Log:Pirate Party Crashers

Pirates Raid a Hutt Transport

OOC Date: July 28, 2020
Location: Nimia System
Participants: Ektor, Zhu Yan, Eriu Jynx, Emma Starflare, Sajin, B'haav Adasta, Sera West

The Hutts and Sienar-Jaemus Corporation have few things in common: they are tremendously rich, vastly powerful, and widely disliked. Yet, despite their shady operations, both are also legitimate powers in their own spheres, which happen to share a frontier in the stretch of the Outer Rim where Hutt Space abutts the Tion Cluster. Thus, when a minor Hutt Clan hosts Sienar corporate representatives in the Nimia System, to discuss the expansion of manufacturing interests, it is a natural alliance of sorts.

Most importantly, it is also legitimate business, conducted within Hutt Space. Only a lunatic would undertake a raid certain to outrage everyone.

Enter our assembly of cheerful lunatics: Tionese pirates, shadowy smugglers, and a frontier king who should probably know better (but we all know Sajin, bless his heart).

Ektor had been his usual talkative self over holocomms during the hyperspace jump into Hutt Space. << So once we roll in system, will get a scan out for any lootships; those we just wanna ionize and steal, yeah? Everything else- Sienar, Hutt, whatever- just blow the drek out of it. Rekk em *ugly*, yeah?>>

"Hear that?" asked Yan, sitting at the helm of the YT-2000 Redline, which was broadcasting as the Three Move Mate. "He said blow them up." The ship was a junker on paper. It looked like trash. Its paint job of red with a checkerboard (recently applied for today) was peeling. The interior was a mess. The entire preflight computer was missing. Like its pilot Zhu Yan, looks can be deceiving. In his hands, or in the hands of someone like Poe Dameron, it was an absolute monster. Faster than many starfighters, heavier armed than Sienar gunships, and twitchier than a spicehead on a week-long sobriety bender, and agonizing to actually fly. The joy of removing safety systems and forgetting to put them back in.

"EJ. EJ!" Was she paying attention? Probably, but Yan repeated the point. The YT-2000 had a unique cockpit for its line, with the pilot in front and the copilot behind and slightly raised, so Yan was turning his head uncomfortably to actually talk. "You heard the man. Let's start finding out which ones have good money on them, and which ones we can torpedo."

Strapped in loosely, Eriu is doing so in that she can remain comfortable as she works through the computer interface, the hacking unit hooked up and in to help scramble and reassign their ship identification. She chews on a piece of jerky, or some smoked meat. Whatever it is it has her distracted as she flashes her teeth to drag her nail and clean them out. Perfectly white and proportioned as they are. Auburn hair is tossed back as she fans herself in the heat and humidty that Yan keeps the Redline at. "You could not bring down the temp for just a little bit. Its hard to concentrate!" She shoves down her jacket, bundling it up about her waist and behind her. "Space is supposed to be on the chilly side."

She reaches over to hit the last button in the process of the hack. Her finger slides to the side and THUNK. Wrong button. Wrong answer ands he turns her head thinking all is in place but that one digit in the line up might give them away. MIGHT. IF she even notices it.

She tilts her head and peers down at him curiously. "I heard. Yes. Blowing the things up." Thumbs up.

A job, paid in loot. It was still a job for Emma Starflare...although the first one in a while that hadn't required her to be wearing her usual formfitting armor or some sort of evening gown. Nice to mix it up now and then! Even so, there was a little note of amusement for the woman as she'd climbed into the X-Wing. She knew -how- to fly it, as any good Operative should be familier with the tech of the other side, but it was quite the reversal to be flying it -against- Sienar Systems tech.

Sweeping the fighter into formation with the Redline, the 'Trialing' new hire's accented tones come over the comlink. << Scan and highlight targets then. We'll try and keep them off your back.>>

<<"Got it...">> Sounds the voice of Sajin, King of Drik and Janitor to all. Except Hutts and Seinar. Screw them. He wasn't here sitting snuggly in his E-Wing Yellow 13 protected by a set of void armor because he was crazy. Okay, maybe he /was/ a little crazy. those that knew him might think so. He was here because he wasn't the brightest bulb in the bunch and he owed a few people some favors. With him flying in tight formation as they zipped through the Hyperspace Corridor was an advanced Wyvern Superiority Fighter flown by Commander Mekil Zurock, an experiance pilot and XO of the Royal Special Corps also known as Yellow Squadron. Filling out the small flight was another E-wing and an A4 Y-Wing Piloted By Captain Quish and Foss respectivly. <<"You guys ready?">> He asks his pilots. They give an affirmative. Buckets, snug in the astromach socket of his E-Wing makes a smart remark, it popping up on the computer screen in front of the Hapan. <<"Sure... if we don't get shot down and die, I'll take you to the strip club again...">>

Sera West sits behind Ektor-Xer Apollyon wearing a blue coverall jumpsuit, and Teta Goggles which have been lifted to rest just above her brow to hold her long dark hair back. She's playing a computer game on the terminal behind the Ace pilot, biting her lower lip while he chatters on about things Xer chatters on about. Most times it's punctuated with questioned 'Yeahs', or obnoxious laughter. "I should've peed before all this." Sera says in an annoyed Imperial accent. "And you do this all the time? I'd drive myself mad sitting around this long; know what I mean?"

The drop from hyperspace sees the screen flicker over, and Sera lowers her goggles down, squinting a bit.

"Which ones are the bad guys? I mean.. good guys; erm, which ones are we shooting at?"

B'haav Adasta looks very skeptically at Eriu Jynx. "I was told this is a race. That does not sound like a race. Am I going to be a pirate by the end of the day?" He paces back and forth in the corridor, looking for something to latch onto or at least something to tie himself to if space starts to get bumpy. "I've never been shot at... In space." He is so nervous, he even takes his hat off to scratch at his scalp, a metal glint catching the lights of the corridor before he slams the hat back in place.

He calls out to the front of the ship. "What can I do to help here? I don't really want to die today." He waits, muttering to himself. "No more than usual, I suppose."

Nimia is a minor industrial system, near Klatooine and the Si'Klaata star cluster. It's a dingy little dun ball, that looks greasy even from ten thousand kilometers away. The ships in the region are far more significant than the system itself: the sleek and deceptively graceful profile of a Hutt Tarrada-class frigate hangs in the void with a Krayt gunship alongside. The Hutt ships have rendezvoused with a Sienar Mk II transport, and its escort: a Guardian light cruiser and six TIE/fo fighters. The attackers numbered ten mismatched fightercraft, and a pair of light freighters. The pirates' intel was good, they emerge from hyperspace mere kilometers from the Hutt-Sienar rendezvous.

Over his shoulder, Ektor drawls to Sera, "Allll the time. And yeah, you *really* shoulda." Oh look, obnoxious laughter as they emerge into realspace. "Short, short version: anything that's a TIE, or bigger than us is prolly a bad guy, yeah? Hey, girl.. get a deep scan of that Mark Two, yeah? Lemme know cargo." Over comms, as he arms linked concussion missiles, <<Janissars, get locked onto the customs corvette, yeah? I'm gonna go shoot up that big Hutt-sucker. Everybody else, shoot at what you want, but if you happen to keep them fighters off our backs, therea??s an extra drink in it for you at the after-party, yeah?>>A

"Really? Now? We're on a raid!" The thing about Yan is that he wore that jacket everywhere. Even on Tatooine, where it was 'too hot' at the coldest of times. And the internal temperature of the ship was in the mid-eighties (that's high-twenties for you normal people) with an uncomfortable amount of humidity. Wasn't hard to recognize he was from somewhere tropical. Some people knew it was Thyferra. Most didn't, because Yan was cagey like that and loved trying to make people think he was Corellian.

There was the whuuunh of hyperspace reversion and Yan got a good look at the sitch in front of him. "Uh," he said, trying to count the number of fighters before giving up. "Okay. Bav, get in one of the turrets and start shooting at fighters. I don't care if you don't hit, just make them scared-like. EJ, get me some sort of info on the big ships. The freighter preferably," because Yan hadn't heard that the other guys were scanning it too. He flipped the Redline on its side, straining the internal compensators and causing the ship to whine in protest, and let loose the ion cannons on the Mark 2. Of course, he'd over-flipped, and the shot sizzled wide. "Alright time to fly fast. Hold on."

"Just pretend its a race, B'hhhhhhhhhhaav," Eriu says with that lingering h to his name. She hums and haws as she glances out the front viewport and sighs. She moves the panel with their horribly rendered ship IFF and moves on to working through the sensors of the ships. "How about I jam them first then we look at getting you a prime spot to target yeah? Just shoot!" He does and misses. There is a subtle SNORT from behind him as she coughs a few times. "Sorry I inhaled down the wrong lung?" Lame excuse but she is dong her best now. Tap tap tap, click tap, click! She is quickly working through the networks and managing to get past their systems she smiles. A chuckle leaves her.

"/I/ am amazing. You owe me a haircut, Yan. YOUR haircut by the way." She nods her head as the infiltration is complete and she works her magic. She chews on another piece of jerky and hums. "Shoot em up!"

Well, time to see what an X-Wing could do. And by that, Emma was mostly concerned with its ability to keep her alive, but she had a job to do. Sweeping the fighter towards the hostiles, her gloved fingers squeeze down on the triggers and those laser cannons give of their signiture array of blasts...but the TIE manages to evade her initial assault, bringing a little frustrated click of her tongue.

"Not the best start," she murmers in the space of the cockpit, mostly to herself.

Sajin brings up his targeting display as soon as they revert into real space, looking over what everyone else is targeting. <<"Foss, give Yan some support with that Run on the Mark 2. The rest of us will keep those TIE's occupied with whoever Yan is letting play with his X-Wing. Must be a good pilot, no way he'd let me in that cockpit...">> The Y-Wing breaks off to go form up with the YT-2000, eventually unleashing a volly of blue ION fire into the shields of the Mark 2. The rest of Yellow Flight fairs about as well as Yan, the TIE's dodging their fire. Except for Mikel. He was clearly the better Pilot out of the lot and well, more experianced. That's why Sajin let him fly the Wyvern... the very expensive can't be made anymoer Wyvern because cartoonishly big boobed Sephis disappered without a trace. Who knew why! What a Mystery! The Wyvern's rapid fire canons smash into Alpha 6.

"Hold on, love." Sera says, flipping a series of switches on her terminal and peering over the Ace pilot's shoulder. She got a look at the ship he wanted scanned, so now it was a matter of making the computer do its thing. Sera brought the scanner up, rotating the dish, and ran her program. <<"Looks like that Mark II has got some recent 40 tons of cargo. It's listed undisclosed, Yeah? But they put Diplomatic Envoy on it. Must be a real big fat princess in there. Forty rekkin' tons.. girl, what you eatin'?">> Sera's voice cuts out as she looks around and has a moment of vertigo. Despite all the instruments and the sounds of comms, she feels very small in this small craft. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes a moment.

"Oh, a race." B'haav nods, his face growing red before his eyes shoot wide again. "I haven't been to one of those either. This was my first time." He watches EJ's work at the computer and knows that he likely can't add much if anything to her tasks. He looks at the gunner chair and wonders if he can convince it to shoot bad guys for them. Then he blinks. "I don't suppose we could try to isolate comm traffic for their droids? Maybe I could convince them to take a much-needed vacation or something... I could whistle my backside off." That was dumb. He is dumb and he keeps getting pulled into these things, like a dumb person. He continues to pace.

"Kriff," he mutters under his breath, torn between watching lasers and cannons firing at them, or not seeing it coming. "I need a drink."

"I know what she about to eat, yeah?" Ektor cackles to Sera, taking a hit to the forward shields in the course of weaving his heavily modified Preybird bomber in a d among lances of quad laser fire. << I got a lock. Hey, Redline- wait, ain't that the same name you had before? ANYWAY. Watch this, yeah?>>

Elsewhere, the skirmish is uncertain: a pair of the Tionese fighters are hit and break off their bombing run; these are pirates, not disciplined soldiers. Still, four fighters remain on target, as computers signal a lock.

"Hey! I can shoot!" Yan protested, all evidence to the contrary. There was some under the breath grumbling about his own competence before he came around to make another pass. Out of the viewport, with its great visibility, he got to see the dogfight. Pirates tangling with TIEs, hits being traded back and forth. His own Heartbreak 1 was dancing in a manner that Yan probably couldn't replicate, and amongst the flight of Yellow Squadron he saw a Wyvern. The last of the SW-19 Wyverns.

There was a pang in his heart as Yan thought about all the money he sank into that fool endeavour.

"Or," the small smuggler was getting frustrated now. "Bav." PEW PEW. FRITZL. "You can go into the turrets. And start shooting. And if you hit something, great, I'll buy you lunch. Just make them scared, ok ka- WHAT?" Redline?! Yan did a doubletake at the comms. That was bad. "EJ, can you check the IFF again? If it's not working just go and pull it out. Like, with your hands."

"Right...well I was JAMMING the damned Guardian but it looks like they worked through it...Drek..KRIFF!!" She hesitates and then finally starts to work at the IFF. "As you wish, as you wish. Lets hope they can't get a lock on us just yet." It might hurt. She is quick to set to the task but there is a furrowed look of frustration before there is a rather un-Hapanlike cry of disgruntled irritation. "KRIFFFING piece of drek...". She can't quite get it fixed and seems to have made it worse. Beacon anyone?

There is a STOMP of her foot down that might rattle the chair in front of her when her knee hits and she curses at the growing sting. "I was never made for this. So much pressure. Please...don't get us killed."

Okay, now Emma was getting the hang of things. Or at least she seemed to be. Weaving between the bolts coming her way, the blonde in the X-Wing manages to line up the offending fighter that managed to evade her first salvo. She wanted to correct that!

Squeezing down on the triggers now, the cannons cripple the fighter, blasting away shield and hull to leave the craft in a rather bad way. Left in the solo craft, she had no idea of the ongoing banter/light panic of her compatriots, but hey. That was probably for the best!

<<"Get on the Jannis... Jannnisssa.... How ever the hell you say it! Cover them!">> Sajin commands his units while he angles in tightly on a the same TIE he was chasing previously. His heavy laser cannons errupt, crimson death ripping through the TIE and sending it into a firey uncontrolled spin. It's done. <<"Splash one!">> Offers the King of Drik. Quish errupt with Eulation, <<"Same here you Majesty!">>

Mekil gets a light tap on his shields, his dorid Why-Too immediatly going to work on them. The Wyvern moves in such a way that it's hard to track in they blackness of space. He rips another rapid laser hit into the TIE he's been trading hits with. <<"Keep rekkin drek up boys!">>

Silphur Foss in his Y-Wing lets another volyl of ION fire into the Mark II... <<"Man this thing has a lot of shields...">> Maybe he should have gotten a bomb lock and did a run on the shields. Hind Sight!

The craft shaking made Sera instinctively reach out to her sides and grip.. whatever she could grip. A moment of terror sweeping over her as the ship somehow sustained itself and didn't combust. It was one thing to build these crafts for this sort of heat, but to ride in it too? Sera was a little stressed out.

Looking to her instruments, she began to focus on what she knew. She knew the ship's systems.. the power output. She could reroute power to the shields and loop the other systems to recharge while the shields held. Then it was just a matter of switching the outputs back. Sera unplugged one cord, and plugged it into another slot. She flipped a series of switches, then smacked her terminal to bring the shields back up to ninety percent.

B'haav blinks, suddenly seeing two very different courses layed out in front of him. One in which he enhances Eriu Jynx's unfortunate mishap, or the other where he follows Zhu Yan's suggestion and accidentally shoots one of the good guys... Bad guys? Are we the baddies? He looks from the gunner chair to the comm panel and back, before heading over to look over the Hapan's shoulder. "Um, try this, maybe?" He pushes a few buttons to cut the power and then pulls the IFF out.

"This probably has a case, right?" He starts looking around for a conveniently-sized container in which to stow the device. "Some sort of receptacle?"

Ektor is flying what is very likely the most heavily modified Preybird in the Galaxy. When the missile lock chimes, a salvo of FIVE concussion missiles streaks out toward the Hutt frigate *Ochuda*, followed in very unsafe succession by two more salvos. Sera is going to have to replace the missile triggers, again. No sooner does the engineer sit back up from working her magic on the shields than she is treated to the up close sight of a Tarrada class capital ship coming apart in flames. Meanwhile, the Krayt gunship has kept up pursuit of the Redline- no, now it's the REDLINE, in blinking letters- and now it just displays on all sensors as *ERROR*. The Krayt plants a concussion missile into the ERROR. A feminine voice in the lead pirate HLAF crows, <<Bite me, Hutt-suckers!>> as the remaining quartet of Tionese fighters land enough missiles on the Guardian light cruiser to set the craft pivoting amid cascading system failures. Escape pods begin to launch. After a punishing onslaught, only four TIEs, a Krayt, and the Mark II remain.

There was a painful-sounding whiIIRRR?! noise from the cockpit as Yan made his second pass, and his attention was immediately caught by the big red LOCK ON indicator he'd bolted on to the top panels from a salvaged A-Wing. "Uh oh." The internal compensators complained loudly as Yan pushed the *ERROR* straight downwards to throw off the lock, which did nothing to despatch the concussion missile on his rear. His glorious rear. "HANG ON TO SOMETHING!" he erupted, and then...

BOOM.

Shields are great at preventing damage but when it came to pure kinetics, explosions were pretty high up on the list. Everything in the ship shook. Things flew off shelves, cupboards opened, and Yan only avoided going face-first into the viewport by virtue of some really good crash webbing. "Motherf..." he hissed, and his face darkened.

He wasn't happy.

Yan's hands danced on the controls, cutting thrust at the same time he made a pull-up maneuver. The ship swung on its axis, presenting its roof momentarily to the Krayt gunship before they found themselves face-to-face. "Die," he murmured, pulling the trigger on his Sienar-issue flight yoke. Honestly this ship was as close to being an Ugly as possible. The heavy cannon blared, bathing the cockpit in red, but went just wide. Yan continued the movement, completing the three-sixty, and gunned the engines again.

Glancing about as B'haav materializes out of no where and fixes the problem for her, EJ blinks and hesitates. "For uhhh now, the floor. Just set it down and get back to shooting!" She says because she is grinning a bit and offering the Balosar a wink. She chuckles and turns her attention forward just as she sees the sudden appearance of a missile not far off. "YAN!" She declares, as if he might not see it and try to avoid their impending uninvited friend. As they are slammed, she rocks in her seat and the loose belt is suddenly something of concern as she slides forward in her seat and coughs as the restrains finally stops her with a jolt. "KRIFF.." she winces, heaving in a breath as she feels her ribs ache. "I gotta take down that ship's targeting abilities."

She reaches back out, feeling her arms tingle a little from the brief loss of blood flow. Red hair is shoved from around her face after it had suddenly poofed forward. She manages just to squeak by their systems and create a bit of fuzz and problematic interference with their targeting computer. She speaks over comms. <"Chew on that you low life hutt-sucker wannabe!">

"Owwww..." she is rubbing at her ribs as she tries to fix the straps to keep her a bit more firmly in place.

It was a tricky business, avoiding getting blasted and blasting TIEs at the same time. As green laser cannon fire streaked past her, Emma attempts to bring her X-Wing around, firing a strafing run at the TIE she'd heavily damaged...and managing to get the bolts -around- the TIE's cockpit rather than hitting the damn thing.

Right, the guns were on the wings, not under the cockpit.

Sajin picks his next target, firing upon another TIE as he swiftly moves through space in his nimble E-Wing. Quish in the other E-Wing misses his target, the larger crimson bolts streaking through the black before eventually fadding away from the battlefield. Mekil finishes off the TIE he'd been dancing with while his astromech announces his shields are back up to full.

The Quad lasers on the Mark II almost rip apart the shields on Yellow Four. Slphur Foss rocks hard in his cockpit, pulling away from his run quickly. <<"Why-For, get us some shields back.">> Brave or maybe stupid, he comes about, his targeting computer coming down before him. His proton Torps armed and ready to break through the shields as he attemps to get a lock.

Sera is able to quickly cycle the power back to their original paths by slapping a series of switches down in the back. The console flickers slightly and she smacks it. Hard. "Stop that." It was a power issue, because XER was releasing an unholy rekking firestorm and firing all rockets at once. When the system recovered, and stats read clearly again, Xer might notice his shields were at full strength, and Sera? Tipped her head back and SIGHED.. stressed but taking a moment to breath.. for herself. Did she still need to pee?

B'haav Adasta grins at this attaboy, looking for a corner to drop the module in when a quiet whirr is followed by a loud call to brace. He is flung off his feet, taking a knock to the back of his head that leaves his hat forgotten on the ground and a blur around his vision. He pulls himself up on some sort of chair - a gunner's chair? - and falls into it, tucking the module in a nook underneath. Squinting to get his eyes clear, he adjusts the controls and feels the gun pivot. Oh, this thing. He can do this. "I've got this," he tells himself right before he squeezes off a burst of fire, watches it ping off of a shield and fly at one of the friendly ships. "I do not have this. Zhu Yan, I did not have this!"

The violence in the void in chaotic amid the carnage: the increasingly outnumbered TIEs swarm desperately to avoid fire, while more guns are focused on their ponderous charge. The Krayt gunship remains tangled with the *ERROR*, but neither can strike the other. An HLAF leads a trio of civilian fighters in chasing the Sienar craft, as Ektor mutters over comms, <<They tryin to run- drek, hit em with everything! Anybody with ions, wait until the shields go down to fire, yeah? Rekk em up, they trying to run off with our loot!>>

Zhu Yan saw a shot from his ship lance out and hit his other ship and his cold fury suddenly and very rapidly bloomed hot. "Bav I t-" hang on, he needed comms. Bip. <<"Bav! Them! Not us! You shoot my X-Wing again and I shoot you, alright? Alright!">> Bip. Ugh! Is this what Kasia felt like?! Turning back to his sensors, he saw the MK II start to move. That set something off. Calculations ran through Yan's head, hyperspace vectors, rate of rotation, current speed... "Uh oh." He smacked the comm again, around about the same time he came about for another pass on the escaping freighter. Bip. <<"The Mark Two is on a hyper vector! Everyone, target that ship and shut it the frack down!">> Nevermind that Ektor had already said it. Forgetting to swap over to the Ion, he shot space again. He shot it REALLY HARD.

Narrowly avoiding fire, Emma's X-Wing sweeps around, finally managing a finishing shot on the damaged craft before her lips pull into a frown. Those weren't green! Tracing the angle back to it's source, only now does Emma finally key her commlink and join in on the conversation that had been going on throughout the battle. Her accented tones didn't exactly sound particularly thrilled.

<<"Another down...and who in the hells just shot at me? X-Wings should be rather distinct!"

Silphur's Y-Wing is rocked again, his droid behind him in the socked letting out a worried whine at the Quad lasers struck again! <<"Keep it together Why-For, almost there!">> The tone for Captain Foss' targeting lock for his Torpedoes soudned loud and clear. He squeezes the trigger on the yoke and the puple blushing cones leapt from their launches slamming into the shields of the Mark II in a brilliantly bright explosion! <<"Ya! Ha!">> Said silphur as he banked around, switching to Ions. <<"Shields almost gone.">> Sajin looks behind him towards the Mark II and the Y-Wing. Hazel eyes mind the sensors... not many TIE's left. <<"Alright let's get those shields down!">> All of Yellow Flight turns, coming in on the Mark II in formation, red death leaping from their cannons and collapsing the shields, eating violently into the hull! <<"Woah not so hard now!">> Says Commander Zuroch.

Eriu looks lost for a moment as the large ship starts to flee. She chews on her lip, moving it about a moment as if processing a few thoughts. Finally she looks up and pushes hair from her face again to furiously type in an attempt catch up with what is happening. Her gaze narrows and she tries desperately to provide extra pings to the MK II But fails. Even if they blip across sensors theyw ill know they are phantom. That leaves EJ just staring for a moment and letting out a long breath. "I certainly need more practice at this." She remars and glances down and past towards Yan even as she rubs at her neck and chest, still feeling the bruises form due to the sudden pull of the straps not moments before.

Though they seem to being taking fire any longer.

With shields up, Sera gets the jist that they're trying to keep that freighter from jumping away. She takes the quiet initiative to run a diagnostic scan of the exterior of the freighter, then interfaces with the Tetan Goggles, taking a moment to project a holo-blueprint of the ship and locate just where the hyper-drive might be. It takes an experienced Engineer like Sera a few moments to decipher the plans before finding it. "Targeting update. Try hitting it here." Sera says over Xer's shoulder. Her voice tight, and accented, clearly a little stressed with the battle. Hopefully this sped things up a bit.

B'haav winces at the chides from the intercom. He was just going to drink whiskey and watch the stars move today! <<"Yeah, sorry. New guy. New to the whole... Shooting thing, at least on this end of the equation.">> "I'd much rather the nice dinner, if I could have chosen." He knits his brow in concentration as he tries to line up another shot, for redemption, or at least a reduction in his pending beating. An improvement as this time his shots don't end up in friendly shields, but his contribution to the fight is still a grand total of nothing.

"As soon as this is over, I'm drinking the whiskey and pretending that part didn't happen. A little delusion never did too much damage..." He watches through the ports, seeking some sign of the outcome of this pleasure cruise.

<<Ek-shiik, if you ain't blown up yet, you and Jett better put some ions on that boat, yeah?>> Ektor grimaces as Sajin's Yellow flight bring down the shields of their quarry, and carve up the hull playing beneath. "Drek, they're almost clear-" Sera's input gets a crooked grin. "Girl, you are just dirty." A short chuckle and a nod. <<Arright, coming around.. let's see if we can't snag this fat assed Princess, yeah?>> Cannons armed, fire link disabled.. a single blast to avoid destroying the whole thing... and it works. One good blast and the big ship's hyperdrive goes offline, as the Preybird veers away. << Send in the boarders, and let's get the rekk outta here before the Hutts realize we stomped on their tails."

Alright. Alright. With the enemy forces rabbiting and the freighter down for a spot of old fashioned ultrapiracy, Yan stopped doing his whole freighter dance thing and the swirling starlines outside quickly levelled into recognizable constellations. "Okay, so," he said, "how many of them do you reckon pinged the IFF? Because me and the Hutts are in good at the minute and I don't want to have to burn this cover and disappear again." Again? Cover? What was he going on about?

Cringing at the mention of pinging the IFF, EJ looks down at her screen. "One, maybe two. ...maybe all but hey! Most of them are blown to bits?" SHe sounds hopefuly as she clears her throat and leans forward. "So maybe we just change the IFF permanently." She rolls her shoulder, sitting back as she adjust the straps so they do not catch on the bruises. Her eyes flicker up and then close as she sits back. "Okay so, I need to work on my skills a little more." She tucks her chin and glances down to see where that unit is that B'haav had masterfully removed.

"I mean we won? Right?" They won! Totally did. Points. "I will start working on the shiields."

Yellow Flight forms up as the battle quiets, moving into a patrol pattern while the pirates do their pirate thing: pillaging and murdering! Silphur and his droid work on bringing the shields back up even higher in the Y-Wing as Yellow flight cruises around the perimeter of this section of the black, their painted gunmetal Camo and Yellow trim almost causing a morphing effect amongst the starts and debries.

Sajin was not a smart man. He hadn't changed any of the names of his ship's IFFs. Though, anyone could be four expensive and high-end fighters, one exceptionally rare, named Yellow 1-4... except it wasn't. It was Yellow 2-4, and 13 an odd number to have amongst them. Then again, perhaps it was the mystery and reputation the King of Drik was after too. Did he really want people knowing it was him and the Janissars who rekked up this many TIEs and a Mark II? He'll likely never tell and only true scholars would debate much later at the historical account of whether Sajin; Handsome Hapan, Janitor to all, and King of Drik was really far smarter than the historical record portrayed.

Nah. He was clearly just a dummy, but rekk could he fly!

"Ugh.. I'm glad this is over." Sera says, rocking in her seat. She pulls her helmet off, then her goggles and rakes her hands back through her hair, steadying her breathing a bit and trying to find a happy place. She felt cramped up though, she needed to stand, to get out of this thing. AHHH! Her quiet torment isn't voiced, but she shifts alot, fighting the mental demons and trying to control her breathing to just.. calm! Calm! CALM SERA!

B'haav Adasta watches the last shot seem to bring the battle to a close, though what exactly happened is not something he can wrap his head around. He gently pats the gun controls as he extracts himself from the gunner's chair and backs away. He sees Eriu's eyes sweeping the floor when he remembers the module. Looking down to the underneath of the chair, he notices his hat now abandoned on the floor. A hand shooting up to his head, where the cover should be, he turns his head awkwardly away to hid the right side as he squats straight down to retrieve the hat and replace it, covering the strange glint on his right antennapalp. In a move that is the opposite of smooth, he side-steps while crouched, leaning under the chair to grab the semi-stowed module. He stands, holding it out. "Is there anything I can do that doesn't involve accidentally attacking, um, allies?"

He begins pulling the bottle of emergency whiskey out of his jacket pocket with his free hand. Scratch that. Celebration whiskey.

It wasn't pretty. It was messy, and will likely have some repercussions for the foreseeable future. Several pirate ships are damaged, but the prize is secure and the heroic (?) outlaws all escape, alive. <<Arright.. party at my place, yeah? Catch you all back where the void don't stink of Hutt,>> Ektor bids in cheerful parting. Reflexively, he keeps up a lazy chatter at Sera for the long (long, long) hyper jump back into Tionese space. The subject barely matters, but it isn't silent.