Interceptors as soon as we're in range, then break formation the moment they turn our way. It's time to divide and conquer."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Captain, new contacts inbound from hyperspace!"

Wygraant watched the capital ships appear, a skeptical look on his face. Like hell they are! Jawline tightening, he turned to his tactical station in the crew pit.

"Are we in range of the pocket carrier?"

The crewer gave a curt nod to that.

"Fire all starboard batteries at the Mon Calamari ship. Overwhelm their shields, then bring weapons to bear against the hyperdrive."

He snapped his finger at the helm.

"Roll the ship on our vector's axis zero-nine-zero. Prepare to bring all dorsal batteries to bear against the carrier. I want it dealt with immediately."

A tactical officer, feeling as if a key element of the strategy had been missed, gestured to the viewport.

"Captain, the enemy Venator destroyer and frigate?"

"Ignore them."

The crewers in the pit all shared bewildered looks with each other as an uncomfortable silence reigned. Wygraant, not normally one to humor such bouts of mass curiosity, explained.

"Three MC-80 star cruisers came out of hyperspace not two minutes ago, and vanished, during which, my shield operator's neck was mysteriously crushed and his station mysteriously exploded."

He paused for effect, letting his men fully appreciate the ridiculousness of these events.

"There's nothing in that sector but a trick of the mind, and I'm convinced there are Jedi Knights behind it."

"Our sensors show fighter squadrons launching from the Venator, Captain. They're heading to intercept our bombing run on the Action VI."

Wygraant looked to his stern-faced Flight Officer.

"So we're led to believe, Commander. Make sure that Cresh and Dorn squadrons stay to assignments."

The Decimator's starboard array of turbolasers, heavy turbolasers, and turbolaser batteries lit up the sky in a thunderous bombardment against Valiant as she drew to attack range. As the guns raged on, the Star Destroyer began to tilt on its axis, setting itself in position to unleash the maximum amount of force it could in a parallel alignment.

[Adonis Inirial]

"Most curious," Adonis observed, hands spread out in front of him as he leant against the holo-table. "It appears that the Decimator does not percieve us as a threat."

Sure enough, the Star Destroyer was slowly rolling to bring the majority of it's weapons systems to bear, leaving it's relatively unguarded underside painfully open to the Challenger's guns. He exchanged the briefest of looks with the grizzled Commodore - one of his father's most trusted officers, back in the Imperial Fleet, before Alderaan had been destroyed. He knew, both from family stories and from the man's service record that he had commanded such a craft himself, and so Adonis refrained from pointing out the obvious: that angled as she was, the Decimator would be able to live up to the reputation implied by it's name.

He glanced sideways, out of the panoramic viewport that dominated the front of the bridge as the Challenger's gunners complied with their instructions: firing at will at targets of opportunity the moment they came into range. Still sporting the paintwork of the Republic's Open Circle Fleet, the red-striped dagger of the Challenger stabbed up towards the belly of the Decimator, blue fury unleashed from her forward guns.

His eyes were drawn past the spectacle however, as in the distance - mere specks of grey against the blackness from his perspective - a telltale flash announced that the first of the Jedi transports had hurled itself into hyperspace.

[Abarai Loki]

"We're gonna get beat on pretty bad, just shake off what you can, kid."

"Sanis Prent, for the last time, my name is- Ah!"

The Layla rocked violently and, with a sharp crack, the weapons' console spat flames. Showered in blazing embers, Loki retreated into his chair and wafted away a cloud of rancid smoke. Warning lights flashed throughout the cockpit. And over the constant bleat of alarms, Loki called out.

"Captain, I have lost control of the secondary canon. You!" he blurted suddenly, and extending a blackened hand, he summoned the small egg-shaped droid through the air, then turned its illuminated receptors onto the crackling computer, "Can you repair this?"

"With respect, sir, I am a diagnostics module not a mechanical dogsbody. If I may-"

Marcus fell to the floor with a clatter and rolled away as the ship banked hard to avoid an oncoming TIE fighter. Ignoring his minor burns, Loki siezed the undamaged control stick, and returned to work. All it took was a press of a button and another starfighter crumpled under his sights; another life snuffed out. He glanced up and saw the concentration of enemy ships surrounding them had doubled... tripled. The Layla gave a frightful shudder.

"Captain Prent, while you are trying something stupid, perhaps the lieutenant could manually operate the second turret? I believe we're going to need it."

[Sanis Prent]

"Cirr, move your ass! We need you on the gun!"

The smell of chemical smoke and ozone hung thick in the air as MARCUS activated a fume hood to help to clear the noxious atmosphere. My console looked like an angry life day tree, it's indicators glowing in warning tones on a full array of systems as I banked high and low to give whatever evasives I could to keep the TIE escorts of Cresh squadron off our vector. Beyond that, I saw a massive pair of objects take shape.

"Imperial reinforcements? No, wait..."

The color scheme, the old open circle insignia, none of that was Impspec.

"Ships of ours?"

Sure enough, the IFF transponders painted them in a friendly shade as they began to launch fighters.

Meanwhile, Layla took another hit, a power box behind me spluttering in a shower of sparks. Cirr, having taken control of the belly gun, left juggling deflector capacity to MARCUS, and the droid was spreading what meager power they still had rather thin.

"We can't take a lot more shots like that without breaching the hull."

If we stay on target much longer, we're not going to survive. I didn't like brushing up against uncomfortable indications of my own mortality, and white-knucked on the stick, I peeled through what looked like a gap in Cresh squad's escort formation. The good news, we cleared the formation. The bad news...

Cr-gghrrrkk!!!

Mouth slightly open at the surprise of the sound, I caught my rear viewer in time to see a neatly decapitated TIE Interceptor, and a mangled port-side maneuvering fin.

"Ugh."

I gave the stick a few turns. At least we could still maneuver. I looked to Loki, without a real excuse to play it off cool.

"I, uh, we hit something."

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, we were clear, at least for the moment, to engage Dorn Squadron. The TIE Bombers began to loosen their ranks to make our task harder.

I keyed up the first two bombers in my targeting computer, feeding their vectors to the proton torpedo launchers that were primed to fire.

"Missiles away!"

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim hits the hull with a thud, but it is able to land with no injuries. Even better, he is able to keep his suit from getting ripped to shreds. He stands, maintaining his invisibility, and surveys the area to get his bearings.

Fortunately, Sanis's piloting skills landed him relatively close to a hangar bay. He clomps toward the opening, watching the battle rage above him. The Rebels are doing well for the moment, but they're going to be sorely outnumbered before too long. Enter Akrabbim, master of illusion and part-time saboteur. He'd be a full-time saboteur, but the job market for destroying things just isn't what it used to be.

As he nears the edge of the hangar, he changes his illusion slightly. He remains invisible, but does so by bending light itself, instead of relying on normal Force illusions. They're more taxing, but this way even holorecorders won't pick him up. He reaches the edge of the bay and slips through the magnetic field, feeling the odd tingle as he moves from vacuum to atmosphere. He sheds his suit and tosses it out the airlock, covering it with invisibility as well, at least until it drifts far enough away. Can't have his hosts welcoming him too early.

He scans the bay for a moment, standing back out of the way until his eyes lock onto what he needs: an ammo dump. Several torpedoes are stacked near the back the of the hangar, ready to be loaded onto fighters. He hugs the walls of the bay, working his way toward the pile. Along the way, he "liberates" a pair of thermal detonators. Once he reaches the torpedoes, he wriggles his way between them, finding a spot at the very bottom of the pile. He takes one of the dets, sets it to go off in five minutes, and starts hightailing his way into the ship.

In a matter of minutes he has worked his way much deeper into the ship. Normally, people would notice an invisible man simply because of the number of doors that opened for no apparent reason. But with the ship at battle stations, doors are opening left and right.

He checks the time, seeing that boom-time is approaching. He slips into a supply closet that seems relatively out of the way, checking for any recording devices present. Satisfied that he is not being watched, he drops his illusion and sits. He concentrates, imagining the area outside the hangar he entered. He creates an X-Wing coming around the corner of the ship, flying erratically. Sparks fly from the faux-fighter, appearing as if it is mortally wounded. The illusion whips toward the hangar bay, seeming to head into it dead-on. He times the illusion so that it hits just as the thermal det goes off.

The thud from the explosion is felt even with the ship's inertial dampeners active. He grins at his handiwork before raising the light illusion once more. Now on to phase two.

It just won't do to wander around invisible all the time. No... he needs a fall guy. *Operation Patsy - engaged!* He starts winding his way toward the crew quarters, looking for someone to replace...

[Lucy Gray]

An explosion lit up the space off in front of the shuttle that Kylie and Tera were manning. The solar panel of another TIE Bomber spun away from the wreckage off into oblivion. Kylie had to hand it to Tera, she could be a royal pain in the rear, but her gunnery skills were impeccable.

“Hey I’m getting credit for have of these, right?”

Kylie pushed a few more control buttons and the shuttle dove down and corkscrewed away from the rapidly diminishing squadron of bombers. She knew better than to get in front of them, so they had been swooping down from behind and then banking away to set up another run.

A burst of light caught Kylie’s attention. She saw that the ships of the Wheel were finally jumping away.

“Finally… my grandmother could have gotten out of here quicker and she is in a hoverchair.”

The good new was that the Jedi were safe… the bad news was that the bombers were now deprived of their target… and the closest one was their shuttle.

A blast bled off the majority of the energy of the aft shields of the shuttle. It seemed that the bombers were now turning on them. The shot hadn’t been a direct hit or else there would have been more damage.

Kylie activated the comlink to the frequency that the Rogues used. “Hey guys, we could use some help here. You don’t want to lose the hottest ladies in the squadron do you?”

[Aris V'larr]

"This is Angel to Rogue shuttle. I believe we are in a position to assist. Stand by."

Cresh Squadron, curiously, had neither moved to meet the A-Wings of Bravo flight nor tightened their defense around the bombers of Dorn Squadron - in fact, they had done nothing to acknowledge the arrival of the Thunderbolts at all. Aris was wary of a trick, but with no other bandits in weapons range, she was not going to complain if the enemy voluntarily presented its flank.

"Bravo flight, open fire!"

The void between the A-Wing IIs and the TIE interceptors lit up with the white contrails of concussion missiles, one per ship, and in a heartbeat, the Rebel interceptors had eliminated double their own weight in the enemy escort force. Rather than be picked off like blue milk bottles in a shooting gallery, the remaining Cresh interceptors discarded their captain's orders and scattered, leaving the bombers more or less defenseless. Aris's flight of A-Wings cut a swath through Dorn Squadron like vornskrs through a herd of shaaks. Two bombers, their heavy shields overwhelmed in the laser cannonade, exploded brilliantly, their engine and bomb pods rocketing off in opposite directions; the rest of them peeled away from their pursuit of the shuttle.

Aris and her three flightmates turned in a graceful arc away from the smoldering wreckage as the Imperials regrouped. "Angel to Rogue Squadron: in the interest of keeping a thorough account, that's two you owe to the Thunderbolts."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Flight Commander's news was...unfortunate.

"Cresh and Dorn squadrons are under attack! Major casualties!"

Wygraant wheeled around to view the holographic display of their deployed starfighters, and blanched. He was wrong. His "phantom" fighters were as real as anything, and his careless abdication of defending the bombing run now left the assault on the Action VI transport well and truly defeated. The YV-666 and shuttlecraft supporting the Rebels only served to underscore the catastrophe.

"Recall all squadrons onto our vector for defensive screen!"

The Decimator captain realized, much to his chagrin, that his ventral flank was opened up to the rapidly-approaching Venator destroyer.

"Helm, rescind last trajectory adju-..."

The ship shuddered again, pitching several crewers to the ground at the observation deck.

"Damage?"

The Flight Commander's sour expression seemed to worsen if that was possible.

"Impact inside our hangar bay! Heavy damage! Secondary explosions are causing multiple hull breaches!"

The situation they faced was becoming untenable. Wygraant's face looked grim.

"Right. Damage control to the main hangar bay at once. Bring our vector back to engage the pocket carrier in a starboard broadside."

He looked to the rapidly-approaching dagger shape of the Challenger

"Prepare port-side batteries. It seems we have a two-front engagement."



In the hangar bay...

Flames engulfed the hangar bay as fire teams rushed to put them out. The atmospheric shield now disabled, triggering sliding bulkhead covers to seal the atmosphere as best as possible, but not before numerous racks of equipment, and crewers were sucked into space. With the main hangar bay essentially put out of action, only the secondary bay would be available for any deployments.

[Carré Inirial]

Aris and her three flightmates turned in a graceful arc away from the smoldering wreckage as the Imperials regrouped. "Angel to Rogue Squadron: in the interest of keeping a thorough account, that's two you owe to the Thunderbolts.""Welcome to the party, Angel, this is Phoenix...glad y'all could join us." Carré grinned as she replied, her voice light even as the wheels in her mind clicked rapidly. The voice sounded startlingly familiar, and yet she couldn't quite place why it did so. Arching a brow, she shook her head after the brief thought and turned her attention back to the formation.

Thankfully, Joker had paid heed to what she'd said and their maneuver worked perfectly to split apart the remaning TIEs. While Joker and Flipper chased down their group, Carré and Sin took to eliminating their own, watching triumphantly as the panicked pilots broke protocols and patterns. Their orders must be changing constantly, she mused, no Imp pilot flies that erratically otherwise.

At least, not the good ones.

She spared a half second to spin her fighter around to check on the convoy, finally heaving a sigh of relief as she watched the ships disappear into hyperspace at last.

[Lucy Gray]

Another blast shook the shuttle, shaking the cockpit like a Rancor swatting at its prey.

"I think its time we get out of here." Kylie had already input the coordinates into the navi-computer before they left the hangar. That way they would know where they were going. She leveled out the shuttled and pulled back on the lever on the hyperdrive motivator.

"So we split the kills and I owe you 2 drinks?" she said to Tera, smiling. Right before the shuttle jumped to hyperspace, another torpedo slammed into the aft of the ship. The explosion took down the rest of the shields. Sparks flew from the consoles in the cockpit. Before Kylie or Tera could do anything, the shuttle left realspace and the battle.

[Vansen Tyree]

Since man had first begun to strap guns to ships, the broadside had been one of the staples of naval combat, whether atop the waves or amongst the stars. It seemed ridiculous when you thought of it: given the three dimensional nature of space, the concept of ignoring one of those dimensions completely to bring yourself parallel to an enemy, seemed incredibly odd. The designers of ships like the Venator or the Imperator designed their craft with exactly that eventuality in mind: the dagger-like wedge was as much a means of bringing as many guns to bear along those flanks as it was a means to intimidate.

Tyree considered his options. While the sixty-two turbolasers aboard the Challenger made for a formidable array, an Impstar like the Decimator had the hull space and reactor power to wield more, not to mention the dozens of ion cannons mixed in: even with her attention split between the three Rebel ships, the Decimator had more guns than they could handle, and even with her shields weakened, she'd likely last longer than the Challenger could in a fair fight.

But this didn't need to be a fair fight. It didn't need to be a victory. They just needed to last, and keep the Decimator occupied, until the last of the Jedi ships jumped away. That being the case -

His attention snapped towards the conning officer. "All engines, full reverse," he barked, instructions tumbling out in clipped orders. He ignored a confused glance from Adonis.

"All engines, full reverse," the conning officer echoed from the crew pit, repeating the order to the helmsmen as part of an archaic and outdated - but no less effective - protocol and tradition.

Eyes turned towards the Commodore from all across the bridge, but his own gaze remained focused on the looming form of the Decimator, dead ahead. He focused on the pinpoint spot on the distant command tower where he imagined his opponent Captain to be standing. Here's something your ship can't do...

"Weapons." His voice lacked the usual bitter growl, replaced instead with calm determination. "Forward batteries to fire at will on any and all targets of opportunity," he commanded. A pause followed. His eye narrowed. "And load torpedo tubes one through four."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Arre you lookjing at what jI'm lookjing at??!"

Cirr, from the ventral gunnery station, paused a moment to catch a wonderous sight. Both Valiant and Challenger enaged Decimator in a titanic crossfire. Even from their cramped and smoky vantage, the momentum of the battle felt turned in their favor, and he let out a triumphant shout that echoed in his lower-deck domain, and could no-doubt be heard all the way up the ladder well to the cockpit.

The flight of TIEs seemed to have sensed the change too. Mauled by flights from Challenger, they were peeling back to form a defensive screen around the mother ship. Cresh and Dorn squadrons had been nearly annihilated. Aurek and Besh were weakened, as was Esk. From Cirr's targeting grid, it looked like they had lost their capacity for the offensive.

To make matters even better, the ships of the convoy began, one by one, to bolt for hyperspace. First, Knightfall, then...

"Sanjis, Whaladon's away!"

A sense of relief washed over him as the most important vessel in the convoy shot into the ether. Cirr left his gun station, returning to the chaos of the engine room just in time to hear Sanis's voice squawk on the voxxcomm.

"We're getting jump coordinates coming in now, Cirr. If you tell me we've still got a hyperdrive, I'll kiss you!"

Waving away a puff of smoke as a MARCUS module killed an electrical fire, Cirr ducked and weaved toward his diagnostic console. A few short keystrokes, and a slow toothy smile spread on his grime-smeared face.

"Well puckerr up then, butterrcup."

Layla the worst behind her, moved to Valiant's flank to give the rest of the Rogues and the flights from Challenger space to pursue. It would only be a matter of moments before their hyperdrive spooled for the jump.

[Lucy Gray]

"Whooo, that was close", said Kylie as she looked over at Tera. The shuttle had suffered a direct hit when they jumped to hyperspace, but they had made it out alive and mostly intact.

That couldn't be said for the plow pushers of Tie Fighter pilots that they went up against. By her records, they had accounted for at least 4 kills... IN A SHUTTLE. Kylie really thought it was her fabulous flying that helped Tera hit them.

"Dropping out of hyperspace in 5 seconds. Then I can collect on all those drinks you owe me." Kylie flashed a smirk at Tera and them pulled back on the hyperdrive lever.

Nothing happened.

Kylie pulled back on it again.

Again... nothing.

"Frackin' Sithspit. Something's wrong."

Kylie swore and slammed her fist down on the console. Nothing happened. The shuttle continued to barrel through hyperspace past the rendezvous point of the Wheel.

"We are in fracking huge trouble."

Kylie pushed herself out of her chair and made her way to the back of the ship. She had no idea how to fix a malfunctioning hyperdrive, but she figured that she might as well hit it with a huge hydrospanner. She pulled back and whacked the hyperdrive with it.

Still the shuttle continued down their hyperspace route.

Where it would lead would be anyone's guest (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=21359).

[Rolth Wygraant]

Decimator poured turbolaser fire in all directions, striking out at both Valiant and the now-backpedalling Challenger. The Nebulon B Frigate Intrepid was closing quarters, putting another wedge between Decimator and the Wheel's remaining flank. They too shared in the Imperial warship's wrath, as turbolaser fire rained down on their shields.

"Captain, the Action VI has jumped to light speed. Sensors indicate several other vessels in the flotilla are also spooling their hyperdrives, including the pocket carrier."

Wygraant, scowling, watched the sleek shape of the Mon Calamari carrier slip past his ship's contours, hammered on all fronts by turbolaser fire. Even though they were pummelling the carrier's shields, he knew that they simply didn't have enough time to deliver a critical hit to the craft before it hypered away. Unlike the Imperials, the Rebels didn't have the incumberance of having to recall their fighters, as both mother ship and fighter could accelerate into hyperspace alike.

He had to come to terms with this fight. He'd lost.

"Divert batteries exclusively to the frigate and the Venator. All stations to defense."

He gave the command in a weary voice, adjusting his jacket as he at last turned his attention from Valiant and onto Intrepid, now the closest threat. Since the Rebels were keen to spirit their original flotilla away, Captain Wygraant surmised that this latest group of ships was essentially intended to bail out the smaller fleet and get it to safety. He doubted their resolve to continue the assault beyond their rescue, much less their capability.

[Jason Na'moda]

Jason followed the lead of the others, his astromech plotting the route the others had taken. He charged the hyperdrive core and rocketed outside the Impstar's sphere of influence and punched it. As the stars blurred into lines, he waved a not so fond farewell to the huge sign of Imperial power and shot to lightspeed.

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim arrives at the crew quarters, only to realize that he has absolutely no idea who he would replace. *Well done, Akrabbim... you need to replace someone in a good department. When they get to their quarters, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT DEPARTMENT THEY'RE IN! Brilliant...* He mutters under his breath, still invisible, and ponders where to go.

He could try the bridge, but that might be a bit too bold. It'd be next to impossible to replace someone that highly ranked. He wouldn't know what he needed to know to be a convincing fake. That, and he's not really what you call a good pilot. Or a bad pilot. Really, you don't call him a pilot at all. He crashed the last speeder he touched. And he wasn't even in it. He's just that skilled.

He decides to try the engineering department. He's no better at fixing ship engines than he is at driving them. Breaking them, on the other hand... well that's just his game. With an invisible grin on his face, he heads toward his target...

Continued here... (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?p=351710#post351710)