Post #1
//Objective 1:// Battle of the Shipwrecks////Location://Dubrillion Orbit - Just Outside the Debris Shoal Zone (DSZ)//
//Accompaniment://81st New Imperial Fighter Group "Fel's Revenge"//
//Unit:// Destroyers Flight, 204th New Imperial Starfighter Fighter Squadron “Darkstar”
//Starfighter://
TIE/VX Vanguard
//Controlled Fleeter NPC:// Fleet Admiral Osiv Vularen (I am also RPing for Fleeting)
//Controlled NPC Fleet://
Force Superiority “Dictator”,
First New Imperial Crusader Fleet [First Crusader]
//NIO Fleeters://
Tyrell Paxxus
,
Marlon Sularen
,
Del Lovruc
//Enemies:// Sith-Imperial Armada Fleeters and Pilots //
Nica Dakkar
NIO Second Imperial Armada Battle Group “Scourge” [IABG2-SCG]
“Destroyer 1, this is HTC, copy?” a voice called into Cheapshot’s helmet comms.
The Zeltron ex-pirate turned NIO TIE Pilot, Delilaff Wildwynd, otherwise known by her callsign Cheapshot, leaned over in her cockpit’s seat. She hunched forward over her control yoke and peered out the octagonal viewport of her TIE/VX Vanguard. The viewport looked out into the hangar bay of the Karak Marasiah. At the far end of the hangar, below the hanging deck that docked the various TIEs of the star destroyer’s TIE compliment
(81st New Imperial Fighter Group), was an armored viewing balcony that jutted from the wall.
The balcony was the bay’s Hangar Traffic Control. Cheapshot strained to make out the figures within the small slits of the control room’s windows. The figures sat around the control panels that lined the control room, keeping vigil over the hangar’s systems. She cynically waved at them, making jeering gestures that jokingly asked them to shut up and not bother her.
“I copy,” Cheapshot eventually relented, “What’s my status?”
“Destroyer Flight is ‘Go’ for sortie,” replied HTC, continuing, “Be advised that Fly Hazard Parameters are still at max levels. And that we are now closing in on the DSZ’s first layer. There are immediate obstacles on take-off, the CIC’s SensorComm have them noted as Debris Cluster-Aurek-Two-Six-Niner on your navicomp data.”
Cheapshot snarled her lips and smacked them as she punched the buttons on her navicomp display to boot it up. Sure enough the monitor displayed a spectral plume that showed locked sensor scans of a large debris cluster drifting into the Karak Marasiah. Small stark lettering labelled it just like HTC had said - DCL (Debris Cluster) A-2-6-9, with the numbers marking its coordinates and path-vector.
“How copy?” HTC punctuated their debrief with a read-back plea.
“Copy, Aurek-Two-Six-Niner, will steer clear,” said Cheapshot.
“Roger,” HTC snapped, “Maintain Comms-Squawk Two-Three-Four, stand-by.”
“Lovely,” Cheapshot growled to herself, “A waltz through space junk and hidden S-IMP Fighters.”
She retreated back into her seat and began pre-flight final checks.
She checked her sensors, her targeting computer, and the shields. She yanked the control yoke from side to side, monitoring it’s response to her motions, and checked the Ion Engine power and efflux output. The pre-flight check was like instinct, an exercise in muscle memory due to the number of times she had already practiced it before. It freed her mind to think of other things. Like the DSZ, the massive sea of debris that was the Debris Shoal Zone over Dubrillion.
Hours before, in the TIE Pilot
Ready Room next to the hangar bay, General Giaforr Ferhann had made the severity of the DSZ well known when he read out the Group’s Attack Tasking Orders (ATO). The one-eyed
Durosian was NIO’s Joint Force Starfighter Component Commander (JFSCC), leading the NIO starfighters who would be teaming with the Galactic Alliance pilots during the Joint-Operation against the Sith-Imperial Armada. He’s words were law, and as such, the pilots of the 81st had come to nickname him “Big Bad Baron” or “Trip-Bee”.
“The DSZ has gotten bigger since the second wave. Expect extreme hazardous conditions for combat operations,” said Ferhann.
“It’s a mess. Spacejunk everywhere. Sensors are going to be lit up like a kaleidoscope because of all the debris, so keep them clean and stick to secondary Magno-Sweepers
readings to keep track of the trash. Keep your sensors clean and your targeting comps fresh.”
For the last several hours the first two waves of NIO Second Imperial Armada Battle Group
“Scourge” had smashed into the Sith fleets and the two had worn themselves down into a hefty ring of space junk.
“The DSZ is not only vast in it’s extension laterally from the orbit of the planet, it’s spread vertically over the circumference as well, so just changing attack vectors to dive below or above it will leave us exposed to Sith counterattack,” Ferhann continued.
“Sith have amassed their defenses in and around the DSZ,” Ferhann said, “there are some elements left over from the first two waves still fighting. And with the maneuverability for capitals in the DSZ limited, we are going to be doing a lot of heavy lifting to guard the fleet.”
They were going to be surrounded by debris, in all directions and vectors. Keeping formation cohesion would be difficult with all the bobbing and weaving they would have to do. And plenty of unseen vectors of attack. Who knew what was behind a chunk of space junk when you were rounding that corner. A sly smirk stretched over Cheapshot’s lips, room for some maneuvers at least. In build to Operation Harpoon, the NIO Fleet had been marching up Myto’s Arrow, and the action there was sparse. Replaced by mind numbing patrol shifts. Now there was a fight and it was going to get ugly. It reminded her of the old days, being a pirate out in a belt, stalking ships and hiding behind asteroids to mask ambushes.
“We are going to have to be the fleet’s eyes and ears on this one, going to be a lot of cat and mouse chasing,” Ferhann’s last words echoed in her mind’s furthest corners. “We are their sword and shield.”
“Sword and shield huh,” Cheapshot parroted Ferhann as she recalled the final words of his ATO briefing.
“Destroyer Flight full sortie in t-minus ten,” HTC chimed in with background chatter that addressed all of Cheapshot’s flight. “Flight Squawk designated at Encrypted-Comms Channel Niner-Three-Two.”
Cheapshot tapped at her controls activating the encrypted channel of communication with her flight assigned by HTC. As she patched it through she spoke to her fellow Destroyer Flight pilots.
“Fangs Out boys and girls here we go,” Cheapshot cheered.
“Destroyer 1, you are clear,” said HTC speaking directly to Cheapshot. “Happy hunting.”
She pressed her fingers around the control-sticks of her yoke and finally flipped the switch for Ion Engines to throttle up. She briefly drew one hand back closed it into a fist, tilted her head down to lightly touch it and whispered a prayer. Then she tapped her helmet with the fist, released her fist, and with it, sending off the prayer into the void where it would drift to whatever
high power could be listening.
“Roger, Ready,” said Cheapshot.
“Rack Release in 3...2...1…,” HTC’s countdown triggered the holding clamps on the
TIE Hangar Rack Deck to separate and release the TIE’s eyeball fuselage.
The starfighter abruptly droped just as the repulsorlifts kick in and catches the craft, pulling into a bobbling suspension. Cheapshot pressed the throttle and pushed the yoke forward, tilting the entire starfighter forward. Acceleration forces pressed on her body as the starfighter exploded out of the hanger, charging out in heavy linear accelerating thrust.
The Vanguard screamed as its Ion engines spat a cerulean glowing halo of propelling efflux. When she was clear of the vast underbelly of the Defiance-Class star destroyer, Cheapshot eased the throttle and levelled her TIE into a cruising velocity. But, almost immediately the vast debris of the DSZ had come to impede her path. DLC-A-2-6-9 had come to greet her. The cluster was a fleet of shipwreck chunks torn into a shrapnel spray. The largest chunk was rotating right onto her flight path.It was a hulking mass of carnage that once was the aft section of a battlecruiser. She couldn’t tell whether it was Sith or NIO. But, when ships exploded like that, it didn’t matter anymore who commanded it.
Rounding the mass of debris could leave her exposed. Who knew what or who could cut her off around the corner. Inspecting the wreck, Cheapshot noticed a wide opening inside it. Judging how she could pass through, she angled her shields to the sides to protect the solar panels of her TIE’s three arms and again taxed her throttle. Her Vanguard sped through the opening passing by the blurred visages of entombed crewmen drifting like dead leaves in the wind. Exiting the wreck she quickly pushed the control yoke down, having to dive below a secondary piece of wreckage that was floating above the previous.
Passing A-2-6-9, Cheapshot flashed a quick glance down and saw the navicomp had now brought up a new DLC to busy her. It was going to be one after another. Assisted by the Magno-Sweeper, Cheapshots sensors were bringing a dizzying input of tagged debris signatures. It was just as the Big Bad Baron, Ferrhan had said. Like a kaleidoscope. Thousands of dots, marking debris and incoming metallic signatures. Cheapshot looked back to her viewport and began making gentle weaving and swaying flying maneuvers to avoid the smaller pieces of debris. As she did so, she called out to her flight.
“All Fighters report,” Cheapshot said.
“Destroyer 2, reporting,” a Twi’lek voice called out.
“Destroyer 3, copy,” replied a deep growl with a Bastion accent.
4 replied last and then Cheapshot nodded.
“Good,” Cheapshot confirmed,
“Lots of garbage around, so I don’t want any of us sucking panel tips. Spread out. Keep to elements.”
“Fly as fragged. We cover Bombers Flight (
Jalter Volff
)
on their sortie and rendezvous our precious Jedi Flyboy friends. Copy?”
“Roger that,” replied her flight crew.
“Alright, Destroyer 2, follow me,” Cheapshot said.
She and her wingmate formed a loose echelon and moved into positions that were discussed ahead of time in the briefing. The entire flight had been separated into two elements, two groups of two. With Cheapshot and Darkstar 2 flying well below, 3 and 4. 3 and 4 were also flying further ahead, they were bait. A maneuver to lure into hungry pilots looking to pick off an element that appeared to be detached from a supporting wing. It was an old trick,
Feint and Backstab.
Cheapshot, bunch new commands for her sensors as the flights moved into their combat positions. WIth a combination of
Long-Range Spectrometry Equipment and
Magno-Sweeper identifying debris and distinguishing them from the metal signatures of known Sith Starfighters in the NIO combat archives, as well as,
Dedicated Energy Receptor scanning for an electromagnetic signatures, Cheapshot had made sure she wasn’t blinded by the busy work of trying to traverse the DSZ.
Now they would wait. First, she would have to link up with her Commanding Squadron XO, and his Darkstar Flight. In addition to any GA fly-boys who were flying joint with her destroyers. Or they’d hit S-IMPs first. It was hard to tell. Anything could spring out from a piece of space junk. At any time.
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
