RC 212
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!
1st Battle Group
Task Force 01
[member="Sentus Olan"]-[member="Damon Grisom"]
VCS Dawn: Jast 1st RateVCS Faith: Jast 2nd Rate
VCS Punisher: Jast Starfighter Killer Frigate
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"We'd be alright, if the wind was in our sails."
Bridge of the VCS DawnNear Hast
They had left their world behind. Hundreds of refugees that has sailed with the Silvers when they left. But so many hadn't made it. Neither checked in on Kashyyk nor came back. Colap surmised it might have been a true abandonment to the outer rim. But no that was not these people.
"How's it going?" He asked Admiral Tawny, a raven haired woman in her dress blacks, pony tail tight.
"Its shet. Pirates wrecked the convoys for sure. We've been tracking their Ion drive sigs since we pushed em back from Voss airspace."
"Hmph."
She snapped a look sideways. Colap could see the blood vessels almost bursting in her eyes. She was dead tired, as were they all. A week or two of solid ground fighting on Voss to remove Rogue Jedi turned Sith. A wicked orbital battle to drive back a Pirate Strike Force.
And now they were giving chase, spreading what little of the Battle group there was over the three systems to try and find these folks. If not for the sake of Justice, morality. To give their families that last call before they gave them up.
"Seems odd."
"As in?"
"The Pirate forces outnumbered us in Orbit three to one, and then peeled off. That was a set up for a trap, but they never came back. Then Chief of State Terril sends out on a wild goose chase."
"You think he's a mole then? A fifth column in the Confederacy, paid off by foreign interests?" Colap shot back, crossing his arms and leaning back against the rail.
"No but I-Shet! Contact! All crew battle stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship!"
Colap jumped, not used to Tawney's Command voice. She spoke softer than a cat mewling on most days. He glanced down at the TAC map and out the view port. Space was ripping apart, Pirate Cutters and a few Cruisers piling down on them. Already streams of fighters and drop ships were ripping from their sides like angry hornets.
VCS Punisher opened up, the Starfighter Killer Frigate sending waves of lethal flak clouds out, then hammering into them with quad-lasers and auto cannons. Fighters exploded in suicide runs, others shredded them-selfs into the clouds, on suicide runs.
Their fuselages were simply peeled to ribbons of nothing.
"Feth me. I'm no good in space. The ground is my game Tawney!"
She whirled, eyes alight.
"You'll have to be today Colap. Now get your ass to my Marines and assist the defense."
"They're coming for this ship?" Colap asked, as another fighter screamed past the view port, shedding it's rear end.
"Look!"
He looked. They wee the target of a full court boarding attempt, Gunships with Jolly Rogers on their front closing in.
"This was a set up. Feth me."
He reached down with one hand, unclipped his helmet, and jammed it on....