Rogue Squadron Mission: Lost Lothalites

[Asmus Janes]

Spoiler

[*]NPC - Rogue One[/*]
[*][member="Aedan Lochlan"] - Rogue Two[/*]
[*][member="Tela Uolmi"] - Rogue Three[/*]
[*][member="Berric Kelso"] - Rogue Four[/*]
[*]Loske Matson - Rogue Five[/*]
[*][member="Alicia Frost"] - Rogue Six[/*]
[*][member="Choli Vyn"] - Rogue Seven[/*]
[*][member="Encouragement Gets"] - Rogue Eight [/*]
[*][member="Asmus Janes"] - Rogue Nine[/*]
[*][member="Areiana Slayer"] - Rogue Ten[/*]
[*][member="Alexandra Russo"] - Rogue Eleven[/*]
[*][member="Lucius Varad"] - Rogue Twelve[/*]
[/LIST]

"Confirm, I have bogey. Scratch that I have two, four, oh dear..." Asmus's eyes went wide at the number of red tracks appearing on his display. The HUD on the inside of his helmet augmented his view through the canopy, highlighting the locations of the incoming vessels. "I have twenty red tracks on my screen!"

Asmus kept his X-Wing at the same pace, engines running at quarter power. There was no such thing as absolute velocity in space, only relative velocity. In a chase scenario one vessel could cut their engines and maintain the same velocity relative to some static reference, such as a planet or base ship. However the other ship could fire engines and close. In essence two vessels maintaining the same distance in a pursuit were both maintaining speed relative to each other, but to an outside observer would be seen to both be constantly accelerating. Wrapping one's head around the lack of up, and down and any real absolute reference of position was one of the first parts of becoming a pilot.

Asmus always liked to imagine that forwards was down and he was falling upon his enemies. It seemed to open up tactical avenues for some reason.

"I'm assuming we're getting close to the transport, or at least we were close enough for them to spot us dropping out of hyperspace," Asmus called. Reverting to realspace always caused a burst of Cronau radiation, easily detected by any craft in the region.

"I'm seeing some kind of advanced TIE. They're not slowing down." Asmus wasn't aware of any friendly forces using any kind of TIE variant.

"Form up, attack positions!" Rogue One called.

 

[Alexandra Porte]

Rogue Leader/One (NPC) [member="Aedan Lochlan"]/Two [member="Tela Uolmi"]/Three [member="Berric Kelso"]/Four [member="Loske Matson"]/Five [member="Alicia Frost"]/Six [member="Choli Vyn"]/Seven [member="Encouragement Gets"]/Eight [member="Asmus Janes"]/Nine [member="Areiana Slayer"]/Ten @Alexandra Russo/Eleven [member="Lucius Varad"]/Twelve

Russo's copper red R2 unit sent information scrolling across her data screen in the cockpit. Seems Nine was correct. The inbound bogies were an Advanced TIE variant, which meant deflector shields, a hyperdrive, and warhead launchers most likely; perhaps even a tractor beam projector as an added bonus…. Oh goodie goodie, spoiled brats?! Rogues would be equally matched in a general sense, though outnumbered 20 to 12. Just meant the Galactic Alliance's elite squadron would have to be that much better; hit harder and faster, maybe even think outside of the box a little.

Eleven double-clicked her response to Rogue Leader's order over the squadron's comm channel, then the determined brunette reached forward on the flight console and flipped a switch to lock her T-70's S-foils into attack position same time as her wingman.

"All power to the forward shield, Rusty, switching to proton torpedoes," Alex said to her astromech droid.

​A targeting box appeared on the heads-up-display and Russo maneuvered the X-wing to drop the sight on the lead bogey in one of the approaching flights. The range indicator ticked down as her snubfighter closed on the enemy craft. She nudged the control stick to the left and framed the incoming fighter perfectly. The box went red and a strident beep filled the cockpit. Alleycat hit the trigger and the first torpedo sped in at it's target. Another torpedo from behind streaked past her starboard wing and raced toward a second enemy fighter craft ahead.

Hopefully they would be true hits for both pilots as the Rogues really needed to make short work of this lot of brights in order to get to the transport the Alliance sent them after.

 

[Choli Vyn]

"I'm seeing some kind of advanced TIE. They're not slowing down."

Wait what?! A starled Choli gave a double take, swinging her gaze from the viewport over towards her sensor array. She knew that it wouldn't be easy. Why couldn't things be easy!? Already there were a number of blips on her sensor, and they were coming in fast.

"Form up, attack positions!"

[ Roger that Nine, moving alongside Seven. ] the snubfighter under the controls of the young starfigher pilot eased into attack position. She was getting better at it, but she was still one of the most inexperienced in the squad. While Chloe taught her how to fly, a starfighter was an al together different story.

Racking her proton torpedos, she swallowed hard as the range indicator brought those TIE fighters swooping in.

Here we go!

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“Hot hot hot!” Loske breathed fervently, the sequence of words on each accelerated heartbeat of hers as the incoming opposition made itself very visible. “Twenty?” She responded, but sure enough, her Heads-Up Display reflected the same amount of chicken pox spread throughout the debris. TIEs everywhere - perhaps Vanguard?

“Frank, can you get a reading on that clutch? Have we seen them anywhere?”

[Running scans now.] The droid confirmed, bustling down into his alcove to complement the actions of his flying mistress.

There was the call for attack positions, and she moved to release her S-foils into their tell-tale cross. Their namesake was impressive when all the Rogues were on the same page, like a hoard of dragonflies with gossamer wings piercing through the vacuum of space.

“Looks like we’re going to be bumping straightaway,” The blonde confirmed, chattering both to herself and her AI companion rotating around in the back. It wasn’t sooner than she’d released that sentiment than a spray of crimson unleashed from the wall of opposition ahead of them.

“Shields up, shields up, shields up! To the front!” Frank did as he was told, and the spray of red washed over her viewport with alarming accuracy. They keep this up, and they’d all be suicide sleds in no time. “These bogies aren’t playing around,” Loske stated, obviously. “What say we give them the show? One, Nine ([member="Asmus Janes"]), seven ([member="Choli Vyn"]), eleven ([member="Alexandra Russo"]) take the 3-9. Twelve ([member="Lucius Varad"]), Three ([member="Tela Uolmi"]), Two ([member="Aedan Lochlan"]) and Fourteen ([member="Owen Holst"]) — shall we split and flank left and right?”