Faction [THP] Time for us to fly...

[Nash Tavros]

​

Nash barely had time to return to his seat with his coffee before they were off again. So they had decided to go with the half-baked plan, entertaining no alternatives or suggestions. That suited him, he supposed, but he did idly wonder if the combination of obstinance and complacency might one day get him or others killed. We'll drive off the side of that bridge when we get to it, he thought dully. Death seemed like it might be a welcome relief at this point. He was tired of being tired, of being harrowed by the grief and rage that multiplied in him when he opened his eyes every morning and remembered that Sev was dead, every time he went to call out to his mentor only to remember he was dead. It was equal parts stone in his stomach and fire in his blood.

For now, he would use that fire, fuel it, and kill Imperials. That was his sole purpose in life.

He nodded to Michael Angellus as he passed and hustled up the ladder into his fighter, where he quickly ran through his pre-flight. The board was green. He smoothed his excellent hair back, jammed his helmet down over it, and activated his comms. "Striker Eleven, standing by."

Michael Angellus | Gym Halpern | Susanoo Tsukuyomi | Kayla Luspark
Devin Virell | Zane Cameron | Alison Sky | Supisy Blen | Aelara-9​

 

[Supisy Blen]

Objective: First mission with the Hidden Path
Location: Odessen
Outfit:Atrisian Flight Suit
Tags: Michael Angellus | Devin Virell | Zane Camreon | Nash Tavros | Alison Sky | Kayla Luspark | Susanoo Tsukuyomi | Gym Halpern | Aelara-9

Supisy found her X-wing and gave a brief sigh. Hers was different than the others she had passed. There was an extra canopy? Was this a good special or a bad sort of special? It was not something Supisy really should have been thinking about. The other pilots were getting locked into positions and she just stood there staring.

Then someone called Supisy's name. She turned to the voice and smiled seeing a cute young woman in a flight suit similar to her own, unzipped in a similar fashion as well. Supisy returned the salute accompanied by a subtle twitch of her lekku. She hummed and moved her lekku behind her shoulders and strode forward. "Please call me Supisy." the young Twi'lek responded. A biot…not exactly a droid, but pretty close. And Saotome was Atrisian, was someone keeping tabs on Supisy?

In the end it didn't matter she would get to defend her new home and fly a new ship she never had. And the droid was pretty cute as already stated. The others would end up with R2s or BBs, Aelara was definitely a jump up from any astromech in Supisy's estimation. And she had spent most of her life with a copilot so not a lot different.

The news that the fighter was prepped and ready widened Supisy's grin. She was never much for the prep work, much preferring to jump right into the action. "Well I always dance better with a partner. I am sure we'll get along just fine. I am not that great with details, if you see an adjustment can be made to improve things don't hesitate. I move my feet fast, hardly ever have my toes stepped on." she gave a giggle and made towards the ladder, placing a hand on Aelara's shoulder as she passed. "Let's show these guys what Atrisian pilots can do." With that Supisy climbed the ladder jumping the last step into the cockpit and put on her helmet flipping the last switches of the start up routine. Once Aelara was set behind her Supisy activated the squad comm channel. "Striker-12 is ready to launch."

 

[Alison Sky]

“Striker 5, awaiting lift off command.”

Her droid beeped and she glanced down at the screen that displayed the binary words. For now she could hear Dee Dee but in space that wasn’t always the case so the screen came in handy.

“Not yet Dee. Let’s wait for the command.”

Apparently her droid was ready to rock and roll.

 

[Susanoo Tsukuyomi]

Kayla Luspark Michael Angellus Alison Sky Nash Tavros Devin Virell Zane Cameron Alison Sky Supisy Blen

THe others were filing out and Susanoo found her flight. The two were there and seemed to already know each other which was good.. or at least she figured they would get along quickly. Tarno and Brady were an impressive enough as they walked. Commander Kayla had given them what to do and they would dope it out as they went as she approached the x-wings and forewent the ladder. Pulling herself up and into the cockpit as the other two were climbing into theirs. Susanoo rolled her shoulders as her interface was reading the cockpit with designations appearing to tell her what it was scanning and translating.

"Striker five in and ready." The voice came over and Susanoo nodded while adding it to her interface. "Striker eight ready." It was added in. "Striker seven report." Her voice came while she looked over the interface adding it as needed. Her makie droid found a place in the x-wings astromech slot while it secured itself. "I guess you aare snug as well?" SHe said it aand it blipped on her interface in confirmation. Her eyes drifted to the glove but with pre-flight checks done and somewhat comfortable in her cockpit the giant of an Atrisian secured the helmet. "Striker five ready." They would follow strike leader as Kayla would set the tone while she enforced it.

 

[Kayla Luspark]

Zane Cameron Devin Virell Susanoo Tsukuyomi Evran Myles Michael Angellus Alison Sky Nash Tavros Supisy Blen Aelara-9

---

As the pilots broke with the dismissal, Kayla melded through the crowd, making her way to Susanoo and Michael. Taking a minute to pull them aside an give out preliminary plans for when they actually got to the strike. What they'd hit and how. Then the next phase. The goal was to hit hard and fast, but then adapt to what intel they had and try to address the other concerns. Flexible operational plans.

The best they could do was plan for what they knew and then stay flexible and adaptable for the rest. So with their assigned flight roles set, they were dismissed to their fighters. With Kayla warning to keep their comms on ridiculously low power if they had to talk while still on the approach to the strike. The last thing they needed were stray comms signals giving them away. Do their best to remain in communications blackout until they hit the ridge.

And ... one last thing, she might not know Susanoo, but as she addressed them both, she added she was grateful they were there.

With that she broke from them, hoping they would be enough to herd the rest of the cats. But if they were as good as they all were on paper, this shouldn't be a bad run.

Lots of ifs and shoulds in those lines of thinking.

Kayla shook it off as best she could, then checked over her dark green flight suit. Everything seemed to be in order. Hair pulled back into a tight bun. Rangy strides took her to the X-wing she'd been given. Hers was stored nearby. But for unit cohesion, they were all given the same model.

Stopping short of the ladder, she reached out to climb, but her hand jittered in the air. In truth her whole body trembled. She felt like she needed to go for a run, but right now there was no time. Instead she resorted to a short bout of jumping jacks then push-ups to bleed off some of the excess energy, the nerves.

That done, her hands were steadier now. A moment later she dropped into her seat. Vidu warbled something at her she vaguely noted as a greeting and question, but ignored him for the moment.

She reached out and started flicking switches. Battery... on. The electronics in the cockpit flared to life. Bus... on. The multi-function display came to life. Reactor on. Real power cycled into the systems now. Reaching down, she fed power into the first bank of engines. They whined to life, and then another tweak spooled up the second set.

Countermeasures... on. Communications... "Striker Lead, comms check?"
Vidu warbled behind her. [Comms are good.]
"Good, find me ATC and our squadron channels."
[On it, boss.]

Reaching out, Kayla flipped the switch to shut the canopy. In front of her the power management systems showed shields and weapons charging, with even distribution for the shields.

A moment later various members of the squadron checked in, and some were already lifting off. They'd have to establish some semblance of order after this. It was fine for now, didn't matter as much. But carrier operations it would. Last in was usually first out.

Canopy sealed and closed, Kayla fed power into the repulsors, lifting from the deck smoothly. A flick of a switch retracted the landing skids while she continued to climb. With one hand she dialed back the inertial dampers back to good old ninety-five percent.

"Striker lead in the air. Let's break atmo and form up. Two flight take my right, three flight, my left. Echelon formations."


The planet began to fall away, and moments later she switched to sublight engines, day turning to night sky. "Standby for jump coordinates." She turned her attention tot he droid. "Vidu?"
[Alright boss, hold your banthas.]
"When you have us plotted, feed the course data to the rest of the unit. Let me know when that's done."
[Will do.]

It wasn't long before the data scrawled across her screen and Vidu reported the rest had the jump coordinated. "Alright, we're jumping on my mark, in three... two... one.. mark."

Reaching out, she engaged the hyperdrive. Stars streaked into lines, leaping forward. Striker lead disappeared into hyperspace with a flicker of pseudomotion.

Hours later...

Kayla watched the timer tick down to zero. The mottled blue-white sky of hyperspace shattered into a million lines, resolving into stars. This was the second jump.

The first put them on the edge of the system, and a quick head count showed all had made it. Good. The system was part of a hyperspace tangle. Thankfully they had relatively recent jump information and it seemed it was still good. A lot of people coming here got trapped on the edge of the system. Her jump here had been deliberate, rather than damaging.

The second jump, was as equally prudent.

"Vidu, get me a headcount."
[All accounted for.]

Good, the second micro-jump across the system had worked. The marble of Giaca hung overhead, they were just on the edge of the mass shadow gradient strong enough to pull them out of hyperspace. Exactly where she wanted.

Angling for their insertion point, she fed power to engines and shields, breaking atmosphere. They were in it now, dropping like meteors.

Nine hours later...
Kayla groaned, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, trying to take the pressure off her tailbone. Vidu sounded a mild drift alarm. A touch of etheric rudder shifted the X-wing's nose back on course as they skimmed over the landscape. "Time to target?"

[One minute.]

With a nod, Kayla shifted her shields to double front, but fed more power to guns, mindful of the rising terrain as they skimmed along toward the mountain range and the coming valley.

Thirty seconds... Come on, come on. She reached up to trigger S-foils, locking them open. The others should follow suit.

There, she could see the ridge, and the saddle, the higher one she wanted. Tighter squeeze, but would allow her to get into position faster. She could only trust the rest of first flight, trailing behind her would form up for it.

Ten.. five... The X-wing threaded the needle and the ridge dropped away behind her. Kayla shoved the flight stick forward, dropping the nose, letting her X-wing dive like a dragon flowing down the side of the mountain.

"Vidu, find me the lead juggernaut. Paint the others." Without waiting for the droid, she switched comms on, full power. "Hit em! Nine, hit the tail. Five shock the middle."

 

[Gym Halpern]

PERSONAL LOG: FLEET CAPTAIN GYM HALPERN (RET.)
DATE: [REDACTED]
LOCATION: Odessen
PRIORITY: Secured / Personal Eyes Only
ASSIGNMENT: Operation Phoenix Sunrise - Phase 2
STATUS: Executing




BEGIN LOG ENTRY

As I ordered clearance for the squadron to depart, all that was left was the waiting. This was the part I did not like.

–Halpern
Fleet Captain, Naval Engineering Division
GUARDIAN AUTHORITY LTD.
END LOG ENTRY

The hangar lights of the base dimmed to combat red as Striker Squadron’s X-wings roared to life. One by one, their engines spat blue fire across the launch bay, the rising whine becoming a chorus of defiance. Twelve fighters peeled from their racks in staggered sequence, wings splitting into attack position as they surged into the void.

In the line, Michael Angellus felt the familiar tug of acceleration press against his chest. For just a moment, there was silence — the kind that always came before the jump. Then the stars stretched into streaks of white, and Striker Squadron was gone.

Hyperspace engulfed them. The brilliant, endless tunnel reflected across transparisteel canopies, engines humming in perfect sync. For hours the fighters traveled in silence, each pilot alone with their thoughts, the mission brief replaying in their heads. They knew the odds. They knew the stakes. None of them flinched.

The navicomputers beeped in near-unison. The tunnel collapsed, and the stars snapped back into place. Directly ahead, Giaca hung against the void — a cold, gray world wreathed in clouds, its southern pole cast in endless shadow.

They hit the atmosphere like knives. White contrails flared across the sky, the squadron diving as one into the storm. Sensors screamed warnings at the turbulence, but the pilots kept their formation tight, dropping lower, lower still, until mountains became walls around them and the clouds were their only cover.

For nine unbroken hours, Striker Squadron skimmed the skin of the planet. They rode valleys, carved through canyons, wove through volcanic spires — nap-of-the-earth flying with only meters between survival and a fiery crater. Their dampeners stayed dialed low, their signatures masked by the very terrain they hugged. To the Imperials above, they were just background noise — indistinguishable from the mountains themselves.

At last, the target region came into view. Over two hundred square kilometers of wasteland stretched ahead, bleak and lifeless. At its heart, rising like a crown of lies, stood the “refinery.” Smoke stacks reached for the sky, conveyors wound across the ground, lights blinked in feigned industry. But there were no mines. No raw resources. No reason for this place to exist — except as a mask for something darker.

The land to the south was nothing but open plains, flat and featureless. At its center, the ground split apart as a massive platform rose into the air, revealing a mag-lev track beneath. The hovertrain screamed across the land, bristling with guns, armored plates glinting in the light. And then the plain itself seemed to come alive.

Turbolaser towers erupted from hidden bunkers, lifting into firing position, row after row until the landscape glittered with death. Sensors flickered and blurred under a wash of high-energy interference. The entire southern quadrant was a kill zone, a snare disguised as industry.

To the northwest, the mountains loomed like jagged teeth, and cutting through them was a narrow pass. It was there the real convoy crept forward — three Juggernauts boxed in by four hovertanks. Armored columns moving in perfect formation, shielding the prize in their midst. Sensors read the same life signs across each Juggernaut, but one — the central behemoth — burned hotter. Eight to ten life signatures inside, unarmored, unmistakable.

The black site was waiting. So were they.

Michael’s comm crackled, breaking the silence. A familiar voice cut through the static, calm and unhurried, almost casual, he heard what everyone else did.

[“Hawkbat, this is Womprat… lunchtime.”]

Gabriel’s signal. Omega Squad had sprung the trap. They were assaulting the train from whatever position they were in. Those 8 were professionals, 7 operators and a Jedi. They could handle themselves, and the train.

Striker Squadron throttled forward. The real fight was about to begin.

This is what he is saying to people, just like a cutaway

TAG: Kayla Luspark | @Devin Virell| Zane Cameron | Nash Tavros | Susanoo Tsukuyomi | Alison Sky | Supisy Blen | Evran Myles

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

PERSONAL FLIGHT LOG – Entry # 2019
Location: – Odessen
Assigned Craft: My X-wing
Astromech Partner: BRED (BB-30)
Current Mood: Bored
Background Noise: I can’t hear anything over the spherical Diva.

12 hours ago.

[Alright 3 Flight! Let’s get out of here!

“Weeep-bwoo.” [Translation: The quicker we start this, the quicker we end it.]
I will say this. I like my X-wing, but this model lifts off clean. We were in atmo and climbing before I even really snapped out of the trance I was in looking around at the other fighters. This was both cool and nerve wracking at the same time.

"Striker lead in the air. Let's break atmo and form up. Two flight take my right, three flight, my left. Echelon formations."[/QUOTE[

[Alright 3 Flight! Form up!]

“Woop-bweep.” [Translation: I actually like this part.]

Before long, we were in hyperspace and on our way.

9 hours ago.
“Weep-bwoop.” [Translation: This part, I hate.]

[Dropping out of hyperspace in 3… 2… 1..!]

So weird, hard to describe that feeling of dropping out of hyperspace. Like someone grabbed you by the collar as you walked by. The planet was … unique… I mean, it was supposed to be green, lush and beautiful. This just seemed… weird… almost manufactured. Then again, we were making way to the Southern Pole for entry.

Present Time.

“Brrt-Awoo.” [Translation: The grumpy bucket of bolts in the lead fighter is painting targets. I already found the one we’re looking for, it’s in the middle Juggernaut.]

BRED calling another droid “grumpy”, heh, never thought I would see the day.

[3 Flight, drop to 200 feet and lock S-Foils in attack positions.]

“Boo-Weep” [Translation: A flight of TIEs are running high altitude patrol to the South heading West.]

They were heading away from us. We’re good for at least now.

[Keep an eye on them.]

“Weet-Whiirrr” [Translation: I only have one eye!]

[It’s an expression. 3 Flight. That rear Juggernaut? Let’s test out those ion cannons we were fit with on it. Those rear hovertanks? Blow’em away!]

– Michael A.
This is it!

TAG: Kayla Luspark | @Devin Virell| Zane Cameron | Nash Tavros | Susanoo Tsukuyomi | Alison Sky | Supisy Blen | Evran Myles

This is where he is speaking

 

[Evran Myles]

It was going to be really nice to be back in the pilots seat.

The past few months he had been busy trying to sell contracts rather than doing what he truly loved. Granted, it was the fact that he and his twin brother were able to make things work which allowed him the opportunity to escape from Corellia and become something more. Else he'd probably have just ended up another street rat, stuck doing grunt work for CEC or something. MAYBE he would have gotten to work for CorSec, but he kind of doubted that as well. He was a bit too loose with regulations for that sort of thing.

"Striker 7, ready," he called into comms once everything was fired up.

Like the others, he piloted his fighter out of the hangar and up through the atmosphere per the orders of Squadron Lead. They had a mission, and yeah, he'd been quiet during the briefing, but honestly that was because he was still trying to get a feel for all of his fellow squadron mates. Most of them he'd never met before. Ok, well, all of them he hadn't, though they were all exceptional pilots.

Either way, the flight through hyperspace on the various jumps was rather uneventful. No chatter, just precision. He could appreciate that. This wasn't a no-nonsense squadron all the time, he was sure, but when it came time for a mission, even he wanted to focus. Yeah, he liked to party and he was a bit of a play boy given the money he had available to him, but it didn't change the fact that he had applied for this elite squadron because of his skills and because of the fact it would give him an opportunity to protect Corellia from a looming threat. He was serious about the mission.

They arrived in the mission system with little trouble. The target? Juggernauts. The squadron dipped into the atmosphere and begin the flight towards their target, and he waited until lead shifted before doing anything. As the others locked their s-foils in attack position, he did the same, following suit and threading the needle along with the rest of the squadron.

"At your 4 o'clock, lead," he called to Susanoo Tsukuyomi , letting her know his position.

Showtime.

OUTFIT: Green Flightsuit, Helmet (See Header) | GEAR: Blaster Pistol, Vibroknife
TAGS: Supisy Blen | Michael Angellus | Zane Cameron | Devin Virell | Nash Tavros | Alison Sky | Kayla Luspark | Susanoo Tsukuyomi | Gym Halpern | Aelara-9 ​

 

[Devin Virell]

Gym Halpern Michael Angellus Susanoo Tsukuyomi Kayla Luspark Zane Cameron Supisy Blen Evran Myles Alison Sky Nash Tavros Evran Myles

​

Nearly nine hours of flying had left the stick molded to his hand. Devin’s back ached, his legs were beyond stiff, and the cockpit smelled of ozone and sweat. He told himself he’d flown worse, but the cockpit didn’t seem to care.. it pressed in all the same.

With the flick of a switch, the wings spread wide.

There was no turning back now..

The ridge fell away, and the valley opened like a scar.

He exhaled, a dry breath that might’ve been a laugh on a different day, but there wasn't anything funny about this one.

One of the sensors screamed. The throttle was nudged forward, X-Wing dropping into the dive. His stomach lurched, and adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he kept it checked. The ghosts of Coruscant settled right in beside him, quiet as always, along for the ride. Vibrations were crawling into his bones.

Devin’s jaw tightened as voices rang through the comms. Clear orders, no room for doubt. His number hadn’t been called, but power shifted forward, ready to support the plan.

“Four copies, Lead. I’ll clear the escorts off Five’s lane.”

Hovertanks look lonely anyway..

The reticle began dancing. Devin was itching for it to fall into place. Eyes narrowed. It wasn’t much different than a stand-up fight.. ain’t no one ever giving you free hits. So he was already calculating the return, waiting for those red bolts that’d come screaming back.

His finger found the trigger. No hesitation.

Things aligned, and he squeezed.

The cannons spat green lances.. four at a time.

 

[Aelara-9]

Location: Giaca
Tag: Gym Halpern Michael Angellus Susanoo Tsukuyomi Kayla Luspark Devin Virell Nash Tavros Zane Cameron Alison Sky Supisy Blen Evran Myles

“I agree. Let’s show them what you can do.”

Aelara offered a soft smile in return as Supisy placed a hand on her shoulder, before watching protectively as she ascended the ladder. Seeing that the Twi’lek was steady, the gynoid followed suit by floating up towards the cockpit via her integrated repulsorlifts, before gracefully settling down in the back seat. Strapping herself in, she initiated the start-up sequences, deft, slender fingers flipping through switches as the X-Wing slowly came to life. At the same time, she linked herself with the X-Wing’s computers via her cranial uplink, at which point the starfighter’s systems unfolded before her computerized awareness, allowing her to manipulate them directly.

"Striker-12 is ready to launch."

“Striker 12-1, reporting. Uplinked and ready.”

Moments later, the X-Wing took off as soon as the shooter gave the signal to launch, surging out from the hangar before ascending into the upper atmosphere, and soon thereafter the dark void of space…

---

[3 Flight, drop to 200 feet and lock S-Foils in attack positions.]

The world shrank to the shriek of tortured air and the shudder of the X-Wing’s frame. They were in it, now—two pilots in a steel dart hurling towards the crucible of battle.

“Weapons primed and charged.” Aelara’s voice came in serene contrast to the chaos, a melody woven through the roar of the engines and the static over comms. Her synthetic gaze remained locked on the scopes, fingers dancing across the console with balletic precision. “Enemy TIEs on sensors. Tracking them now, but they aren’t in range to engage us.” She added. The TIEs’ likely lack of missiles meant that from this distance, they were not even remotely a threat. In contrast, the tandem X-Wing, with its long range torpedoes quite easily outranged the enemy craft and would be able to safely engage them from afar.

However, Aelara wasn't keen to use them, just yet.

[It’s an expression. 3 Flight. That rear Juggernaut? Let’s test out those ion cannons we were fit with on it. Those rear hovertanks? Blow’em away!]

“Spotted, flight lead.” Aelara acknowledged. “Supsiy, ion cannons are at your command. Projecting target data onto your HUD. Take them out.”

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: T-0001 Tandem X-Wing

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • ROF Rotary Cannon (2) - Nose
  • FGA-43 Quad Laser Turret - Nose
  • LLT-7 General Purpose Warhead Launcher (2) - Hull (Outside Intakes)
    
    • Morningstar Concussion Missile (6)
    • Morningstar Concussion Missile (6)
  • PLX-2M Missile Launcher (4) - Hull (Outside Intakes)
    
    • 3t3 Missile (6)
    • 3t3 Missile (6)
    • 3t3 Missile (6)
    • 3t3 Missile (6)
  • Mustafire Cluster Missile Launcher (2) - Hull (Outside Intakes)
    
    • Mustafire Cluster Missile (8)
    • Mustafire Cluster Missile (8)
  • Torpedo Launcher (2) - Hull (Between Intakes)
    
    • HIC “Feenix” Torpedo (4)
    • HIC “Feenix” Torpedo (4)
  • G-DAMM Guided Bomb Bay - Hull (Between Intakes)
    
    • G-DAMM Guided Bomb
  • Heavy Ion Cannon (4) - Wingtips
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • Atrisian Flight Suit
  • EP-7 Elemental Pistol
    
    • Ammunition
      
      • Combination Power Cell, CryoBan Cell, and Fuel Cell Pre-Charged Magazine (4)