Fleet Comp:
The cathar commander watched as the Astrocats were bombarded over and over by direct fire. Missiles, heavy guns, and a tons upon tons of bombs hit the two frigates over and over.
Their shields gave way after the second round of bombers.
And yet, the frigates stood. Their siegurium armor rings holding under sustained bombardment. Just as they were designed to. In response, the two frigates opened fire with their missile launchers again, focusing fire on the Tauntu with more Thunderbolts, though this time with a mixture of proton torpedoes.
Then came their escorts. Twin squadrons of what looked like normal fighters.
The Flyswatters didn't stay normal. They charged right into the smoke, and opened up with a turbolaser out of their nose, sending each of the fighters flying off in a different direction from the recoil. While it looked like a design flaw, it became clear that they used it to purposefully disappear into the smoke.
Zoro himself couldn't be bothered as much. He was always accused of being in his own head. Too much of a tactician for his own good.
The incoming missile alarm was almost entirely zoned out, as the 300 forward point defense guns of the Luke dealt with them quickly, as it did the ones heading towards the Blackbeard.
A few managed to sneak through hitting the Whitebeard, but it's shields seemed to deal with that.
He needed to focus on what came next.
"How are our K-wings?"
"Taking the long way around, sir. They'll be in position in thirty seconds."
"Good. Hit them with everything we have. Send out the Thunderstorms to harass those forward frigates."
"Aye sir."
Flight Commander Gorman of
Finisher V, the newly marked up K-wing after the engagement over Mahporeem watched his navigation screen carefully. They'd been tasked with going in a long arc, away from the battle enough to where any of the imperial fighters would have to break off from their current screening to deal with them, and also far enough to where the imperial point defense guns wouldn't be able to hit them.
Then they dove. A long arc, that culminated in them coming practically horizontally down onto the imperial formation. His wing, one of six, were pulling off a technique that his unit had perfected over the last few months in training. The Six Star Formation. Now, from six different directions, a horde of 72 K-wings came down.
And they could see through the smoke perfectly. All because way in the back,
the Nightfuries were scanning right through the smoke with heavy sensors, including
Crystal Gravfield Traps, that had every ship marked, and pinned in the battlenet.
That's why what came next was, by any measure, a rain of hellfire.
The first set of K-wings, launched their barrage. From direct north and south, the squadrons broke off into groups of three. Two missile boats, and one jammer plane. The jammers focused on Missile Deactivation Transmitters, while the missile boats unleashed hell. 8192 Thunderbolt Guided Missiles screamed towards the Erda and the Ulus, split pretty unceremoniously, as the weapons operators didn't seem to think that that amount of munitions could be shot down.
Then came the hellfire.
16384
That's how many missiles came in the next barrage, before the K-wings broke off. But not just missiles,
CHOMP rockets that each fired a seigurium dart ahead of it to punch through armor, before the HE charge of baradium followed behind to smash open the hole created.
Split between the two ships, it was the rebellion's lethal guillotine.
All the while, the X-wings of the WSR pushed in and engage the fighters before they could stop any of this.
And the B-wings? They simple pushed on. As heavy figthers simply shifted their focus. The Harrier fighters that attempted to close the distance were lit up by longer ranged turbolaser fire, and concussion missiles that pushed ahead of the B-wings far outside of the harrier's range. All before breaking off, and heading back to their carriers for rearming.
All the while, the Starlions using that smoke as cover to break through the line, and making it back to the Luke, without too much. They'd lost six of their bombers, but for a successful mission, that was an acceptable loss rate.
As did the M-wings, who had lost about a quarter of what they came in with, but with nearby recovery, many of those 25 had simply returned to the ship, damaged, out of action, but alive.
Now they needed to get the hell out of here.
