Dogfight (Open to All)

[Julius Patton]

OOC: I don't care whether your Jedi, Sith, Sovereignty, Federacy, Balmorran, Republican, Black Hand, Vamp, or Confed you can participate. This thread is basically going to start out as a one on one skirmish between me and someone else. The most I'll take on are two people allied together until someone enters that aren't allied against me.

IC:

Interdictor Cruiser Stop Sign, Sovereign Space
Ship's Core

"How the hell did I get stationed on a ship like this?" Julius moaned to himself, "Piece of junk..."

The Wing Commander kicked one of the pipes in his frustration. Almost as if it was responding, the pipe broke and blew smoke right into the TIE pilot's face. Julius stumbled away moaning and cursing, much to the laughter of the techs. He tripped over himself in his blind daze, causing the laughter to rise all the louder. Then they went eerily quiet.

"Hey TIE jock," one of the techs said, "She may not look like much but shes got it where it counts."

"Yeah?" Julius said, "And where is that, exactly."

The room went dead silent for a few more seconds before everyone, including Julius, broke into laughter. The Interdictor Cruiser Stop Sign had been specially rigged to carry four full squadrons of TIE Defender Mark IIs and two of Scimitar Assault Bombers. In other words, the Basilisk Wing. Their objective was to catch any unwanted trespassers. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the modifications had played havok with the Interdictor's systems. They had even resorted to using the pilots as grease monkeys in order to keep the ship in working order.

"Now look what you've done!" one of the techs cried in exasperation, "Look at this pipe! Did you know that this-"

The tech never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment the alert went off. Julius knew what it meant. There were incoming ships. Or, hopefully but less likely, an incoming ship. The Wing Commander dropped his tools and bolted off before the techs could protest.

Bridge

Julius finished wiping the grease off of his face just as he walked into the bridge, nodding curtly to the COs in command of each squadron. He turned his attention toward the Captain of the Interdictor who had not yet noticed the Wing Commander's entrance. He was leaning over the sensor officer's shoulder.

"Captain," Julius finally spoke up to get the man's attention, "What is the situation?"

"Sensors report one starfighter-class ship inbound," the Captain replied, "There is a 94% chance the ship will pass within the gravity well."

"Then I suggest you turn off that annoying alarm immediately," Julius sighed, "One fighter hardly justifies scrambling the crew. I suggest you send out one squadron of Defenders to escort it either through the well, if it is friendly, or back to the ship, if it is hostile, where we will put the pilot under arrest."

"May I remind you that I am in charge here," the Captain replied curtly, "Not you, Wing Commander Patton."

"That is why I only suggest what I would do in your situation, Captain," Julius said, "Your call."

The silence seemed to last forever. Finally.

"Turn off the alarm," the Captain ordered, "Order one squadron, led by Wing Commander Patton, to meet the unidentified fighter."

"A wise choice, Captain," Julius replied, "I trust I am dismissed."

"Yes, Wing Commander. Yes you are."

Hangar Bay

"Come on, come on!" Julius muttered to himself, "By the time we're out of this piece of junk the fighter will be halfway across the well!"

"Basilisk Leader, you are ready for launch," came the calm, smooth voice of the flight officer, "Have a nice trip."

"A walk in the park, Flight."

Julius blasted out of the Hangar, feeling instantly at home with his surroundings. He checked his radar to find that the ship wasn't here yet. His squadron had some time to organize. A few seconds after he left the hangar, the hangar doors screeched as they slowly began to close. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Stop Sign, what the frell?" Julius asked over the comm, "I'm looking out of my cockpit at a closing hangar door. Whats going on in there?"

"Basilisk Lead, we're reading a total system failure in the hangar bay doors," came a worried response, "Technicians in the core report a broken pipe key to the door's power. Its going to be a little while before the situation can be repaired. Looks like you're on your own out there."

"Great..." Julius muttered.

[Maal Lah]

The form of Maal Lah lay comatose on the pilot couch within his Executioner Mk IV starfigher. His prone form belayed the frenetic activity within his brain, controlling all functions of the fighter.

Sithspawn! Where the hell did i jump to?! I was supposed to reach Omerose! Instead, Lah found himself facing an Interdictor cruiser. I can't fight a cruiser all by myself...

His sensors blipped as a new speck appeared, close to the cruiser. Almost immediately afterwards, it seemed as though a shudder ran through the vessel. Maal looked again at the cruiser. It appeared fine...and it could probably use its weapons. As the thought occurred, Maal ordered a new command to the systems of the fighter.

Activate stealth package.

[Julius Patton]

Interdictor Cruiser Stop Sign, Sovereign Space
Ship's Core

"Are you gonna give me a hand here?" the only tech working asked, "Or are you gonna help me fix this thing before that TIE jock gets fried?"

"Since when did you care?" one of the others asked.

"Since I noticed that other pipe on the fritz leading to the turbolasers which means," the first grimaced, "If that pilot doesn't make it we're all royally screwed."

"Holy..." another tech muttered.

"Yeah, I know, now hel-" the first tech began before he looked down to see what he was doing.

Originally, he had been attempting to bend the broken pipe back into place. Unfortunately, his crowbar had caught onto a different pipe. A pipe that didn't need fixing. A very important pipe. A pipe that fed juices straight to the reactor. A look of horro crossed the tech's face as he spun around.

"RU-" he managed to scream before the room erupted into an inferno.

The tech was blown back, his body engulfed in flames. The others didn't have time to scream before they too were thrown. A few were lucky and were tossed right out the entrance hatch. Most of them were slammed into the wall, leff to burn to death if the impact hadn't killed them immediately. The damage to the room, however, was nothing compared to the damage of the ship.

Cockpit of Basilisk Leader

"Frell," Julius muttered, "The fighter should be here by now? Why aren't I picking anything up?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Interdictor begin to list slightly to the right. He angled his Defender for a better few, and just then noticed the flame engulfing one quarter of the ship. At first Julius thought his eyes were decieving him. What the frell happened?

"Flight? Whats going on in there?" Julius asked over the comm.

"Re....ad....lisk Lead...." came a staticy response, "Te...t....reac....pip......losion....perdrive a....pons...ffline....angar do....shut for go....do yo....copy?"

"I copy, Flight," Julius replied slowly and clearly, "A walk in the park. I think the fighter is cloaked because I'm not picking up anything on my sensors."

"Sens....re offl....oo, Basi....ad...." the comm crackled, "We....osing yo...Le....shckkkkk...."

The comm was dead. Julius was alone with a most likely cloaked enemy, and he was extremely lucky that he hadn't been blasted into oblivion. It only took the Wing Commander a few seconds to find the starfighter. While it was cloaked from sensors, it was easy to spot with his own eyes. An Executioner Mk IV, by the looks of it. He was in for the fight of his life, for he doubted it was friendly. He could've sworn he'd seen Federal markings.

The bogie hadn't seemed to noticed him, but Julius didn't blame him. The pilot was probably focused on the beautiful and terrible implosions coming from the Interdictor. The Wing Commander banked widely around the fighter, hoping to keep the element of surprise. He came up behind it and, for no other reason than to obey protocol, opened a comm channel.

"Unidentified fighter, you are in Sovereignty space," Julius called, "Deactivate your weapons and prepare to be escorted to the nearby Star Destroyer Redemption. Respond or we will be forced to consider you hostile and retaliate."

It was a bluff, and the bogie probably knew it, but Julius figured it was worth a try. If the fighter finished him it would have no trouble with the disabled Stop Sign. Maybe he could scare the pilot into making a run for it.

OOC: Just for reference to anybody else who feels like joining. The Interdictor's gravity wells are not offline. So anybody who passes by will still be sucked out of hyperspace.

[Maal Lah]

Does he think to cow me into surrendering? Maal thought incredulously as he shied away from the buring cruiser. Surrender was not in his vocabulary.

His plan had been to knock out the cruiser's weapons capability, or at least part of it, but it appeared that his enemies had already taken care of it. Now all he had left was this one fighter.

Drop stealth package.Maal hated flying cloaked. One-on-one's were so much better when your opponent could see you.

Maal intended to finish this fight quickly. Ready missile. he commanded calmly. Normally, a decent pilot would juke to avoid a lock, but Federacy targeting systems were advanced beyond that disturbance. Of course, if this guy is any good, he might try... Maal's voice trailed off as the range closed with his enemy.

His targeting system reported a lock.

Scratch a sov... Maal though as he launched a missile at the fighter. Hopefully.... he added as he dove in an arcing loop that would bring him to the belly of his enemy. No sense in leaving loose threads...

[Julius Patton]

OOC: If you have any problems with any of my posts or any questions you'd like to ask about them or my character, my AIM is Zark Ekan. Khendon already gave me yours.

BIC:

Cockpit of Basilisk Leader

After the bogie's cloak disengaged Patton thought for a second his bluff had succeeded. As the fighter banked around to come straight for him, Julius knew he had thought too soon. The sudden lock startled him. His opponent obviously wanted to end the fight quickly and didn't feel like bothering with any feints. He obviously didn't know he was going up against a veteran Sovereignty Wing Commander, and more than likely thought him to be some overly-giddy TIE jock who blasted out of the hangar too soon.

Still, Julius held tremendous respect for his enemy. The Executioner was an excellent fighter, and this one looked different than the Mark Ones and Twos he was used to studying. That either meant custom-build or new design. Either one showed a sign of considerable authority. Even more demanding of his respect was that this Federal was out here on his own, which meant he wasn't just some Wing Commander.

Snapping back to attention, the missile was coming in fast. Julius had spent a lot of time studying his enemies, and he knew the Federacy had some pretty advanced targetting systems. It was in these moments that Patton wished the Empire back together. Otherwise, he tried not to think about it much. He was just a pilot.

Instead of attempting to juke out of the lock, Julius went into a dive. His calculations had to be precise, or else he'd have to start back at the drawing board. And his time was too short for that. He ejected one decoy and then another shortly after. The decoys themselves shouldn't fool the advanced missle, but if his calculations were correct...

They were. The missiles advanced decoy-avoidance systems dodged out of the way of the first false only to dive headfirst into the second, having not time to adjust its course. It exploded into a blaze of fire. While he had been concentrated on the missile, the bogie had followed him closely, obviously wanting to make sure he was dead.

Another arch brought him face to face with his enemy. His laser cannons started blazing as he squeezed the trigger. He prepared to bank away sharply when the inevitable response came.

Bridge of the Interdictor Cruiser Stop Sign

Lieutenant Marshall swept around the bridge, calling for status reports and giving out orders. The Captain had been hit by some debris in the explosion, leaving him in command. Unlike the Captain, Marshall was a man of action. He had advanced through the ranks through skill and tactical prowess. The Captain had advanced through his family and high standing in society.

Above all, however, Marshall was concerned about Patton. He had met the Wing Commander on a few occasions, and he knew him to be a good pilot. More importantly, the bras knew him to be a good pilot. If the man got killed while serving on his ship, even if he was only temporarily at it's command, he was a dead man.

The repairs were already under way, the dead had been moved, and the wounded were being treated. Now all that Marshall was waiting for was some results. Many of the most experienced techs had died in the explosion, and the lucky few to have been only wounded were either unconscious or drugged up with painkillers.

It would take a while to get the hangar doors operable again, and by then the dogfight would probably be over.

[Maal Lah]

The target lock flashed green as the pilot banked away, only for an instant. But enough time for another missile launch. Maal knew that the opponent dfinitely had enough skills to dodge this missile as well, but it was another distraction for the pilot. And, as everyone knew, distractions could be deadly.

Maal's maneuver choice had been set on corkscrewing into an upwards spiral, allowing an advantageous situation to develop. But even as he turned his fighter on its tail, another thought occurred to him. One that could help immensely.

Even as the thoughts zoomed like a swoop racer through his mind, he checked it off as his course of action, already looping to traverse the enemy and the missile.

His opponent ship was a fast fighter. But not as fast as a missile. The previously fired weapon was gaining on his enemy. But whatever tactic his opponent intended to use on the missile, Maal intended to disrupt it. Federacy missiles, on the Executioner Mk IV and Shrieker classes had huge blast radiuses, as they were designed to impact on capital ships. So, if a said missile were detonated prematurely, the blast radius would be injurious to one's health, were they in the blast zone.

And most likely would be vaporized into molecular globs of atomic soup. A savory dish, as he targeted his four gatlings upon the lone missile. The repeating lasers blasted bolt, traveling fsater than the speed of light, reaching the missile...

And the subconcious of Maal's mind, attuned to the sensors of the fighter, winced as a huge ball of light lit up the area.

[Julius Patton]

Cockpit of Basilisk Leader

"Damn!" Patton muttered to himself. He hadn't been fast enough, and the bogie pilot had managed to get a lock.

While he did notice the enemy fighter retreat out of the corner of his eye, he didn't have much time to consider the implications with a Federal missile on his tail. It was gaining rapidly and Julius knew he probably couldn't manage to pull the same stunt twice. He'd have to do some tricky flying to break the lock. He had a sudden flash of inspiration, for flying was his art. He only hoped this maneuver wouldn't be his last masterpiece.

Snap-turning and barrel-rolling to the left, Julius struggled to remain conscious even though the inertial compensator was at 99 percent. The pressure of the g's was enormous. The missile began to change its alignment to compensate for the sudden maneuver. The Wing Commander cut all power, bringing the Defender to a dead stop and slamming him forward. He was inches away from bashing his head against the canopy.

The missile which had not yet compensated fully for his juke, overshot him by a few meters. It got about fifty meters away before it started to make a round-a-bout turn. Soon it would be heading straight at him. Julius didn't intend to give it that chance. He powered the TIE back up and struggled to get a lock on the fast moving missile, but he didn't have to. It had almost completed its turn before it exploded.

The wide blast radius missed Julius' TIE, but the shockwave sent his fighter into a crazed role. He struggled to regain control of his ship as he once again fought against the g's. Finally he did, and did a quick damage check. Amazingly, his fighter was still in relatively good condition. The tips of the solar panels were a little singed, but other than that he was okay.

Julius was out of sensor range of the Executioner, but he knew he'd soon be locking heads with the fighter again. The bogie most likely thought him to be dead, and it would turn its attention to the derelict Interdictor Cruiser. The Interdictor Cruiser holding the rest of his Wing. He couldn't allow that to happen.

The Wing Commander pulled back hard on the yoke, bringing the Defender near to its top speed. The pilot would have barely an instant to respond, and by then it would be too late. Julius hoped. The Executioner models were notoriously fast.

Luck was with him, for the enemy pilot didn't notice him until he was well within range. He got a missile lock and fired once. Twice. Three times. He had had enough of this.

[Maal Lah]

Enough with the missiles Maal thought as the missile exploded. Time to finish this the old fashioned way. He saw the fighter flit away from the explosion. Then it zoomed out of his fighter's forward arc. The pilot was trying to avoid sensor detection, it seemed. But particle sensors told him all he needed to know: the Defender was cranking his speed up and angling behind him. To Maal, that meant one of two things: that he was trying for a "blind" missile hit, or he was looking to make him around-face his fighter. He decided it wasn't going to be worth the effort to move his fighter.

Missile warnings beeped. Maal idly noticed three missiles heading his way. Looks like I riled this guy up. He swiveled his two dorsal AMS gatlings. His anti-missile belly turret, like any good computer weapons program, was already aware and ready for the threat.

The missiles hit the 5 klick mark, well within the range. A couple of seconds separated them from his ship. Maal fired his lasers. And kept firing, a steady stream of light-gouging beams. One missile instantly vaporized, detonating prematurely. Resulting shock waves drove one of the missiles off course. But his Anti-missile belly gun then drove the missile into tiny bits. The third missile came in, hard at two klicks. Maal fired at hit, as well as flicking his maneuvering jets so that he rose upwards. The third missile exploded in a gaseous cloud of flame and dust. This time, the shock buffeted his fighter around like ice cubes in a swirling drink, and making his physical body feel the same way. He righted his fighter and pondered courses of actions.

Aha. He swiveled around, got a lock, and fired a missile. Two missiles. At the cruiser.

Then he turned and pursued his enemy.

[spada]

Spada sat in a leaned back position as his A-Wing cruised in hyperspace too fast to be seen. The ship was, in summary, a piece of junk. It was found crashed by a scrap collecter who sold it to him while it could barely keep together. Spada had fixed it to the best of his ability and modified the blasters and cargo to hold his speeder bike, which was meant to be in two pieces on both sides of the cockpit in the wings. The extra weight was compensated by a great deal of armor stripped and shaved off by the scrapper and by Spada himself. The result; a fast, agile, hunk of metal.

Spada longed to stretch his legs, but the space did not allow it. He looked at his datascreen which said he had about 5 hours until he reached his destination. He took a risk and, strapping himself in, dozed off.

About an hour later, the lightning speed of the A-Wing suddenly stopped itself in a mattr of seconds. Spada felt himself jerked foward and woke quickly. Floating in front of him was an Imperial Cruiser. The type, he was not sure of, but he was sure that it was exploding and malfunctioning badly. Suddenly, he heard the sound of blaster fire and explosions and noticed 2 ships in a heated dogfight. Spada flipped 2 switches, but nothing happened.

Glancing over towards his engine console, they showed that the sudden stop shocked his engines, putting them out of commision for a few minutes. He took in the scenry of what was going on and checked out the 2 ships. One looked like a Tie, and the other he was not very sure. He sat for a bit and hoped that the ships wouldnt notice him and suddenly he felt a jolt. The engines fired up and he began to move foward.

"Oh thank the force."

He began to fly foward and tried to escape the gravity well before one of them saw him.

[Bari Wedoru]

Bari Wedoru was a man of principle.
This was the line he had fed his current employee, that he was a man of principle, and his principles included getting cargo wherever he was hired to ship it. Whatever the cargo was, he never really cared, be it illegal spice or legitimate livestock. Unfortunately, it was the former that he was carrying at this point, even though it was safely hidden away. Despite the illegality of it, he didn't worry much since his custom craft, the Fallen Grace, was exceptionally fast and modestly armed in case of any bandits trying to ambush him.
Though, he didn't really expect to run into any trouble in this area of space. Just a straight shot from one planet to the next in Hyperspace, and nothing between the two that could threaten him.
Bari was therefeore quite startled when he was interrupted right in the middle of brushing his teeth by his ship jarring itself out of Hyperspace. Cursing furiously and clad only in a silky blue bathrobe, he strode to the cockpit and sat down.
----"Frelling skrelnik. Everytime I try to get some relaxation..." He muttered, reaching under his seat for the half empty pack of cigarettes and silver lighter. He plucked one that wasn't horribly crooked out and stuck it between his lips, clicking the lighter repeatedly to try and light it as he looked out into space. He froze in mid click.
----"...Huh." He was now staring at the scattered array of fighters ducking, weaving, and shooting at a single craft, which was doing its fair share of the same wild maneuvers. Then there was the enormous cruiser sitting in space like an ominous fortress What in the hell was going on? Why had he been pulled out of Hyperspace? He figured it must've been by that cruiser somehow... Oh well, he couldn't worry about that now. The first thing he worried about was staying awaaay from the battle. His ship was fast, and could pack a nice punch, but he really didn't want to go through anything of that sort currently.
----"...Maybe they won't notice me...." He quickly started setting a course away from the cruiser, keeping his power output low to try and reduce chances of being located...

[Maal Lah]

Huh. Maal broke off from his pursuit of the lone TIE, still keeping a eye on him. Which was sort of hard because his body wa lying comatose-like on the pilot's couch. ONe of the consequences of having one of the galaxy's most advanced fighter control systems.

Two new targets had appeared within the zone of the cruiser's gravity well. Both had immediately attempted to break out off the area to escape. One was definitely a snub-fighter, A-Wing class. The other one was soem sort of modified craft. Som eupjumped smuggler, maybe. Who knew?

Decisions raced through Lah's mind, rapidly being checked for faults and analyzed. One snapped into place.

He decided to go for the A-Wing, it being the faster craft. Granted, all he really had to do was evade the TIE he had been fighting and jump out, but that wouldn't be fun then, would it? Maal always liked to have a little fun.

The space around them was like the calm before a storm. Too calm....Blast! What happened to those missiles! Maal glanced at sensors and read the situation. The missiles, for some god-danged reason, had decided to stop on their own, sitting still in space. Cursing, Maal resent instructions for them to hit the cruiser.

Then Maal turned to follow the A-Wing and waited for bright explosions to fill the sky.

[spada]

Spada glanced back as one of the fighters broke off and began to tail him.

"Ah, sithspawn. What's his problem?"

Spada wobbled his control stick, causing the A-Wing to respond very sensitively. He kept moving at a speed fast enough but not too fast to overheat his engines again. He glanced back and waited for the fighter to make the first move, if it even wanted to attack him. He glanced down at his console and pushed a button, revealing 2 switches. He switched these two and he could hear his lazers and missiles warming up.


OOC: Patton told me he doesn't have much time for RPing now so for now I think we should continue without him.