Log:Black Squadron: Brighter Together

The New Republic Fleet engages a pirate force.

OOC Date: November 3, 2021
Location: Chommell Sector
Participants: Black Squadron, Jessika Pava, Rune, Ulani Kalgaav, Bors Thul, Shemar, Ektor, Poe Dameron

The New Republic has finally involved itself by not only entering Naboo's atmosphere with a cruiser, but also by collecting the last remnants of the acolyte cannon from the surface to escort it off world and away from the planet. Finally, after more than a year of hurting from the environmental effects from the cannon and suffering the presence of pirates, the Naboo can begin to heal.

The Pantheon is dragging the ruins of the cannon using a tractor beam, dedicating its power to pulling and maintaining the debris so it can be taken to the systems star to be obliterated by the celestial object's massive power. However, other forces move against the Republic fleet, obstructing the path with a fleet of their own! A cruiser and two escort ships take battle formations, releasing a tide of mixed fighters for the New Republic forces to contend. General alerts sound throughout the Pantheon, and Poe Dameron is seen sprinting down the corridor for the Aft One hangar to prep his ship and get outside. Blue squadron has already deployed, interceptors intended to hold the tide whilst the bulk of the SFC is launched. Black Squadron is given priority.

Poe climbs the ladder to his fighter and plops down in the seat. Behind him, BB-8 is drawn into the droid socket and the canopy begins to lower down whilst flight crews pull the ladder away. Technicians with light torches begin to guide the squadron to taxi them out in the most efficient manner possible.

"CLEAR THE DECK," Jessika yells, halfway hauled up the squat yellow ladder within minutes of the general alert going out. "Shoulda been out there already." Her helmet is already on the console where the canopy seals down onto the snubfighter's frame. "Board up!" The response is to a warbling droid who doesn't need to be positioned by al ife and set into the craft. Ailee's cables deploy against the sides of the snubfighter and the spherical astromech hauls herself up and into place. Dropping into her seat after grabbing her helmet and the ladder is cleared away by deck crew, Jessika more smacks the thing on with her hand than pulls it on with both. Her leather gloved right hand is busy racing to the Engine Master switches and slapping them into the on position.

The X-Wing's fuel pumps and fuel starter get going while the repulsorlifts prime. By the time she has the connection points of her crash harness fastened, she pushes the throttle to idle because the engine has reached its sequence complete range. It begins to float up and off its landing gears, which she retracts. She's second on the deck following the launch of Black Leader, canopy lowered and sealed and Jessika guiding the fighter on its repulsorlifts to the launch lane. She feeds the craft more power, and as it glides out into the black, she disables the repulsorlifts entirely in favor of using its fusial engines for thrust. <"Blue Leader, Black Two. Status on intercept?">

This is something new, finding oneself trying to relax after a rough couple of days only to be startled into action by the blaring of klaxons and the barking of commands over a loudspeaker. His heart leaps into his chest just as he springs from the chair he had been reclining in, the young Jedi rushing out of his room to bump into a few people on his way toward the hangar.

BB-XD was on his heels, rolling along and dodging the rush of people as they stream from out of doors to head down corridors to their posts. A minute or so later, Rune comes sprinting from the hallway toward his X-Wing, jumping to the ladder while Ecksdee whirls around to be plucked up and inserted into his home in the craft. The flight crew swings by to snatch the ladder from the side of the fighter and the canopy slowly closes while he flips switches and presses buttons to prepare the ship. "All settled back there, Ecksdee?" the Ysannan asks, a quick glance to the domed head that sprouts from behind him on the craft's fuselage.

Their job seemed to be done and Ulani is in her bunk reading the lastest publication of a mystery series she's been following. With all the missions and patrols, there hasn't been much time for it but now she's halfway in and starting to feel herself getting a little dozey. Soon, she thinks, they'll be heading back to Chandrila for a little respite. Maybe? She doesn't know that for sure, of course, but a girl can hope.

A few minutes later, the alarms begin to wail throughout the Pantheon and Ulani snaps awake and sits up; the datapad that had been resting on her chest when she fell asleep now clattering to the floor. Adrenaline starts pumping doubletime. She doesn't even remember putting on her flightsuit or running through the cooridors along with several others.

It's in the hangar, as she is climbing up the ladder to Black 08 an her still-nameless R2 unit is being lowered in its slot does she drop out of automatic and become conscious of her actions. "You ready?" The droid behind her beep-boops arrogantly followed by a upwards whistle.

Ulani sputters a little as she puts on her helmet and the cockpit dome begins to close. "Of... course I am. Don't be silly." When it's her go, Black 08 taxis forwar into the lineup and takes off into space with her squad.

Skidding down the corridor from a sharp corner turn, boots squealing and leaving behind a track that MSE droids shall rue, and wish much rueing unto him for eons to come. A stuttering 'ip-ee-e-e-e-e-eeeeeeeeee' matching to his movement before Bors is running again at full tilt, helmet rammed down onto his head and looking momentarily over his shoulder for,

OH! That's right!

"All alone with ourselves and space..." huffed out while his leaping steps carry him to the wedge shape of the RZA-2, headed right for the prow where he leaps and turns sideways to land in a roll, come up and continue his dash until he can jump next to the seat and within, throwing a thumbs up at deck crew shortly before the canopy begins to slide into place.

<<"Black Seven, powering and prepping for launch.">>

It happens fast. The alerts go out over the Pantheon and the pilots scramble. Shemar is among them, down the lift and out onto the flight deck. His boots carry him at a run to his X-wing even as he's sealing up his flight suit, helmet still clipped to his utility belt. The Lieutenant goes up the ladder and leaps into his fighter's cockpit before pausing to secure his helmet and strap in.

An R3 beeps and whistles as it is lowered into the droid socket behind the pilot's position. Shemar grins, "Don't worry, they said they fixed it. Super quick flight check and you'll see." He hopes.

The canopy lowers and his gloves are already flipping switches, spooling up the engines, bringing the repulsors online and going rapidly through his flight and coms checks. In moments he asks for and gets clearance to start taxing for launch position, following the cues of the flight deck personnel. Soon as he's green to go, Shemar throttles up hard and the ship's lauch tube ejects his craft to fall into their flight formation.

Black Squadron is passed from deck technician to technician until they've made it to the launch bay. Each fighter is given a command to spur up impulse engines, then given the 'GO' motion with the torch oriented toward the mag seal. Black Leader hits high speed going out, followed by the rest of the squadron. When they leave the confines of the hangar, their canopies frost, briefly, before the robotic sounding voice of Poe Dameron cuts across the encrypted net.

<<"This is Black Leader.. follow me in.. we have to keep their fighters away from the cruiser and its mission.">>

Over the open net, Blue Leader responds sharply after Black Two's prompt, <<"We're getting it pushed in out here.. a lot... A LOT of fighters, Black Two. One squadron has already moved past us.. We've marked them on the war-net.">>

Black Leader, the T-85 X-Wing, awaits Black Squadron's launch before orienting them toward the 'squadron' Blue Leader had indicated. A group of twelve Cutlass-10 Starfighters (an upgraded model with stalwart shields). Poe doesn't call the general 'S-foils to attack position', he just locks them in place and engages his afterburners to fly along the belly of the Pantheon on an intercept course for the squadron marked by Blue Leader.

Poe's voice is over the comms again, <<"Be advised.. sensors are picking up twelve fighters closing quick. WIPE OUT as /many/ as you can, we have to pave the way for the other squadrons to enter the fray!">>

As Ektor often references: The initial joust begins. "HERE WE GO, BUDDY!" Poe calls back to BB-8!

<"Blue Leader, Black Two. Retreat back. Join the fighter screen. We're en route now."> Calm. Quick. Orienting on Black Leader's starboard, Black Two's fusial engines flare bright, but not as bright as they could, because Jessika adjusts the snubfighter's s-foils into attack position in preparation of blocking the incoming enemy squadron with their own intercept vector. <"Black Two copies."> The quick affirmative over the net is in direct response to Poe's command that they wipe out as many as they can to pave the way for the craft heading towards the system star to dispose of the Acolyte Cannons remains. "Let's go then, you rekking slug suckers." The distance rapidly closes. Then laser cannons light the space between them up and Jessika watches a pair of her quad salvo smack and force a ripple in her target's shields.

After rising from the hangar bay floor, Rune maneuvers into position and follows the rest of Black Squad from the launch bay. He is shoved back in the seat after launching the X-Wing to a higher speed, the ship zipping from the Pantheon to join his crew in space. The Jedi adjusts to come in on Poe's port side, matching speed as they throttle toward combat.

<"Black Five, understood. Let us send them packing."> He replies on the comms as he adjusts his S-foils and follows Black Two in her engagement. He's not quite as successful in his attack, the quad cannons lighting up her target only in show and not in damage. The Cutlass's shield flare brightly but hold just as strong as they were before his attack.

Ulani holds her breath as Black 08 croses the forcefield threshold and dips into space. Then she lets it out. A weird habit but one she is quickly developing. 'Adrift' in space is not an apt term. Not at all. Thrusters engage and Black 08 screams -- in space, yes -- forward to follow Black Leader. <<"Copy that, Pretty Boy. Intercepting.">>

The Cutlass swarm certainly looks formidable and proves to be such, taking the first volley of shots from Ulani's X-wing. The shields of her target shimmer against the black void of space and taunt her. "Crud." She says to herself and is already banking to swing around for another pass.

Repulsors and steering thrusters kicking Black Seven up on its axis and towards the launch doors, the engines begin to blaze. Bors's fingers twirl about the controls, adjusting his inertial compensators down -just- hair before one comes to rest on the throttle and the other on the flight stick,

<<"Copy, Black Leader, on your six">> the hand on the bar shoved forward to send the scout fighter shrieking into vacuum with a whoop barely contained from the others by way of a quick flick of a thumb to kill his mic. Hurtling like some great arrowhead with only the ionized wash of his thrusters for shaft and fletching.

"We are outward bound for Coronet Town, with a heave oh haul! And we'll heave the old wheel round and round! Good mornin' ladies all!" laughing as he appears on Ulani's wing, long enough to waggle his fuselage and then follow suit on her target, hammering the shields with a series of cannon blasts that seem to focus on a spot barely a meter in diameter before they go through and the A-Wing is raised to shoot past, hewing armor plates and narrowly missing wrecking anything vital before the cutlass is forced to begin their retreat.

As their squadron forms up, Shemar forms up off of Ektor's portside wing. He takes his cues from Poe's activation of his attack foils and does last minute checks that all systems are looking good. <<"Black Six copies, over.">> They speed into the black to meet the on coming fighters, enemy contacts lighting up his HUD.

It doesn't take long to cross the distance and close. Shemar races into the fray and veers slightly to port to intercept. Quickly bolts streak out across the black to strike one of the Cutlass fighter's he's targeted. His shots hit true, flaring the other fighter's shields as they rush to engage one another.

Ektor is last in line to join the fight, but looks to make up for his bomber's slower engines and lesser laser Loudoun with excessive exhuberance, even in robotically scrambled monotone. <<Black Three, ready to rekkkk some Hutt-suckers upppp, yeah.">> There is so much inflection being covered up by that scrambler. The Y-wing tails Shemar in the opening joust, adding a pair of blasts from his nose cannons that hammer through the shields, raising a spray of sparks and hull plating from the heavily damaged Cutlass.

<<"Roger, Black Two, we're falling back for the cavalry; be advised.. you have more coming your way!">> Blue Leader and Blue Squadron continue to slug it out with the additional squad of bad guys working their way toward black. It's not as easy as a cut and run situation, and Blue is taking a beating.

Poe engages with C-12, tagging them with two cannon hits before losing them in the chaos of fighters dancing. He banks, flying wide to get a look of the 'field' to see what's going on overall and to gauge whether the Green, Red, and Yellow squadrons were joining. It looked like they were, and thankfully, they were going straight for Blue. Poe breathes easy, but is interrupted from this moment of relief by a pair of fighters training his stern. He takes a hit, screaming at BB-8, "NOW YOU TELL ME!" Black Leader spins in one direction, leveling out before Poe slams the throttle forward and sends them right back in the chaos. <<"Black Leader here, I have two on me,">> more informative than requesting help.

Red Squadron is already experiencing the loss of their XO, the Lieutenant got caught between three fights and blasted to bits. Blue Squadron loses Blue Three who explodes near Ulani and Bors in a bright flash.

<<"We're taking a hell of a beating, Black Leader!">> Calls Red Leader, some how expecting Poe to have some answer to all the heat, but Poe responds, <<"Yeah? Join the club, pal.">> Back on the bridge, someone is rubbing their forehead with their palm.

<"Blue Leader, Black Two, solid read. We'll handle it."> Having tagged one of the enemy fighters, Jessika doesn't wait to see if she can get another window of opportunity. She's already banking, juking planes and switching her craft's axis to turn in and then over so that there's nothing static about her evasive pattern. "Keep track of that craft!" Ailee keeps it painted on her sensors, so that when she comes back around she can see it specifically on her helmet mounted cueing system. The lead is already at work, painted on her heads up display to trail the Cutlass-10 she's speeding after and working through a series of throttle adjustments, flight stick tweaks, and rudder taps. Black Two cuts through most of the battle, weaving around her squadron mates.

And those trying to fire at her. One string of salvo misses her outright, while another hits the space she was just moments before. It's not enough to shake her off of the trail of the squadron's second. "Mess up, mess up," Jessika chants under her breath, body shifting in the pilot's seat and hitting against the straps of her crash harness. She gets the opportunity she's looking for when the Cutlass tries to dart across a new path. Jessika doesn't overestimate and lines up her targeting reticle witht he lead. A squeeze of her finger against the underside trigger of the flight stick sends another quad salvo of laser cannon fire stitching across the enemy craft. The first punches through the bubble and the two that make it through after pierce straight through its fuselage, triggering a violent internal explosion.

<"Black Two, splash one!">

That's a lot of fighters, one of which breaks off from the flock and finds its way onto Rune's tail. A couple of blasts later and his shields sparkle brightly with the hit. "Hang on! We are going to try to lose them!" the Jedi calls to Ecksdee while banking hard to the right. The droid is preoccupied with doing his work on the shields, the little bobble of a machine warbling as he's rocked away from his input.

For the moment he seems to have lost the one chasing him in the fray, a quick craned look behind the ship finding nothing but space, explosions, and chaos... at least the Cutlass isn't there.

Attention returned forward, Rune picks up an injured mark on his radar, twisting the X-Wing to come onto the foe's rear before he opens up with his cannons. Again all four glance off the protective bubble and his target flies harmlessly away.

Ulani didn't catch the A-wing next to her 'waving' a wing in her direction... but her R2 did. A boop and whine has Ulani laughing with a jovial air, looking back in time to see Bors smoke a Cutlass so bad that they have to turn tail and run. "Did he? Well next time wave back." She flicks her open comms back on. <<"Appreciated, Buhbors. Would you like for me to pick your next target, as well?">> What a gentleman.

One of Blue Squadron explodes right next to her and knocks the humour right out of Ulani. The chatter on the comms and Poe's ever-so-calm announcement that he's the current belle of the ball sobers her up even more. But not like 'Ektor's having a bad day' sober.

<<"Black Eight. Copy, Black Leader. I'm inbound!">> A Cutlass comes right towards her firing their cannons to which Ulani weaves in between like a hornet; blitzing past them and intercepting one of the bogies on Poe's tail. Cannon fire opens up against Cutlass Twelve and dims their shields to almost nothing.

A twist of his wrist on the yoke and a flick of a dial to kill thrust in one engine turns Bors into a movement that grays his vision even with the compensators where they are dialed. "Fie, thou dare not hurl thy crimson filth at me." the last word more throaty than intended and both engines burst back to full power when Blue Three goes up.

Eyes wide, Bors almost open-mics his disdain, "Bastard..."

Heeling over into a half-roll before he inverts. "Rotter"

The throttle bar is slammed up to the '11' notch on his gauge. His own black, orange and white painted fighter comes up alongside the port side of the Cutlass responsible for the death, Fuselage tilting until his canopy is practically inches from the other. Two fingers up, pointing to his eyes and then one pointing at the figure of the pilot beyond it - Bors's expression venomous before his craft suddenly lurches back behind the fighter.

"Mongrel."

The cannons are spitting the whole way, erasing shields and putting blast after blast into the back of the the enemy cockpit, blowing out slagged armor and transparisteel before the fighter itself goes up in a simulacrum supernova.

Cutlass Four manages likewise to get a hit on Black Six, but Shemar's shields take it and hold even as he was juking to try and evade. "R3! How bad it is?" R3 makes affirmative noises like a happy perculating caf pot so it can't be too bad. "See what you can do with it!"

Flaps shift and Shemar brings his craft around, his HUD keeping track on his target and the status of his squadron both. His previous target blips out of existance and the JG twists his flight path to intercept another.

This time his shots nail it soundly! "Nice!" But it's shields hold and don't go down and in a blink they are past and out of his reticle. Behind him, Shem's R3 droid works to repair the light damage. Hopefully before they take more! The JG does his best to stay on the tail of the Cutlass he's chosen as it tries to shake him off or out manuver him to get a shot off in turn.

Cutlass Four manages likewise to get a hit on Black Six, but Shemar's shields take it and hold even as he was juking to try and evade. "R3! How bad it is?" R3 makes affirmative noises like a happy perculating caf pot so it can't be too bad. "See what you can do with it!"

Flaps shift and Shemar brings his craft around, his HUD keeping track on his target and the status of his squadron both. His previous target blips out of existance and the JG twists his flight path to intercept another.

This time his shots nail it soundly! "Nice!" But it's shields hold and don't go down and in a blink they are past and out of his reticle. Behind him, Shem's R3 droid works to repair the light damage. Hopefully before they take more! The JG does his best to stay on the tail of the Cutlass he's chosen as it tries to shake him off or out manuver him to get a shot off in turn.

Ektor evades one Cutlass, before taking a hard blast to the aft shields from a second as the joust turns about into a sprawling dogfight. Scarred lip twisting in irritation at the reports, and tactical readout, he mutters, <<Rekk it, I ain't getting paid by the hour->> and annihilates one enemy snubfighter before turning his greedy sights on the enemy squadron leader, and blasting through shields a d into hull with a stream of ruby cannonfire. A thought strikes, <<Wait- are we paid by the hour. Drek, I got no idea. Whatever, rekk this guy in particular. Or girl, whichever.>>

<<"Copy Black Eight, good shot! Watch your tail though!">> Poe calls back just as he picks up another tail when the Cutlass Leader breaks off from Ektor's hammering shots. Xer's tenacity surprises a laugh from Poe. He banks hard with two still chasing him, and BB-8's constant worried beeps set Poe over the edge, "I got this, buddy. Happy beeps... happy beeps.. and more shields.." BB-8 makes a raspberry noise, but at least dips back into the socket and out of sight for the moment.

At this point, all of Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green squadrons have deployed. Green already has someone falling back, and Blue Leader is reporting a third enemy squadron joining the heat. Red Leader isn't talking anymore, but that's because they have three fighters on their tail with Red three, for, and five chasing them to try to clear them off. The pirate forces are giving as good as the get, but nothing seems like it's tipping to any favor.

The fleet has begun to trade shots as well, heavy batteries firing from the frigates, focusing on one of the corvettes that's managed to spearhead the pirate fleet. Its shields buckle under the pressure of several heavy turrets from the Pantheon, then a stream of rockets from one of the Republic frigates hit and smash its hull in one section, introducing its engineering crew to the vacuum of space. The Pantheon cruiser begins to engage with the pirate cruiser, trading volleys back and forth, yet the Calamari's redundant shields hold out against the pirate assault.

<<"Stick with it, guys!">> Poe calls out over the comms, his only source of encouragement for the asskicking they're getting.

"Yes, I see it! Stop back-slot flying!" The random bursts of binary in her ear do nothing to help her in the mix of things. New Republic forces are hammering against the pirates trying to stop them in their tracks, and Jessika doesn't need Ailee warbling in her ear to spot how some craft from the other starfighter squadrons are peeling off to limp back to the big capital ships starting to slug it out in space. She has no time to watch the deadly beauty that is the Pantheon filling space with an array of glittering flashes that are its fore turbolasers opening fire, or the show of missiles that wind and blitz towards the enemy corvette in a deadly array of explosions. The battle isn't just about clearing the way anymore.

It's about stopping the enemy from reaching their cruiser. The frigates are in front of the Pantheon and the fighters are in front of it, and that's how they're trying to guide the fight. Jessika sweeps through a window of three fighters trying to jockey around each other for poisition and sets sights on Cutlass Five trying to harass one of Red Squadron. The fighter isn't oblivious, though. It maybe has been anticipating someone hammering in from the side, because the Cutlass yanks out of position and Jessika's initial shots do nothing to pierce through it. Not satisfied, she throws of her inertial dampeners and cuts throttle completely. Unlinking flight assistance, Jessika yanks her snubfighter's nose around on maneuvering thrusters alone, turning her reticle onto the ship and unleashing another punishing volley of laser cannon fire that smashes into the bubble of its shields before popping them outright.

The rest stitch through the craft alone, punching through metal and leaving gaping, carbon scored holes before the craft explodes and eliminates another enemy off the board. Jessika yanks her starfighter back around in the direction its still traveling and smashes forward her throttle again while kicking the dampeners back on. Flight assist re-engaged, she loops, and in that brief hook around through the battle, her targeting reticle comes across the Cutlass squadron's leader. "Bad place to be." Her finger squeezes. Her laser cannons bristle. Cutless One flashes out of existence. <"Black Two, splash three.">

Apparently he didn't lose his tail for long as more red bolts light his shields and drop the gauge on his dash. "Ecksdee!" Rune calls unnecessarily, the little droid already quietly whistling to himself as he continues to fuss with the shields. The Jedi tries evasive maneuvers, turning this way and that, rolling the ship as he passes close to a larger capitol ship, even diving through a particular mess of fighters as they dogfight in the black, nothing seems to work. <"Uh... Glowstick here. Sticking with it but I seem to have picked up some interest and am having trouble shaking them.">

Meanwhile he spies the two that chase Poe, one of which was lit up earlier and didn't seem to get the idea they should leave their leader alone. Knowing his luck with attacks thus far, he targets the one that is already damaged, lining up his shot to squeeze the trigger and unleash blatted justice. This time, surprisingly, his cannons punch through what remains of the shield on the Cutlass, the shots blasting parts from the ship before it veers hard to one side and explodes. <"Black Five, one clear from your tail, Black Leader."> Rune calls before his ship accelerates past the spiraling debris to turn back into the combat once more.

C12. C12, hy didn't you learn your lesson? Why didn't you fly away? Ulani feels herself frowning as her attempt to free up Poe's admirers seems to have failed. Even in space, no one can resist the magnetism that is Mr. Dameron. But this simply will not do.

Her X-wing on its side, Ulani maneuvers in a tight u-turn with intentions of finishing what she started. Poe's warning is echoed by the R2 unit whose dome head does a full rotation. There are certainly no happy beeps to be had from the peanut gallery. Blue eyes flick back out of instinct though all she sees is the R2's single light a bright, warning red.

"I hear you, okay?!" Angry red shots streak so dangerously close to her craft that Ulani can almost smell the ionization. Small adjustments keep her shields clear as she banks to finally take out C12---

Ulani blinks; surprised to find the Cutlass she had been trailing suddenly exploded. It takes her a second to readjust her plans and instead turns on C11 -- the other of Poe's admirers. With an enemy on her tail, Ulani puts C11's shields through its paces but not quite broken.

<<"Buhbors, Techie - attending your tail.">> A partial aileron at reducing speed tucking him on the six of the cutlass that had been making attempts on Black Eight. <<"Break port and drop three degrees, I'll try to chase them into your fire field.">> shields of the enemy fighter opaquing beneath the barrage.

<<"Nary so lucky on this one, keep alert. Their shields hold.">> he hasn't been singing in some time since he had started. That's likely the cause of his misfortune. He's lost the beat and must reclaim it so that sweet, delicious, rock candy coated victory can be tasted upon the tongue of the deserving once more.

The side mounted cannons glow red hot despite the temperatures that would reduce him fragile enough to be cracked asunder by a sharp tap. Ahead, Bors can see the head of the pilot in the target craft swiveling as the cutlass jukes clear of his attack and even gives off a saluting 'wing waggle' in mockery of his attempts.

"Cad"

It has certainly been a target rich environment with shots going every which way. Shemar keeps frosty and focused, determined to catch the Cutlass he's gunning for. He keeps peripherally aware of what's going on around him on his HUD, over his coms, and by sight. Jinking as needed to evade, he manages not to get hit again when fired upon! R3 has completed his repairs and their shields are back up strong.

Seems his Squadron is doing really well. The enemy fighters are thinning out fast as the engagement continues. "Good job, R3!" Shemar's X-wing slews around and sticks tight to prey. The instant he can get a lock into his reticle, he's firing away! His bolts pierce his target's shields and suddenly the Cutlass blooms into a very brief ball of silent fire against the black.

<<"Black Six splashed one! Any dance partners left? Over." A quick check of Ektor's status and then Shemar's looking to see what's left - if any.

The monotone, scrambled, 'disguised' but unmistakeable voice of Ektor cackles on: <<Ah ha. Ha. ha. ha. That's right: rekk him rough, Jess. Or her. Whichever. indecipherable the next one, coming in hot, yeah.>> The Y-wing banks, nacelles glowing orange as he veers back into the fight, lighting up Cutlass 6's fore shields. <<You all are some drek ass indecipherable pirates, yeah. I'm doing you a favor here, yeah.>> Sounds kike Ektor's fine, Shem.

The fight with Cutlass squadron is drawing to a close when Black Squadron suddenly feels the weight of the fight as another enemy squadron squares up against them. Delta Squadron is fresh and shows no mercy against the New Republic special operations team. Blue Squadron suffers two more losses, and Green is falling back. Red holds their ground, but they've lost Reds Eleven and Twelve, and Yellow (Changing to Gold) has broken off to perform a bombing run on the pirate frigate without shields.

<<"This is Gold Leader, starting our bombing run, over.">> The squadron of twelve Y-Wings begin to dive, twisting down and running along the length of the capital ship. Bomb after bomb is dropped against its hull, spreading explosive power and consuming the ship. By the time Gold squad makes it to the end of their run, their nacelles BRIGHT with afterburners, the pirate frigate flounders, then explodes.

The Cruisers continues to hammer at each other, the Calamari Pantheon's shields still holding while the pirate's shields have begun to fade. Battery after battery fire from the Pantheon's starboard side hammering into the pirate ship with devastating result. Meanwhile, the New Republic frigates begin to chase the other pirate escort, hammering it with heavy turbo-lasers. The bright contrails criss-cross from a distance as the three vessels square off, rotating in a spiral of death in a battle of tibanna attrition.

Poe's voice cuts over comms, <<"There's a fourth squadron joining the fray.. they're showing as unknown!">>

<<"Black Leader this is Bravo Leader... Her Royal Majesty sends her regards. Forgive me for saying so, but I believe you could use some help, over.">> Bravo Squadron, the finest pilots of Naboo's Royal Starfighter Corps, begin to join the heat, their golden fighters pairing off with each Black Squadron member to help with their tail.

<<"Bravo Leader.. this is Black Leader.. it's /really/ good to see you. Help where you can. Over.">>

<"Best party I've ever been to,"> Jessika keys up for the briefest of moments. The New Republic may be new in its reinstatement, but most of the pilots behind the stick are Resistance veterans. Nowhere is that more prevalent than in Black Squadron, which is punching above its weight given the sheer number of fighters swarming around them. They're keeping the enemy squadrons so entangled that there's little to spare against the wishbones rushing to eliminate their target with salvos of proton torpedoes. <"They did the booms without you, Tion! You gonna take that flying upside down? Clearing some of your six."> Black Two nudges into the fray behind the resident explosives expert and peppers Cutlass Six with a hammering of fire that overloads its shield generators and punctures through the frame of its craft. Something flares, though the craft itself remains intact and still flying.

As he turns back to the fight, more enemy ships cruise in from somewhere and engage, another squadron appearing to cause mischief. Crimson blazes fill the void and Rune does his best to avoid the enemies he's picked up on his six. With the flood of pirates, each of the squad has someone on their tail, or someones in fact. Two Cutlasses per Republic craft, the team taking hits that diminish their shields but fortuitously nothing more.

The young Jedi yanks the controls to the side, turning the ship sharply to aim for the enemies that harass one of the more injured friendly craft. Hearing the comm chatter, he notes the golden ship that sails in behind, silently thanking Bravo Squad for helping out.

Back to the fight, Rune lines up one of the new Cutlasses that chases Ulani, letting loose with his quad lasers which sail wide of the craft. The pilot must have noticed the X-Wing turning on his tail and bugged out before he could do any damage. A pleased beep from Ecksdee draws Rune's attention to the shield display on his dashboard, a small smile splitting his lips at the read out of 'full'. "Thanks, Ecks!"

The Pantheon has joined the fray. There is cannon fire. Missles. Shield damage and hulls scorched. A pirate frigate turns into so much space debris There are explosions everywhere. Enemy and ally. The Cutlass swarm is thinning... so why does it feel like there are even more of them than before?

<<"Black Eight. Copy, Black Seven.">> C11 bolts upwards, breaking Ulani's trail on them, and joins D5 in a joint attack against her. The first shot is easy to dodge. Too easy, in fact.... Her X-wing takes two hard hits that rattle all the way into her skull and lights up her console with warnings.

"Hello?" A quick look over her shoulder. "Could you---" The R2 cuts her off with two downward buzzing sounds. "I /promise/ we'll name you if we don't die, okay? Can you /please/ do the repairs?!" The R2 relents if only to save its own can, surely, and works on repairing the shields.

Now dancing with two partners, Ulani sticks to Bors' plan and breaks; ducking the three degrees and giving him space to chase C8 into the field of her cannons. This works like a charm on his end. On hers, however, the shots miss entirely and Ulani has to lurch downwards to keep from colliding.

Just when it looks like their sky is getting slightly less thick with enemies... "Maybe I spoke too soon..." Behind Shemar's cockpit, R3 beeps and whistles on a dropping note.

And then suddenly there are golden fighter craft rising up from Naboo to join them! Shemar cheers, the toggles his coms, <<Come join us! Sure are glad to have you!">> In a matter of quick paced moments, he has a Naboo fighter as his wingman! Nifty.

Bright fire bursts arc past his canopy in rapid succession as the pirate's Delta group closes for the attack. Shemar smoothly rolls and evades, flying head on into the fire! Or maybe he gets lucky - but he gets through it and picks one of the two coming at him. The one that happens to lag slightly behind the first. Now with somebody to watch his Six, Shemar fires away, getting one up the kilt but not blowing her into a firey bloom. Not yet! Shem doggedly stays tight in the chase.

There's still a few of the Cutlass's from the original engagement. It's getting to be a real fur ball now with expanding clouds of debris to dodge on the in and out.

Ektor banks to drive be toward the incoming phalanx of fresh enemy fightercraft, weaving in and among the lances of laserfire, as the light bomber rocks slightly with a light hit. An enthusiastic explosion of profanity greets the destruction of the enemy frigate, "YEAH. Rekk em up GOOD, Gold! WOO." Alright, back to the twenty fighters trying to kill him. Oh, another squadron? <<Let em come, yeah. I never met long odds I didn't wish were longer- Wait. There on our side. Oh, thank rekkin gawd. No lie: I was not looking forward to that.>>

It's a near thing, not the first volley that he actually brakes to let fly past the nose of the scout fighter - nor when the ship passes so close that their shields scrape. But the second one comes close enough that he can practically feel the electro-static buildup from the plasma friction on the deflector screens.

"Bollocks!" LANGUAGE. BORS.

Engine power is goosed again with etheric rudder and flap thrusters to swing the nose of the craft in one direction and the aft to the other, all while winging the whole craft into an inverted arch that lets the threatening blasts swing wide and his own cannons continue to blaze, chewing away at the cutlass shields, trying to keep it in Ulani's firing arc.

Bravo Squadron tips the scales in the right direction for the New Republic as the experienced ace pilots get after the more fresh Delta Squadron. In the open joust D11 and D12 are taken out handedly by Bravo Leader, followed by two other Delta fighters that were tag teamed by four of Bravo.

Poe closes his S-foils and braces himself inside the cockpit as two fighters give chase. The sudden burst in speed followed by his immediate pivot, swinging his heavy ass around the pursuing Cutlass fighters catch the pilots offguard when the Resistance hero is suddenly behind them. Poe's S-foils open in the following seconds, and his tailing enemies are picked apart by relentlessly firing X-Wing cannons. Poe passes between the two slagged fighters before they go supernova. <<"Black Leader, splash two!">>

The two New Republic frigates have successfully begun to damage the enemy escort, their turbo lasers firing at a cyclic rate which reduces the escort into two ships, both front and ass-end drawn into the gravity of the Chommell sector's star. RIP.

The pirate cruiser breaks from contact as the Pantheon takes to holding its broadside pattern, cannons, turrets, and turbo lasers firing constantly from its starboard side. Impacts crater and stain the enemy cruiser just as its engines flash and it zips from real space. Its fighters, including the survivors of Cutlass Squad and Delta squad, and all the others, begin to zip, too.

By the end of the mass exodus, only one fighter from the enemy remains, and it's being tailed by three Blue Squadron interceptors who are demanding that C6 follow them in to be arrested. The pirate complies.

<<"Black Leader, this is Commander Tara.. Bravo Leader. Well fought. Mind if we stick around to watch the cannon go up?">>

<<"Black Leader here, stay as long as you like, Commander. Should be plenty of time for drinks after. Over.">>

<<"We'd like that, sir.">>

The acolyte cannon, still grasped within the greenish blue glow of tractor beams, is guided into the pull of the system's star. After about ten minutes of drawing closer and closer to the bright ball of energy, it is consumed by the light never to be seen again.

Mission Accomplished.

<<"Let's pack it in, Black Squad. Our job here is done.">> Black Leader's s-foils close mid-loop, and he angles back toward the Pantheon, who has begun to release search and rescue teams to retrieve pilots who managed to eject. Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix is on the comms directing the rescue teams.