The dance had begun. His sensors lit up as TIEs belched from the Star Destroyer far above him, some heading for the Alliance fleet and others streaming down towards him and the shuttles he was escorting. He grinned and let out a whoop.
"M1, power to rear deflector shields and prepare to flip them," His hands darted around the cockpit, making subtle adjustments and changes. His scanner beeped several times and he peered ahead. Several TIEs had broken off from the main group and were preparing to attack the shuttles. He could vaguely sense the pilot's concern in the shuttles and the very powerful presences of the Jedi masters. "Front deflectors!" He barked and M1 diverted power just in time as a spray of blaster bolts arced through the atmosphere, splashing off his deflectors. The ship rocked from the impact and he pushed the controls to port to avoid the shuttles.
Now it was time really dance. He flung himself into the stillness of the Force, stretching out his awareness until he became his fighter. There was no longer man and machine. The two were one and he acted on instinct now, absorbing sensor and display information that seemed to go directly to his hands and feet on the controls.
Now. He pitched the X-Wing to on side, skidding it up sideways as lasers screamed past. He cut the acceleration and shoved the nose forward, sending it tumbling downwards before punching the thrust again, sending it snapping back up the way it came, and squeezed the trigger. Lasers shot from his wingtips, vaporizing the top of a TIE fighter's wings and sending it spiraling to the surface below. Roth gave a tight smile and ragged laugh as he caught his breath again.
"Remember the goals, Shield Squadron. Keep them off the shuttles."
His sensors dinged again and he rolled it as a torpedo shot by at point blank range. Too tight. He took a deep breath and threw himself into it again, weaving around his small battlesphere, chasing off the TIE fighters. Hopefully they'd be recalled soon.
"Rapier squadron, sitrep?" He beamed up above, "Things are hot here. May be stretched thin to support you up there."
[member="Alicia Frost "][member="Alexandra Russo"]
"M1, power to rear deflector shields and prepare to flip them," His hands darted around the cockpit, making subtle adjustments and changes. His scanner beeped several times and he peered ahead. Several TIEs had broken off from the main group and were preparing to attack the shuttles. He could vaguely sense the pilot's concern in the shuttles and the very powerful presences of the Jedi masters. "Front deflectors!" He barked and M1 diverted power just in time as a spray of blaster bolts arced through the atmosphere, splashing off his deflectors. The ship rocked from the impact and he pushed the controls to port to avoid the shuttles.
Now it was time really dance. He flung himself into the stillness of the Force, stretching out his awareness until he became his fighter. There was no longer man and machine. The two were one and he acted on instinct now, absorbing sensor and display information that seemed to go directly to his hands and feet on the controls.
Now. He pitched the X-Wing to on side, skidding it up sideways as lasers screamed past. He cut the acceleration and shoved the nose forward, sending it tumbling downwards before punching the thrust again, sending it snapping back up the way it came, and squeezed the trigger. Lasers shot from his wingtips, vaporizing the top of a TIE fighter's wings and sending it spiraling to the surface below. Roth gave a tight smile and ragged laugh as he caught his breath again.
"Remember the goals, Shield Squadron. Keep them off the shuttles."
His sensors dinged again and he rolled it as a torpedo shot by at point blank range. Too tight. He took a deep breath and threw himself into it again, weaving around his small battlesphere, chasing off the TIE fighters. Hopefully they'd be recalled soon.
"Rapier squadron, sitrep?" He beamed up above, "Things are hot here. May be stretched thin to support you up there."
[member="Alicia Frost "][member="Alexandra Russo"]