Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 11, 2013 16:52:49 GMT -8
That they were, but only behind one of them...
As they flashed he flashed past the X-Wing Wurk grinned. He couldn't see the other pilot, the speed they were both traveling at being too great, but he fancied he could imagine the look of horror, fright, shock, trepidation the covered his opponents face as their craft zipped by so close he felt he could have reached out and slapped the astromech. Mace's fighter, ready to follow the break of the target X-wing cut her throttle to bank through a left-hand turn as quickly as she could, attempting to keep the opposing fighter in visual range.
=Mace=
Gar jekai!
Her voice thundered ever the comm, drawing a wry smile from him as he gunned his fighter sharply to increase distance, attempting to put himself on a course that the Jedi pilots would expect him to be on while Mace attempted to drop in behind them. He knew he'd likely draw fire, perhaps even be susceptible to a missile lock given the increased distance, but it should give his wingmate time to score a kill at least should she get in position.
Meanwhile Mace gunned her engines while halfway through her turn to swing around rapidly in an attempt to drop in behind at least one of her foe's.
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Jul 12, 2013 7:35:36 GMT -8
~ The X-Wings blazed forward, splitting the sky with the thunder of their engines and and daggers they called wings. The storm was gathering in intensity, flashes of lightning being seen in the far distance off to the left: it was difficult to gauge which way the winds would turn the gale. The danger was noted, recognized, and summarily ignored by the Yavinite pilots as they attempted to run down the Bessies and chase them away from this patrol, if not destroy them outright.
Captain Jaimse cursed the limited information coming back to his sensors, even his R9 Unit wailing at being so electronically blind. As the air pressure built around the nose of his fighter once more, Ehrik cursed just after the sonic boom when he glanced briefly at his HUD.
Only one red blip ahead of them. The other had effectively disappeared. Interference from the storm? Or were the Mandos equipping their fighters for stealth now?
No chances.
:: Toni, pull high. Five hundred meters. Climb, climb! ::
The fighter painted to resemble the fearsome and proud Krayt Dragon of Tatooine slid its snout upwards, understanding the need for the direction. If they couldn't see the other fighter, they couldn't risk the fact that it was waiting to pounce somewhere on the outside of their electronic view. Toni swore when she noted that their scanners were becoming practically useless beyond a few hundred meters: they'd get a reading, sure, but nothing pin-point accurate, and the information wasn't updating fast enough to maintain good situational awareness. The duo from the 11th Fighter Group were flying and fighting essentially blind.
Darklighter Leader soared her fighter above her wingmate and eased off her throttle, letting herself drop back a bit. To make matters easier, she inverted once she reached the proper height, easily achieved with the four, powerful, fusial thrust engines of the XJ7. At least this way her canopy faced below so she could keep a naked eye on Ehrik, in case her scopes decided to continue malfunctioning. She scanned the darkened skies and the faint color of the treetops below, knowing a threat was out there somewhere but having no clue where it could come from.
Antilles Lead trusted his partner and so continued pursuit, the crimson triangle on his radar showing him the path to follow. Could he overtake the Bes'uliik? Possibly. His deflector shields protected his fighter's frame at high speeds, meaning he could push it far harder than the Mandos probably could. Probably. Engaging full afterburner, Ehrik dumped fuel into his sleek strike craft, pushing it beyond the sound barrier and onto the Mandalorian dead-ahead, the Mandalorian flying in a straight line.
Did he get the drop on him? Was the pilot just as hampered as they were, and unable to pick up the X-Wing closing rapidly on his tail? Captain Jaimse didn't know, but he couldn't waste such an opportunity. He was still too far out of range for his guns, and didn't want to waste time recalibrating them if they wound up in a close-range furball, both pairs biting and clawing at one another at point-blank ranges. Instead, he took stock of the torpedo he had armed earlier and brought up his targeting computer.
Telemetry readouts began to feed in. Slowly. Velocity, acceleration, distance, angle, wind speed and its direction: the microprocessor churned and whirred internally, emitting frantic beeps and horns as it began to separate the Bes'kar-clad fighter from the air around it.
:: Just a few more seconds ... ::
Ehrik licked his lips to wet them, the G-Forces beginning to build and making his mouth go dry. Anticipation made his body taut in the cockpit: anticipation of the first kill of the day. Mandalorian Iron or not, it was hard to walk away unscathed from a fusion explosion up a tailpipe.
His targeting computer continued to tick the moments away from a firing solution. Above, Toni kept a vigilant eye on her friend and teammate.
The game continued. ~
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 12, 2013 14:43:17 GMT -8
The visible Bes'uliik continued on for a moment as the pursuing X-Win began its chase then began a slow bank to the right, turning onto a heading directly for the storm. Wurk grinned grimly as he glanced at his displays that were now pretty useless. The computer beeped then faded then tones again, struggling to indicate that his ship was being targeted. In this storm? He found that unlikely but, considering he knew very little about the capabilities of the Jedi craft, especially these new, more advanced X-Wings, it was possible. His banking maneuver could enable the X-Wing to close, his dart towards the storm likely to impair targeting and visual scanning, but actually had the hidden agenda of allowing the Bessie pursuing to also gain on its target. To maintain the target lock attempt the X-in would have to also slow to turn and therefore shed a little of that velocity.
He made s slight adjustment, putting the ship on its starboard wing as the turbulence buffeted it violently. Aerodynamically sound the ship cut through the air majestically, making the pilots job easier than one may thing. Still, the erratic shaking was severe and he struggled to keep it under control as lightning flashed ever closer ahead.
His jaw tightened as he muttered over their secure comm, willing Mace to get in position.
=Wurk=
Get bat ni...
{Almost on me...}
She streaked through a cloud and, just as Wurk muttered to her, she saw a flash of something ahead in the roiling air. Her scanners had been struggling to do anything useful as the storm intensified but now she saw a blip appear on her screens. Wait... Was that two blips? She blinked as the red dot seemed to merge into one blip again, her eyes narrowing as she wondered at the occurance. No time, she thought as she made adjustments to her vector. Her vision went red at the edges as she pushed the starfighter to its greatest speed, the g-forces in the turbulent air causing the blood vessels to be pushed to extremes and making her feel slightly sick. She shrugged it off however and aligned herself on the wavering red blip, looking forward to see a shape flitting in and out of the clouds ahead. Flicking to thermal imaging helped, though that too was struggling due to the static discharges from the storm.
=Mace=
Traycn'ise...
{Firing...}
She had her shot and took it. Depressing the trigger to send three bursts of dual fire towards the X-Wings stern. The twinned bolts of crimson energy lashed out, cannons spitting three times as she punched out a three-hit combo at the Jedi craft.
As the last bolt left her wingtips she would then stomp on the right rudder pedal and veered off to starboard, banking immediately back left to seek to approach from a slightly different angle. Her intent was to switch position and vector, keeping herself fluid so as to try and avoid a counter from the unseen X-Wing that she was sure was lurking nearby.
Likewise as soon as she announced that she was firing Wurk immediately dived and threw his fighter into a corkscrew in an attempt to break the target lock. It was likely that the Jedi pilot would have more pressing things on his mind than continuing to seek a lock but one never knew. He gritted his teeth as he flashed through the strenuous maneuver before hauling back on the stick to drive the Bessies through a loop, the end result hopefully putting him flying back towards the rough approximation of where the either X-Wing was...
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Post by Adria Doran on Jul 12, 2013 16:35:22 GMT -8
She could feel the battle taking place before her, could feel where all the players were, and she knew where she had to be. Her weapons were hot, her S-foils locked into attack position, and her shields were fully charged again after her speed-increasing maneuver, fully evened out. As much as she disliked it, a tickle in the back of her mind told her to switch her shields to double-front; she was never one to doubt her instincts. And the battle was in view (though visuals and electronic readings were abysmal, she could still see it in her mind): stormclouds on either side, one XJ7 high above, one around medium height, chasing a Bes'uliik fighter, and..
In an instant, she knew where she was needed. She knew where she needed to go, and she oriented her fighter towards the stormcloud on her left side, just as another Bes'uliik shot forward, whooshing out of that very same stormcloud. As the newly-emerged Bessie let loose with a triple burst of dual fire, Adria closed her eyes for a single moment, switching her laser cannons to quad fire.. and depressed her own firing stud, a quartet of crimson lances shooting out from her X-Wing's cannons. Her eyes opened again, and she knew a single moment of disappointment at seeing that her firing vector would cause her lasers to pass behind the Bessie, if the pilot were to keep going forward in a straight line...
Only to be replaced an instant later with joy and satisfaction as the Mandalorian pilot veered hard to starboard, directly towards the incoming crimson quartet.
Adria smiled.
Pew pew pew, you Mandalorian bastard.
She kept moving on her straightforward vector, practically inviting the Mandalorian to go into a head-to-head. She knew that there was no one else nearby to catch her unshielded stern, and she was ready to break at a moment's notice.
Adria knew that she had just gained the element of surprise..
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Jul 14, 2013 8:13:07 GMT -8
~ Bastard was turning. A simple maneuver, but coupled with wind resistance and the issue of losing speed, it was actually a strong defensive action, Ehrik mused: no frivolous, stressful dodging, just a man who knew his machine and how to take the quickest path to his end game. At another time, Captain Jaimse might have respected the Mando pilot. That the Mandalorian decelerated upon banking clued Ehrik in as well: Distance was still enough where he wouldn't overshoot, but the enemy definitely wanted the X-Wing to shed some engine power. He wanted him to go slower. Make for an easier target.
Blast it, Ehrik had the thought in his head that he was walking right into a trap. At least Toni was covering him, and would hopefully negate any assault on her friend. The Yavinite Pilot wouldn't give the Mando the satisfaction of making him slow down, though.
Ehrik initially followed his mark into the turn, making sure to not stay directly on his tail but to instead let his X-Wing drift on the outside of the bank. His attempt at a missile lock broke, and Ehrik switched back over to his guns: he'd be closing the distance soon anyway. Rather than follow the Bes'uliik completely, Captain Jaimse put his knowledge of combat maneuvers and what his craft was capable of to the test.
Slower fighters had the advantage in a turn: they could complete their full turn radius faster, thereby putting them on a quicker opponent's tail in a relatively short amount of time if the maneuver was maintained at a horizontal point. Ehrik would not allow his mind to think in two dimensions, however. He let his fighter slip back upright, leaving the turn momentarily. Almost imperceptibly briefly. His hand through the flight stick away from the turn instead, using his rudder on the opposite side of his roll. Straighten out again once he was slightly above Wurk, and then cut sharply back into the turn again, nosing his fighter with the rudder pedal to place it almost in front of Wurk's projected position, if only for a second. Then, the maneuver had to be repeated.
It was a process known as lagging, allowing a faster strike craft to maintain a turning pursuit on a slower opponent: closing the distance and lowering the angle of attack until a firing solution could be achieved. The only issue was the stress being placed on Ehrik's body: every time he pulled away, he felt the grey veil slip over his eyes, the blood rushing sharply away from his head. He needed to shoot, and he needed to shoot quickly.
Several things happened quickly in that next second.
The Mandalorian dove sharply, whipping his fighter into a cyclone-shaped descent as Toni was screaming over the commo in his ears.:: Break! Break! ::Ehrik listened to the warning and immediately took advantage of his positioning, now once again facing away from Wurk's fighter, to disengage rather than maintain pursuit. The result was still less than pretty: Toni had only seen the lasers as they were firing, and Ehrik's reflexes were not superhuman. The first shot and half of the second rocked his X-Wing harshly, the shields flaring until he could see their light-blue bloom over his canopy as they mitigated the damage to his fighter's structure. His astromech unhelpfully whistled that another blast or two like that, and his aft shields would be completely gone.
His hard turn managed to throw his fighter out of the way of the rest of the cannon fire, swearing internally as his flight suit stiffened and his inertial compensator was forced to be dialed up by R9-T9 to stop the blackout from happening. He lost Wurk in the dive, cursing even more as he wheeled back to his original angle to try and find the disappearing Mando.
Toni Raques, meanwhile, had been about to fall on Mace like an anvil of durasteel and plasma, when she noticed another XJ7 cutting through the clouds and bringing the thunder with it. Adria Doran had received their call for assistance and joined the fight, leaving Toni in a bit of an awkward position: help Ehrik find his initial target, or join Adria in hunting down the fighter that had transgressed against her friend? She assessed the situation quickly, noting that her and Ehrik now were both suffering shield damage, and that Adria was fresh to the fight, not to mention already on a good angle to strike back at the Bessie trying to slay Antilles Leader.
With that in mind, she remembered her partner's earlier words: stick together. Adria would be able to handle her own ... For now. If the two other pilots could slag one of the beskar-coated beasts, it'd greatly tip the odds in their favor. She noticed Ehrik already pitching his fighter down to try and pursue the corkscrewing Mando, but had a feeling that he wasn't quite in the right area: the ionic discharges from the closing storm were probably shorting out most, if not all, of his scanners: he'd be on his eyes and visual scopes only, scopes that were useless at these close ranges.
Using her best guess, Toni pulled back on her stick once she reached the right area ... Or what she thought was the right area, from the last time she saw the Mando before it slipped into the grey clouds, the grey clouds stampeding over their aerial battle ground. On a whim, she adjusted her guns to converge at 500 meters instead of 200, and keyed them to single fire. Perhaps she could draw some attention, she mused, as the firing stud was pressed in her dive.
Laser fire began raining down from her superior height, closing the distance rapidly as Toni took the straight descent instead of adding any sort of fancy turns to it. She doubted she was firing in any capacity to strike the Mando, but she hoped she might be able to flush the aggressor out, spook him and make him climb into the attack or change directions: anything to make it more apparent to blind Ehrik where his target was. ~
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Post by Chiala Yvarro on Jul 14, 2013 12:07:38 GMT -8
*For the distance they were forced to drop, and the grace that Saris was losing as a result of his injuries and the weight of an extra body that he was carrying, they landed onto the back of the shuttle seat with a shuddering impact, the supporting metal of the compromised hull and frame groaning dangerously loud in protest.
Chiala hissed sharply through her teeth, certain that the seat would not support them, and reflexively her arms and legs tightened around Saris as her eyes shut tight. After a couple of seconds had passed and there was no crashing plunge down the aisle to the door of the cockpit, the Balosar began to cautiously trust that the seat would support their weight. For the time being.*
*Flushing with embarrassment, Chiala did not simply release Saris from her grip, she practically pushed him away (or rather pushed herself away given that he didn't budge), and managed to keep herself from tumbling off of their precarious perch only thanks to her own nimble dexterity, slender limbs capturing the back of the seat and swinging herself back around to brace her feet against the seat cushion, her knees pressed into the backrest. Now clinging upside-down and staring up at Saris, her magenta eyes narrowed at him.*
"I need a coffeine with extra cream and triple sugar, but you don't hear me going on about it."
*And enough Neutron Pixie to take down a herd of bantha.*
"...But then I'd probably have to bring enough to share with the whole fekking class."
*The tone of her voice and twitching, unsmooth movement of her magenta eyes as she looked around clearly spoke of something more going on with her than the stress of the situation. Chiala tilted her head back to look towards the bottom, or rather the front of the shuttle, her pale dreads long enough to brush the headrest of the seat below her. There were moans and disoriented words drifting up back towards them, the scent of blood and shock and far too many bodies that had no sound coming from them whatsoever. She resisted the urge to retract her antennapalps in revulsion. She needed to be alert.
Inexplicably, none of the surviving passengers seemed to have noticed Chiala and Saris landing practically on top of their heads. Their state of shock must have been worse. Certainly it must have felt worse being trapped in this wreckage. Chiala had at least had the small mercy of awakening outside.*
"The medkit is in the cockpit. Someone is alive in there."
*Her antennapalps rotated.*
"Felia. And the pilot, I think."
*Too many sounds, difficult to pick them all out.*
"I will try to make my way down there, and check on the others, try to direct them to climb up to the back of the shuttle. That's going to be our only way out of here."
*Without hesitation, Chiala released her hold on the seat, falling down another row. The first pair of seats did not hold survivors. Her stomach churned as she looked upon familiar faces that did not move, no breath to hear forthcoming from their lips. She shuddered violently, then leapt across the aisle to grip the next set of occupied seats, like some kind of twisted obstacle course she had to pass.
Brakus.
She pressed her hand to his bloodied cheek and tried to rouse him, his eyes rollling and unfocused.*
"Come on now, Cherrytop, I know you're stronger than this. I'm going to release your harness, but I'm not big enough to catch you if you don't catch yourself."
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 14, 2013 12:35:16 GMT -8
The quartet of crimson bolts slammed in to the nose of her fighter, rocking the craft considerably and causing her switch back onto an attack vector to wobble uncontrollable for a second or two. The bolts had hit, two full on and two deflecting of the beskar hull, just below the seam of where the canopy joined the nose. Alarms blared in the cockpit as the transparisteel struggled to keep a seal against the super-heated armour, threatening to give out due to the high stresses of the extreme maneuvers she was employing. With a savage curse in Mando'a she dialed back the throttle and sent her craft into a dive, turning towards her antagonist. Dropping a few meters she immediately leveled out and sought to pass directly below the approaching attacker, seeking the only safe place she could from the aggressor. She left the throttle at about two-thirds power, giving the heated metal time to cool lest the stresses tear the canopy from the ship and expose her to the savage conditions of high-speed aerial combat. She tried to dart beneath the Jedi pilot then hauled back on her stick to attempt to loop around behind her opponent and either drop in for a quick shot on the X-Wings tail, or at least make it difficult for the other pilot to draw a bead on her.
=Mace=
Solus ori'shya sakagal...
{One more X-Wing....}
She called out over the comm as her craft whipped around in her loop, gravity squashing her in her chair and the alarms blaring at the difficulties the hull was experiencing wit the conditions. The storm was beginning to rage now and she wind was beginning to buffet her craft severely.
=Wurk=
Suvarire. Dar diryc...
{Understood. Going low...}
Wurk muttered back over their channel as he continued through his erratic corkscrew, shedding altitude and picking up speed as he twisted madly towards the green canopy below. The storm, as well as his frantic-seeming evasions, made targeting difficult, instruments struggling to update their systems. His own were pretty much useless and he ignored them, preferring to use the convenient beacon that his opponent had kindly thrown up for him. The distance from which Toni had fired, the intensity of the storm, and the evasive spiral of the Bes'uliik meant that he was in little danger of being hit by the volley of fire sent his way. A few crimson darts rained down around him, luck steering them close rather than any form of judgement, zinging past his viewport to sizzle off into the rain. The trajectory and angle of the shots enabled him to judge where the bolts were originating and he immediately altered course, getting his spiral under control and hauling his stick back and to the left. He was crushed into his seat, teeth clenched against the encroaching blackness that tried to engulf his vision, as his fighter whipped around and sought to follow the random red tracers back to their source. Gunning the throttle to maximum he blazed through his turn and settled his sights on where the bolts were appearing out of the grey nothingness of the storm and tightened his finger on his own trigger to send duel bolts back towards the source of the incoming. Leading his attacks slightly, using the time between each bolt appearing to judge roughly where the attacking X-Wing was, as well as the consistent path the bolts were taking, to judge his counter with as much accuracy as he could manage, he unleashed his return fire with all the fury of his people, as if Kad himself had blessed this attack.
He maintained his course, ignoring the bolts that were now drifting closer as he closed with the source, trusting in his craft to shield him while he attempted to burn the enemy fighter from the skies.
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Saris
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Post by Saris on Jul 14, 2013 12:50:40 GMT -8
He might have chuckled at her sarcasm if he'd been capable of it at the moment, but with all his emotions floating around the edge of his calm the humor never made it to his features. She sounds like me when father would say he needed help with the skinning. He understood it for what it was, a defense mechanism to divert the severity of the situation until realizing how bad things were wouldn't get you killed, but he still felt a pang of hurt at her callous treatment of his injuries. Another feeling that was distant and could not touch him in the calm, and one that was altogether unfamiliar to him. I've gone my whole life trying not to care about other people. Why should I hurt when they don't care about me? It was confusing to say the least, but the thought couldn't worry him now. Survival was more important.
Slowly, he began to increase his breathing and heart rate little by little until he felt new wetness begin to run down his arms and drip off his chest, the blood beginning to form small pools beneath him. He was still dangerously close to death, but it took less effort to maintain the calm now and he slowly sat back on his feet, then stood as his vision went dark for a moment before once again solidifying into the pale silver hues of heat and the oscillating red of emergency lighting. Good enough. She was right, there were others that needed help.
He followed her down toward the others, his pace even slower than it had been climbing down the rock face, and stopped on the back of Brakus' seat. He could smell the dead and dying bodies around them, he'd been able to since they'd reached the chasm, but he ignored it the same way he had on the night his family had died. He ignored the faces, too, though he didn't have the same connection with most of these people that they had with each other, and it was no doubt easier for him than it was for them. He was a recent transfer, the "new guy", and he hadn't made much of an effort to fit in. He doubted any of them would have missed him if he'd been one of the bodies in these seats.
These idle thoughts drifted through his mind as he reached around the chair and slid a hand between Brakus' chest and his restraints, wrapping the arm almost completely around him before tightening his grip.
"Release the straps, I'll pull him up."
He could hear the faint thudding of a heartbeat, and feel the rythmic pulse against his palm, but there was also the scent of human blood, far too strong and close to be coming from anyone else. He was injured, but there was no choice other than to move him. They had to get out of the shuttle before it decided to plunge deeper into the chasm.
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Duke Australis
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Post by Duke Australis on Jul 14, 2013 13:49:51 GMT -8
"The flyboys are at it."
Duke had not spoken for several hours, he surely slept. The night was long, the fifteen verde had befriended the pack, and chosen a hunting partner. That involved fighting, and besting the Howler. When that was done, and the blood painted mandalorians were all paired with a hunter, they went out on their first hunt. They had found two smaller howler packs in the jungle. Eliminating the Alpha male, a mandalorian fought their alpha female. When the alpha female broke under the chosen mandalorians strenght, the rest of the pack joined. They had by morning 32 howlers in the pack.
Seeing that all was done, duke sat himself at the root of a large tree, patted his howler and fell asleep.
It was these rude Vhett flyboys and their republic or jedi counterparts that messed with his beautysleep.
"Any word from camp?"
-Howler Squad Commando-
"Nah, too much interfearence. But we are trying. If they are attacking the temple, they would have to move through these woods, we can get them then."
"Good. Cook some water, I am making caff. Get the howlers ready, dont feed them, I dont want them lazy."
Duke finally got up, patted his howler, and tried to fruitlessly reach the Blueleef Temple.
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Brakus Sev
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Post by Brakus Sev on Jul 14, 2013 13:56:26 GMT -8
"Ch...Chiala?"
His voice came out in a hushed whisper as his head moved strangely from side to side, boneless and uncoordinated in its movements. His eyes were closed tight as the world around him seemed insistent on spinning and tilting madly in an effort to get him to throw up, the strange full feeling in his stomach threatening to overwhelm him at any moment. He felt more than heard another approach, eyes sliding open a fraction in an attempt to see what was going on around him. His teeth clenched as another wave of pain and nausea over took him, the horrible rust taste of blood surging up the back of his throat. He was loosing precious fluid somewhere, the bloated feeling in his belly possibly signifying an internal bleed. His ribs, injured when he was jammed hard against his restraints, had been further damaged when a piece of the shuttles hull had broke free and slammed into his, breaking several ribs along his right-hand side and knocking him unconscious when the tail-end of said debris had hit him above the right eyebrow. The blood from that wound had dried along the side of his face, making the right eye stick when he tried to open it.
With the broken ribs jabbing into his right lung te actions of Saris made white hot pain shoot around in his chest, as if someone were digging around in there with the tip of a lightsaber. He gasped and whimpered weakly at the agony then coughed, spewing forth a splattering of blood onto Saris' arm. His presence in the Force spiked in distress as he tried to crawl back into the seat to avoid the intensity of the pain.
"Aaagh... chacha... Stahp!"
His choked voice barely carried at all as his head swam, threatening to dump him back into unconsciousness or worse. If he could have gathered the Force he would surely have lashed out with it such was his desperation to escape the torment. His head banged back against the head rest as he twitched into a spasm, exacerbating his wound by the jarring of his body.
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Saris
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Post by Saris on Jul 14, 2013 14:16:55 GMT -8
Saris froze the instant he felt the chest begin to give way, then eased up on the pressure he was applying until the other student once again rested his weight on the straps. He came dangerously close to breaking his calm as anger and frustration surged around his void, barely managing to hold it back along with the curse that nearly sprang from his lips because of the pain his own haste had caused. Should have identified the wounds first. He needs a healer, not a hunter.
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Duke Australis
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Post by Duke Australis on Jul 15, 2013 15:29:03 GMT -8
Tra'Kad Valkyria speeded downwards, like a burning ball as it hit the moons protective shield, Athmosphere. When it pierced the ozone layer, it was simply just falling at high speed, its engines turned towards space.
Inside, work was hectic.
This was no simple Tra'kad. This was the cheapest of the cheapest, thrice discounted, with good loan privilidges, no down payment, have a gift card kind of Tra'kad. More importantly, it was a Steampunk one. Gears rolled all over, pipes ran through cealings and walls, green steam lit the inside as it passed through badly isolated thermometers. Gears, levers, ballistic and ordinance ammo crates filled its interrior. It theemed with life, as mandalorian commandoes ran amock, checking different lines and screaming orders. The thing shook, rattled, whistled and the mandalorians cheered at its brutality and the sheer experience of a planetfall executed in a clockmakers magic box.
A large one, strapped into the cockpit yelled a warning and then pulled one of the largest levers. Steam spewed from several pipes as thermometers whistled more warnings. Suddenly, a huge pendulum swung from one side of the near cubic warmachine to the other, sliding perfectly on its rails between workstations and strapped in passangers. Then it slid back just as fast, but only halfway. The pendulums momentum turned around the Tra'kad so the thrusters were turned downwards now.
An other yell from the cocpit sitting huge armoured female figure, a booming voice with just enough feminine wiles in it to be distincted from her more base vode.
The main engineer put several canisters into a spring, and then bashed a button. The canisters pumped their avesome SCI-FI version of coal into a large furnace, and the exess energy that happened upon the combustion of the compound was released, and the ship came to normal landing speed mid air, activeating its normal sublight drives.
That, or I could just have written that it breaks with its lame oldschool Star Warsy thrusters...
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Jul 25, 2013 11:22:29 GMT -8
"We need something to cut him free. He's strapped in and..."
Her mind blanched at the horrible position the man was in. The jagged metal shard driven through him, the blood...
Her voice dropped to a whisper, the meaning transmitted through the Force clearer than it could be heard by the ears.
Its bad...
While attempting to come up with a solution for the problem, her hand rested on the hilt of the lightsaber clipped to her belt and the solution became clear. Briefly she wondered if it was sense or the Force, that had prompted her to grab the saber from the ... body ... above."I have .... a lightsaber," she yelled back down at Felia, stumbling over mentioning the fallen Jedi's name. Best not think about that for now. "Do you want me to toss it down to you and find a way to help the two of you climb back up from up here, or do you need another hand down there? " She wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea of climbing down into the pit that had been the front of the ship. Or rather, she didn't like the idea that she might have to climb back up again. Physical fitness had never particularly been a strong point.
A thought came to her."Does the pilot know where the emergency kit is located? Is it down there with you? It should have bandages for the wounded in there, and some bacta patches!" |
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Felia Reksira
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Affiliation: Felucia Jedi Base
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Post by Felia Reksira on Jul 25, 2013 12:16:21 GMT -8
She peered up at the vague outline of Anita that could barely been seen, a darker shadow against the black rectangle of the hatchway above. Her forehead twisted into a frown as she looked around in the dim light, trying to judge whether any such feats of dexterity would be wise in such abysmal conditions. Her hands were clammy and wet from the constant deluge finding its way through the wreckage, and were trembling with the excitement and exertions of the situation. Her clothes were disheveled and unkempt, clinging to her uncomfortably, and her eyes darted furtively around the nightmarish scene.
"I think it would be better if you came to me."
She glanced down at the back of the soldiers chair, noting the likely difficulties that would present themselves once he'd been cut free. He was too heavy for her to lift and getting him up through the hatch would be a mission unto itself.
"I don't think I could move him on my own."
She reached out, carefully maintaining her balance, and gripped hold of the cable that hung down from the shadows above.
"You can climb down this."
Her voice was lightly amused as she recalled Anita's dislike of all things physical, finding a small amount of levity in the abysmal situation. She dropped back down onto her knees as she pondered the question of the medkit. His condition was pretty bad and they'd probably need to stop some pretty serious bleeding once he was free of the debris. Her face blanched at the thought as she crawled around so she could lean over the edge and speak to him.
"Is there a medkit nearby?"
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Ander Tagira
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Well, I'll be...
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Affiliation: GALSAF, Mandalore, Yavin 4 Jedi Praxeum
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Post by Ander Tagira on Jul 26, 2013 12:14:51 GMT -8
LA-AT/i outfit "Able 3-1"
Approximately 100 Kilometers North-West of Mandalorian Temple Camp
Yunteh Mountains, Yavin 4 The forest was crowded with vegetation and wet with showers that had graced the squad the entire night before. The landscape was covered in an oppressive fog, filling valleys and crowning hilltops. They stuck to the low lands as best they could, utilizing their helmet's various light filters to guide them through the dense fog. The suspected crash site was still nearly twelve kilometers away, a long march through enemy territory that was taking longer than it should have.
Enemy territory. That was a phrase Sergent Decklan would have applied easily to any other situation, but traversing through Yavin 4's tropical landscape felt like little more than a training exercise, one the squad would have performed frequently when they were all still soldiers of the Yavin 4 Defense Force. When Decklan had jumped ship with the rest of their unit after Tagira left the Academy, he hadn't thought twice about the situation. Then again, he hadn't expected to be engaging with Jedi forces he'd once served happily with.
Decklan stepped over a curved root that broke the earth beneath him, then sidestepped a thick tree and turned around to check the formation's rear end. Nothing. He faced forward again and continued onward.
Before the battle that had raged fiercely in the space around Yavin 4, Tagira had given 1st Battalion a rallying speech about their purpose fighting on the side of the Mandalorian clans. He'd gone on for ages about the rights of the ordinary people of the galaxy, caught between warring Force Using factions throughout history. He'd talked about the Clans, and the holy war they were waging on the Jedi and the Sith, sick and tired of serving as little more than pawns for the atrocities committed by both sides over hundreds and thousands of years. Tagira had touched briefly on the last fifty or so years of conflict, from the Jedi Purge to the Rebellion against the Empire, to the Yuuzhan Vong War and the Civil Wars that followed.
In every instance, according to Tagira, Force Users were the perpetrators. And in every instance, he was right. Jason Solo, Emperor Palpatine and his rabid dog of an apprentice, Vader, even the Yuuzhan Vong had fought for spiritual and ideological reasons.
But even so, Decklan couldn't shake the same thought throughout Tagira's speech: "Sir, aren't you a Force User? Don't we have Force Users serving with GALSAF?"Without having to ask the question, Tagira had answered it, as if he had heard Decklan's thoughts sounding off like a loudspeaker."I myself once belonged to the Jedi Order, as most of you know. But my connection with the Force has died, and my faith in their ideology died with it."Sergent Decklan had felt as if that statement had settled the matter, but he couldn't shrug the feeling that labeling Yavin 4 as "enemy territory" was just…wrong. Not wrong in an ideological sense, nor in an ethical sense. It just...wasn't enemy territory, and no matter how many times he called it that, Decklan couldn't wrap his head around the concept.Decklan, you alright back there? A voice rang in his ear. It was Camden.Ya, what's on? He replied.Nothing, I just don't have eyes on you anymore. Where are you?Decklan looked around the dense forest that surrounded him. He couldn't see anyone, though their icons still registered on his HUD. It took Decklan a moment to realize he'd stopped moving forward. Got caught up in a thick patch, no worries. I have you on my HUD, relax. He recovered quickly.
Camden was silent for a moment, then asked. You alright? The question came through on private comms. Camden knew something was running through Decklan's head. Just a kriffed up situation is all.Tell me about it. Camden replied. Decklan didn't respond, merely continued forward through the brush ahead. After a brief moment of silence, Camden spoke up again.Seriously. Tell me about it.Decklan's mind skipped a beat as he understand Camden's statement. You were with us here, before. You know what I'm talking about.You're talking about having reservations about being here, because we used to serve with these guys. So no, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any reservations.So that's how it is, huh? Decklan thought to himself.Why wouldn't you have reservations about killing people you once worked with? He asked. He heard Camden's breath over the commlink.Because they're not GALSAF. And because a lot of the things Tagira said on the Basterd's Hand make sense. It's not like I'm going to enjoy shooting former comrades, but they chose to stay and serve Jedi. It's the Jedi we're here for. If they want to keep on regular soldiers to act as shields for their Order, then it's our job to shoot their shields to splinters.Decklan shook his head, brushing the thick stalk of a branch out of his way. Nothing's that black and white.Somethings are. Do I have to worry about you freezing on us?Decklan ground his teeth. Shut up, Corporal.It's a legitimate question, Sergent. If I have to put a round in you to get the job done, don't think I'll hesitate to do it.Decklan grew furious and felt his cheeks flush. Camden was a good commando, sure enough, but their job was to stick to the mission, not go careening off the objective. Decklan had no intention of turning his back on the rest of the squad, company, or the force. While Tagira had stressed in their training the importance of rank for the sake of enforcing orders, Decklan had always thought he'd been wrong about staying so relaxed about the system as a whole. Camden had no right…or did he?
Decklan was adamant about sticking to the book, and Camden was simply doing the same, from his own perspective. The man had their mission in mind, not his personal feelings towards Decklan's uncertainty.Good on you, Corporal. Was all he could stomach to say.That's good to hear, Sergent. I'm not being-I know. Decklan interrupted. Just drop it. I'm solid.Roger. Decklan watched as the private link was dropped.
Keeping his eyes forward, Decklan continued onward, catching up to the rest of the squad in a few short moments. He could barely spot the back of Camden's armored helmet no more than thirty meters ahead. The camouflage patterns GALSAF employed worked like a dream, though stealth systems would have been nice. Tagira had always stressed that stealth was a mentality more than it was a piece of gear, but Decklan would have felt more comfortable at times knowing he had a stealth set to rely on. Better to have and not need than need and not have, after all.
The squad pressed on, through one valley after another, stopping at times to check on the injured pilot, Gunnery Sergent Jaxon Hayes and to grab quick bites of nutrient packs here and there. The going was slow mostly due to the lapsing night coverage. Dawn was on its way and their travel speed would slow even further in the light of day. Decklan wondered frequently what or who they would find at the crash site, and how they would deal with it. If there were Force Users there, they were mandated to take them into custody and contact GALCOM for pick up. The two problems with that mandate was that Jedi Knights or Masters were unlikely to simply surrender to soldiers fighting on the side of the Mandalorian Clans. Decklan doubted many of the Jedi even knew who GALSAF was, or who they were run by. Knights and Masters would fight, and they would fight hard. Decklan has seen what Jedi were capable of when wielding the Force. He'd seen them split boulders, lift starships, and absorb blaster bolts with their hands.
He knew enough about the energy fields of the Force to know it could be used to bend and transfer energy, heighten the senses and reflexes and telekinetically move objects and people. Tagira had stressed training against Force Using capabilities even back in the Y4DF days, but fighting Jedi wasn't like fighting Sith. The two groups employed entirely different tactics and skills for the most part, and Decklan wasn't sure even an entire squad of GALSAF commandos could readily handle more than a pair of Knights at a time.
On impulse, he opened a private channel with the squad's Gunny. Garlan, it's Decklan.Go ahead, Sergent.We don't have any stun weapons with us. What happens when we run into Knights that aren't willing to go belly-up for us?Decklan waited for a response. Garlan didn't speak for a moment.Shoot out their knee caps. He replied suddenly.Roger.Decklan refrained from speaking to anyone for the next several hours, offering only his own reports and confirmations when spoken to. For the rest of the waning night he contemplated a thousand different scenarios, and in many of them, both himself and the rest of the squad ended up dead. |
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Dav Man'Sell
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Affiliation: The Jedi Order - Jedi High Council/Jedi Praxeum of Yavin IV
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jul 30, 2013 15:27:04 GMT -8
Telen couldn't help but feel a little impressed with Felia. He had felt a rush of panic when she had said the cutting equipment was damaged, a desperate fear that he was done for, that death was upon him with no escape, but before he'd even got as far as figuring out how to respond to that feeling, little Felia had come up with a solution - the Jedi's Lightsaber. If a Jedi Lightsaber couldn't cut something, then that something was not to be cut. Hope replaced the panic, and Telen had offered a small sigh to himself at the relief.
=Captain Telen Zax=
"Lightsaber might work..."
It had been barely even muttered, and the young Jedi trainee had already turned her attentions upwards, into the shuttle's cabin, seeking help, so the Omwati focused instead on calming his breathing a little, on simply staying conscious, on not expending too much energy. He brought his left hand to his gut, gritting his teeth and pressing against the wound, grunting quietly though the pain in an effort to put pressure on the hole in his flesh and prevent his vital life fluids flowing away. He concentrated on staying alive, whilst the young girl worked to get him help.
Suddenly, she was in his ear again. He wasn't sure how long had passed, and was vaguely aware that despite his efforts, the grogginess was beginning to set in. He needed something to keep him going. A stimulant of some kind.
What had she asked. He frowned, for just a moment, raking back into the very very recent memory, picking out the words she had just directed at him.
"Is there a medkit nearby?"
That was it. He blinked - once, twice, three times, before nodding. Yes. There was.
=Captain Telen Zax=
"Other side of the cabin... same place behind the pilot's seat as the engineer's kit was behind mine." He turned his head, gently, to glance towards that wall. The damage was less extensive there. The medkit was probably intact. "Before you send it up into the hold, I need you to get some bits out of it for me. I'll need... a Bacta Patch, large one... and a stimulant. Cordrazine... there should be some... cordrazine in there."
He took a deep breath in, wincing as he exhaled again, finding his focus, which, along with his consciousness, felt as though it was racing away at point five past lightspeed.
=Captain Telen Zax=
"The cordrazine first..."
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Felia Reksira
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Affiliation: Felucia Jedi Base
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Post by Felia Reksira on Aug 3, 2013 1:55:33 GMT -8
She winced in tandem with him as she felt his pain spike through the Force. With a concerned look she let her eyes linger on the wounded man for a moment before following his look to where the medkit was located. Checking above to make sure that Anita hadn't began her own descent the small girl perched on the edge of the soldiers chair then leaped across, using the cable as a rope-swing to traverse the gap that had once been the isle between the chairs. Releasing the cable and landing deftly on the back of the adjacent chair she paused for a moment, a warm flood of pride washing over her at the deft precision of her move.
"Vanity..."
Her whispered word was followed by a rueful shake of her head the voices of the masters ringer in her head about the dangers of excessive pride. She resisted the urge to look to see if either Anita or Captain Zax had seen her agility, such self-seeking notions a detriment to her humility. She was not Lilia after all...
Dropping down onto her belly she repeated the maneuver she had performed above in the passenger cabin, dropping down to hang off the chair, toes searching for purchase on the chair below. She had a moment of panic as her toes sought desperately for something solid, the muscles in her arms beginning to burn with fatigue, before she finally got them situated on the chair, releasing to wobble precariously for a moment before dropping into a crouch on her target. It didn't take her long to secure the medkit, dipping her head through the carry-strap and turning to assess her options for returning to the wounded mans side....
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Aug 7, 2013 16:15:08 GMT -8
====== Anita ========
"Right, Anita, just do this slowly and you'll be fine," Anita muttered to herself, looking towards the front of the ship, attempting to calculate the best way to the cockpit. Carefully she ran her hand over the lightsaber to make sure that it was secure. It would be bad if she lost it before it could be useful.
Reaching out, she grabbed the cable that Felia had indicated to. She tugged on it several times, putting more of her body weight on it each time, testing to make sure that could hold her weight. Satisfied, her mind going back to the physical activities class that had covered repelling with rope without any gear, she carefully wrapped the rope around her torso and left leg to try and control her descent. Slowly, she started to lower herself toward the cockpit, wincing as the tightness of the rope around her leg, wishing that she had a harness on her.
"I swear, if I get out of this alive - I am getting myself a full emergency utility belt," she told herself, as the light of the cockpit got closer and closer. Her hands burned from gripping onto the cable, and she made sure to add 'gloves' to the list of things to buy after she survived.
Finally, after had what seemed like forever, she dropped down to where she had seen Felia.
"I've got it," she said, holding up the lightsaber, looking around for the other girl. "What can I do to help?
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Post by Adria Doran on Aug 8, 2013 0:33:15 GMT -8
She smiled as the Mandalorian pilot dove, reaching forward with her right hand to even her shields out; the head-to-head was over as soon as it had begun, and Adria had scored the first blow. Her element of surprise was gone now, of course, but it had been well worth it. Now then, what to do about the doubtlessly enraged pilot..
The other two pilots were occupying the other Bes'uliik, so Adria was comfortable focusing on just this one. Of course, there was nothing stopping the other Mandalorian from taking a potshot at her, but with two X-Wings on his tail, that would have been a bad idea. Her opponent was looking to fly underneath her, allowing for a possible loop-around behind her. Well, that just wouldn't do. An instant before her opponent passed underneath her, she stomped down on the left rudder and twisted her flight stick to the left, sending her X-Wing into a hard portside turn before leveling out momentarily. She closed her eyes again, briefly, stretching out and getting a mental lock on her enemy, tracking Mace through the Force. While she did so, she set her cannons to dual fire again; without the element of surprise, she couldn't afford to wait for her lasers to cycle through quad fire in this dogfight.
Her eyes opened again, and she smiled as she pushed her flight stick forward slightly, dipping towards the canopy of trees below while simultaneously flying straight towards the stormcloud her opponent had exited just seconds before. She set her systems to strengthen the rear shields, not quite double-rear, just in case the Mandalorian managed to get a bead on her.
Follow me.
The thought was more than just a thought; it was a subtle suggestion through the Force to the enemy pilot, to try and keep her focused on Adria instead of helping her comrade. If it didn't work, it was a simple enough maneuver to jump back into the fray, but Adria was also counting on the fact that a Mandalorian would not like the prospect of taking a blast to the face and then letting the offender jaunt off into the nearest stormcloud without some form of retribution..
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Aug 9, 2013 11:10:28 GMT -8
~ " Kriff--!!!"
Toni's dark eyes widened as the laser fire came at her, unexpected and powerful in its destructive purpose. She tried to break off her dive, the X-Wing taking longer to escape the downward pull of gravity as her foot slammed her rudder pedal, her hands jerked her throttle back, engaged air brakes, tried to pitch and roll away, but to no avail. The Mandalorian pilot's counter attack blew her shields away in a mere second, Darklighter Leader being jostled inside the cockpit of her XJ7. Her helmet cracked against the canopy with a deafening explosion of noise inside the cramped space, the injured fighter finally pulling away to its left after being set upon by the iron-clad fighter from MandalMotors.
Her droid companion was calm and collected as it fed Toni Raques the data she needed, the pilot trying to blink and clear her vision from the concussive force with which her head had been thrown into the plexiglass, as well as the ear-popping shrill of warning sirens and flashing lights. Her shields were gone, completely gone, and i didn't look like they'd be recharging anytime soon. To make matters worse, the veteran ace saw an overlay of red on the HUD image of her strike craft, right over her starboard engine. A fire had broken out where a bolt had burned away the relatively light armor of the X-Wing (compared to the Bes'uliik), sending the Yavinite craft into a bad list to its right side. A few blown stabilizers, a problem compounded by damage to her engine itself. Toni's mind immediately set to working out the issues this held: less thrust, poor turning speed, the inability to fly in a damn straight line.
R5-U3 began the work necessary to lock down the damage, using a coolant spray to suppress the fire and then a wide array of tools to repair the burned circuitry and armor. Even the astromech realized that with only 75% thrust, they were as good as dead in the air. Captain Raques let her mechanical friend handle keeping them flying while she moved to get them out of harm's way. Pitching hard to the left, she attempted to nose back into her dive and blitz past the Mando fighter, overshooting and giving her precious few seconds to get her ship in working order again.
:: Crate's been pranged. Starboard thruster and stabilizer damaged. Still flying. ::
The brief relay was all the information Ehrik got, the firing path of both the Yavinite and the Mandalorian spied by him through the blackened clouds long before. It allowed him to make a course correction, bringing his nose back up to ascend and find the aggressor. His firing had given him away, much like Toni's own attempt to flush out an opponent did. Keying his guns to converge at 600 meters, R9-T9 suggested to drain his shields to attempt to disable the Mando in one power shot.
It was a risky decision: Lieutenant Doran was still toying with the other enemy pilot ... As far as Ehrik knew. And in this poor visibility, it would be hard to say whether or not the Mandalorians had called in reinforcements. The members of the JPT had no such saving grace to fall back on, so the idea of ending this engagement as soon as possible appealed to Captain Jaimse immensely.
He gave his droid the go-ahead, pulling the reactor power out of his already-damaged deflector screen and pumping it into the laser cannons at his wingtips. He needed a shot, a good shot for it to count, and so held his finger on the trigger. Held as Toni was battered to a flying wreckage, held as she bolted out of the way, held while closing the distance rapidly. Ehrik's eyes took in the most likely position of the Mandalorian ace, his lips whispered a silent curse, and the guns of the XJ7 unleashed a quartet of catastrophe at where Antilles Leader could best gauge his quarry would be. The Yavin Ace pursued his own gunfire in an attempt to get a better sighting for a follow-up strike if this did not go his way. ~
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
