Log:Resistance: Jurisdiction

Resistance: Jurisdiction

OOC Date: December 3, 2019
Location: Ileenium System
Participants: Karé Kun, Tallissan Lintra, Ektor, Elrych Cometburn, Nova Korell, Callax Dalso, Zandra naMuriel, Poe Dameron, The Resistance

The colony of New Alderaan on D'qar is not a formal ally of the Resistance. Still, several powerful allies of the fallen Republic reside there, and the Ileenium System has become something of a staging ground for Resistance-friendly convoys, both smugglers and honest traders, alike.

Thus, when a distress call is received from Ileenium System Defense, stating that a Naboo-bound convoy is under attack by unknown forces, an ad hoc squadron of on-call rapid response fighters are sent from Naboo to D'qar. It is a return, for some.

Just as it was the last time Resistance ships were present at D'qar, a small force is heavily outnumbered in a one-sided standoff. Three bulk freighters have been crippled by a volley of ion bombs, protected by a quartet of Z95 Headhunters designated *Celchu 1-4*.

Opposing the handful of friendlies is a Marauder-class corvette (the *Restoration*), three troop transport shuttles advancing on the knocked-out freighters, a dozen Corporate Sector Zeta-51 fightercraft, and- to the likely shock of many- four NS-1 model Naboo bombers.

The pilot of Celchu 1 is presently broadcasting, << ..I repeat: we have no evidence of wrongdoing and you do NOT have authority to enforce those charges; the New Alderaan government maintains rule of law on this sector->> the debate is cut off by a warning shot from the corvette's turbolasers.

A feminine voice aboard the *Restoration* states harshly, <<The Hydian League is disinterested in your excuses. These ships will be boarded and taken to Hydian space for trial and sentencing. Stand aside or be destroyed.>> Ominously, the boarding shuttles continue their path toward the crippled freighters, escorted by the phalanx of Zeta fighters.

"Crummy rustin'-out crudjamajig! Howcum I ain't got one of the FANCY boats yet? Everyone else gets a fancy boat 'cept for Zonk! All on account of I ain't gradjimated yet!"

Struggling with his ill-fitting spacesuit's collar with one hand, and struggling with his X-Wing's controls with the other, the Resistance's Toughest Pilot is managing to stay in formation with the rest of the group.

But just barely.

"Shoulda stayed back on Nar Shaddaa! Them Dunelizards come with Heated Seats, if yooze can afford the Deluxe Package."

As the group arrives, it quickly becomes clear that a scuffle of some sort is about to ensue, but it's probably a bit more nuanced than Zonk is currently mentally equipped to deal with. After all, there's no heated seat in this thing. So he looks left and right, and awaits his orders, mashing the controls with his fat purple fingers.

The sudden appearence of Resistance fighters pour in in bulk. The first of which is a T-85 X-Wing black and orange designated Black Leader. <<"This is Black Leader, all fighters report in and form on my wing.">> The lead initiates his engines and begins to close in. For now, they listen to the open broadcast, but it came as no surprise when Poe's voice filled the channel. <<"Hydian League craft, this is Commander Poe Dameron. This is your final warning. Halt your operation and leave the system, or we will be forced into combat action.">>

No matter how many times Captain Lintra has answered a distress call, the last moments before transition into real space raise her heart rate. Fiver whistles the last countdown and they flash into the system, the commander's call crackling over coms to form up on his wing.

<Roger that, Black Leader. Black 5 on your starboard wing, alpha position. It's looking busy out here.> Opening the foils on her T-85 she powers up to move into formation.

<Black Eleven, standing by. All systems green,> Nova coms, locking s-foils into attack position and evening out the deflector screens. The mess outside looks about like the usual odds: Outnumbered, outgunned, and lacking capship support. Even outdated fighters can hit hard, when pressed.

But it never hurts to put on a brave face. <Or you can /not/ do the smart thing against the state of the frelling art force of starfighters, and see how many pieces you pull back into port in,> she chimes in. <Either way's fine with us!>

Merek takes a moment to settle into the turret seat within the Y-Wing, while the team comes about into the system, then the enemy begins arriving. He shifts on the targeting computer, while he nods a bit to Ektor, "Alright," he says.

Zipping into real space nit too far away in formation from black leader is Black 12 pikoted by Elrych and his droid Eggsy. His mysic is already playing. A swinging jam, real cool. <<"Twelve here... Look at those N1s... damn crooks">>

Along with the x wings, there's one lone A wing sliding out of hyper and forming up where she's supposed to in the line. <Black 10, forming up,> she says. A guick glance and she adds, <Let me know if you want jammers.> Because one never knows, and that's on the secure channel. Zan doesn't talk to the public folks, preferring to remain a mystery, other than to her own crew. Instead, she sits there, holding her position, and eyeing all the targets. "eeny meeny miny mo."

Leaping into realspace amongst the rest of Black Squadron is Callax's own Black Nine, cutting through the void with the rest of the vessels. Being the skirmisher, his ship moves just as fast, but with particular maneuverability - especially at the deft hands of the genetically-engineered pilot. "Well, that's not nice at all, is it, Babo," he murmurs over the comms to the R2 beeping and chittering in response back in its socket. "We'll have to teach them a lesson or six. Keep your eye on the shields, won't you, darling? I'd really rather not lose this ship too."

And on his screens? Ah, wonderful. A Marauder. Callax clucks his tongue and makes a note to avoid the old yet still eminently lethal tractor beams. << Black Nine reporting, Leader. Point me in a direction, my guns are warm. >>

A solitary Y-wing has jumped into the system along with the A-and-Xwings. Ektor adds his irreverent voice to the litany, <<Hey, I'm here too. And breaking up an arrest? FINALLY something I got some experience with, yeah?>>

At the arrival of the Resistance force, a subtle shift of positions occurs among the Hydian ships: the Naboo style bombers are drawn back closer to the corvette, while the squadron of Zeta-51 fighters repositions to screen the shuttles from the Resistance rather than the outdated New Alderaan Headhunters. The Hydian commodore retorts to Poe's ultimatum <<No, this is YOUR final warning, *I'm* the one who- damnit-.>> a muttered curse as the transmission is broken off, and the Hydian craft accelerate to attack speed, and open fire.

<<"Resistance fighters, we have positive ID. BB-8 has marked all enemy craft, priority set to the boarders. Celchu Squadron, maintain your defensive position over those crafts, we'll do the heavy lifting.">>

Poe dips his vessel toward the first of the boarding shuttles and opens his S-foils for attack. Large lances of red smack the shuttle hard, shattering their shield and encouraging them away from the assault. <<"One's limping.. coming about!">>

<<"Resistance fighters, we have positive ID. BB-8 has marked all enemy craft, priority set to the boarders. Celchu Squadron, maintain your defensive position over those crafts, we'll do the heavy lifting.">>

Poe dips his vessel toward the first of the boarding shuttles and opens his S-foils for attack. Large lances of red smack the shuttle hard, shattering their shield and encouraging them away from the assault. <<"One's limping.. coming about!">>

"Target acquisition on Kappa Two, Fiver. We get them out of the way before we start on the Zeta's" The console lights color Lintra's helmet shield as she veers out of formation to find a better target vector to take on the transports. Three solid hits frazzle lightning over the transports shields bringing them down to a fragile state for the next in their group to rain fire down on.

"Dagblast it!" When his cannon fails to his the intended target, Zonk begins threatening his controls with a balled up fist. Unfortunately, the controls don't seem to be impressed by his physical prowess.

"Knew I shoulda got one of them FANCY boats! Now I ain't gonna get credit for no kills and I'll NEVER GRADJIMATE!"

<On your caboose, Zonk. I'll back you up,> Nova promises, forming on the Houk's wing and taking aim at the transport he's vectoring to attack. Seeing his fire flash past without effect, she fires... with the usual results. <On second thought, I wonder if there's an opening for a security guard someplace...>

Merek begins taking a little bit to line up with that targeting computer, while he takes a strike with the ions, which shimmers along the transport. A nod while he looks to Ektor, "Alright, transport's managed."

Black 12 Elrych swings up just behind Tallie on her wing. <<"In for the rebound, Sunshine.">> Onces she finishes her attck, Elrych looks for the weakest point in the transport. He squeezes the trigger, scarlet bilts ripping through the remainder of the shields an intonthe engines which chainnreaction and explode. There is a moment of silence before. "Oops..."

They're opening up fire? Silly silly Hydian whosits! Zandra grins as she hears Poe, and she hits her throttle, thrusters hitting that glow that sends her A wing hurtling forward with a whole lot of speed. Boarding transports? Primary target acquired. Zan picks one that isn't playing with her friends, and heads that way. <Targetting K3,> she calls out, and then she lets her cannons fly, the lasers scoring hits on the transport she's facing, before she drops, spins and comes back, intending a second run.

Like a hornet with a vibrosword for a stinger, Callax's Black Nine comes whistling through the dark, guided by the pale pilot's gloved and gusseted hands; his expression set, the pilot sights the weakened transport through the targeting display, so tuned an practiced now that he could aim them down boresights if he needed to. "Ah, there you are, my pretty," he coos, then mutters a clipped "Not you, darling," as Babo trills in question. His fingers clench on the gun triggers, and the ship is momentarily illuminated red as heavy laser bolts snap through the void at his target. Though not nearly so fast as the guns of the X-wings, Red Nine's guns hit with all the force of a doped-up Krayt dragon, and so the unfortunate transport's shields not only collapse, but the hull ruptures like an overripe fruit amidst the flames and bodies of its murdered complement.

Callax passes this bossoming doom and forges on, a poisonous smile spreading across his lovely features. "Get a target lock on that corvette, darling," he tells Babo as he moves to sight the next transport. "Never know, we might be in the position to help run it off."

<"Black Four moving in on target."> As Kare comes screaming into view, she pulls away with a veering pull to try to break away and tag onto one of the fighters. Her foils snap open like a predator ready to strike and as she settles the ship into place she takes steady aim. Depressing the trigger the X-wing lights up space around it with the bolts from all four foils. They tear through the darkness and a few slam into the shields weakening them to a small extent.

"I hear you, Spooky-tank. Have fun, yeah?" Ektor answers his gunner lazily, while guiding the light bomber in an attack run on the hitherto untouched Kappa 4 troop transport. A punishing pass hammers the vessel's shields driving the last of the four off of its intended boarding run. <<Heh heh.. Looks like the boarding operation got called off, yeah?>>

Taken aback by the swift maneuvers of the Resistance craft, the Hydian Zeta-51s howl after the X-wings (and A, E, and Y), landing several punishing volleys of their own, but not yet knocking any of their rebel tormentors out of the fight. The Marauder-class *Restoration* affixes a tractor beam onto the crippled AAL transport, drawing the crippled craft inexorably back toward the corvette's hangar. The main guns on the corvette open fire, too slow and heeavy to track any of the nimble fighters, but firing in such a way as to close off certain vectors to the Resistance craft.

With the fighters complicated the situation, it became difficult for Poe to pay attention to the development of this skirmish. He manages to avoid certain destruction by spiraling into the heart of the firefight, and this gave him some insight of the battle. With the transports out of the way, the next goal is scuttling. "Alright buddy, priority target on those bombers. We got to take them out before they reach our friendlies." That's the direction Poe heads, increasing his speed and engaging one bomber with decisive hits that leave its shields just at the cusp of shattering. <<"Black Leader here, attacking the bombers. I've hit one hard.. coming about for another pass.">>

Black 5 is buffeted under the concentrated fire of the Zeta designated 3. Beeping and zrrrring over coms, Fiver sets itself to repairing the damage to their shields without a word from the captain. "You're doing fine Fiver."

<Black 5 coming around for Bomber 2, Black Leader on your six> Foils open the T-85 flashes into the attack strafing the second bomber with three solid hits leaving it open to a good lashing for the next fighter that has it in its sites.

Pursue, open fire, be evaded, it might as well be the story of Nova's life at this point. Black Eleven pulls away after another failed attack run. <Mind if I just go draw fire, Lead? At least I won't be in anyone's way.>

"This is all your fault, ya crummy droid! All the time SABOTAGIN' ME!"

Missing once again, the Houk starts to get angry, gradually raising the temperature of the cabin, and causing the lenses of his helmet to start fogging up. If he doesn't get a kill soon, the windows of the ship are probably going to start fogging next.

Merek begins shifting the target computer onto a ship which he takes a strike at with the ion cannons, managing that while he nods a bit. He does settle back a bit with a look to the place.

Black 12 Elrych pulls hard on the yokento avoide a barrage of fire aimed towards him, seeing it coming before the enemy had even thought of firing his cannons. The Jedi keeps the assailent in the back of his mind before going on a run on the N1s they hydrians are using. Linked canons ripp ito his targets shield depriving it of any protection. <<"This ones shields are down!">>

Serving as misericord, Callax steers the ship toward the bombers, picking out the weakest first. "Come here now," he whispers to himself, sighting the bomber and cycling the guns for a closer convergence. As the bomber's gleaming hull is locked in the targeter scope, a smattering of red lances are hurled from the fighter's guns, and Callax puts the ship out of everyone's misery with the salvo. When Babo chimes in victory, Callax merely shakes his head ever so slightly. "Overconfidence is what made me fail before, darling," he murmurs in reply, before calling over the comms. << Red Nine, voided two! >>

Zan comes around but of course the transports are all taken care of. She has a sense there's trouble, and so she jukes her fighter in time to miss the shots that one of the fighters aimed her way. "Your turn will come, buddy." Poe calls for the next set of targets, so Zan selects a target and her a wing takes an attack vector towards <<Black 10 after bomber 4.>> That called, she gets a target opportunity and fires, but the wily bomber dodges, just in time.

Return fire is a real thing and a bothersome thing. Kare moves her ship, rolling Black four out of the way and losing her prime location on the target ahead of her. She tries to get back on target and can't quite get her ship turned about quickly enough. The foils light up and Kare misses with a grumble beneath her breath as none of them hit and she finds her call sign to be a little too accurate. She waggles her wings a little in frustration only to feel her ship light up by that second volley that hits her shields. Rocking her about in her cockpit a moment she tries to keep herself out of further harm's way.

Ektor brings the S3 Y-wing through the first volleys of Zeta-51 cannonfire, with deceptive ease. Firing a few blasts of his own after the last of the unengaged NS-1 Naboo styled bombers in the enemy squadron, he drawls, "Ease as you please, yeah? Nice shooting, Spook-tank, just keep up fire on-" Then the enemy pilots got a good bead on him, and a quartet of laser blasts jolt the craaft, raising an alert of failing shields, "Drek! Drek! I'm awake, my bad, that one was on me." R2-G13 squawks indignantly. "Come on, no need to be rude about it."

The srviving trio of bombers begin evasive maneuvers rather than firing back at the sperior dogifghters of the Resistance, and begin preparing for an escape into hyperspace, while the full strength squadron of Zeta-51 fighters continue swarming their opponents.

Another tail and Poe grunts as cannon fire bypasses his canopy. "Yeah, yeah.. I see em! Hold on.." The bombers were breaking off and there was no need to chase. They got the hint. Poe targets his tail now, giving them something to think about. <"Black leader here, breaking off from the fleeing bombers to engage the remaining fighters!">

"Har har har! This is where I earn my FANCY BOAT!" Zonk hurriedly wipes the fog from his steamed-up space helmet and quicdkly fires off a Very Expensive Torpedo at the retreating enemies.

Perhaps predictably, he misses. But... not by like, a whole lot. Barely missed, really.

"MOTHER OF ALL GREASY DAGBLASTED CRUDDIN' ASSCHABS! I'M NEVER GONNA GRADJIMATE!"

He rips the fogged up helmet from his head, and slams it repeatedly against his own cockpit's window until the droid persuades him that this is not the most effective way to earn the respect of his fellow pilots.

Fiver sounds like an angry tea kettle as it sets to repairing the shields that it had just finished bringing back to one hundred percent. Lintra flips the T-85 head down to their previous orientation letting the Zeta chasing them pass them by only to double back on him but he is wily and zig zags out from under their lasers. <Zeta 3 winged but not down. Reorienting>

Jammer patches up Eleven's shields. Nova's shots are dodged yet again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Merek lines up with another of the ships which is beginning to escape from battle. "Alright," he mentions, while he takes a shot with ions that begin to shimmr along upon the ship while it begins to maneuver along in the space.

There's another dodge moment, in which Zan is startled out of her skin by the incoming fighter, and it's pure piloting reflexes that save her, as she manages to juke her fighter just right to avoid the attack. She decides to turn around, the zippy A wing a tough target so far to keep track of, and aims her laser cannons at oen of the fighters, connecting solidly enough to really rattle the pilot, bringing the shields down significantly. << Z9 has shield damage, going for another pass. >> she reports.

No sooner does Callax comment on the dangers of overconfidence than he finds himself set upon by a pair of the enemy's fighters, blasting away at his ship - and while he manages to pirouette through the first salvo with some truly truly inspired evasive maneuvering, he nearly flies right into the second salvo. "Son of a sea-whore," he mutters, trying to bring the ship around to retaliate, but the found target is a hair too spry for Black Nine's roaring guns. Babo whistles and chirps, which the interface monitor helpfully translates.

"Yes, darling, thank you," Callax mutters back. "I'm glad that the lesson has been learned."

Kare does not give up on her target, pushing the throttle forward to keep the already damaged fighter in her sights. She pulls hard on the stick of her ship and Black Four would likely let out a scream in atmo. Here? Nothing. Space silences all as she whips about and attempts brings the foils to bear. They growl as they flare to life and spit fire to tear down the shields of her target and one slams hard into the hull. <"Damage done. Staying on target."> Time to shake the flies free.

Feeling a need to make up for the brutality of setting forth the immolation of those wayward and lost souls aboard the transport he killed, he's okay with letting the bombers runn and turning into the screen of fighters. One he finds, drifing across and right into his cross-hairs just as he's rocketing towards the skirmish. "Oh, hello." He rockets it, two laser bolts wreaking havoc on the crafts shields but not doing it in just yet. He keeps up the chase.

"Hang on to your turret, Spooky-tank," Ektor advises dryly, before abruptly reversing thrust and wheeling the Y-wing about to threaten the predatory crescent-shaped Zeta-51 that had hammered his shields. The manuever rattles the occupants of the Y-wing *hard*, but gives Ektor a clear shot. The pirate's salvo of cannons is deadly, nearly piercing the shields and impaling the stricken craft, which detonates moments later. Avoiding the retaliatory fire of the downed enemy's wingman, he mutters, <<Zonker- listen, big guy: I appreciate the all-consuming need to blow drek up, but use your guns on the little ones, yeah?>>

The Hydian Marauder has recovered the crippled boarding shuttle and locked tractor beams onto an ionized NS-1 bomber, as the remaining heavy attack craft escape into hyperspace. 11 of Zeta flight remain in the void, the attackers are clearly maneuvering for a withdrawal.

Poe avoids another attack, chuckling at whatever comment BB-8 said. When Poe orients the T-85 to go on the offensive, his cannons begin to pick apart Zeta 2 until the craft detonates from its stern and consumes the entire fighter a second later. <<"Splash one; that guy should've stayed home. Haha.">> Black Leader speeds away from the exploding craft just as the fighter's combustion expands further, spreading slag everywhere. <<"Let's clean em up, Black Squadron!">>

"I don't care what you think, you crummy little FRAMMISTAT! I didn't join the Resistance so I could shoot wimpy little guns at wimpy little tubs! I'm gonna take out THE BIG ONE!"

Ignoring the sage counsel of his astromech droid, Zonk hits the accelerator and heads right at the Corvette, firing off a torpedo as he moves to close the distance between them.

It looks suspiciously like a repeat of his most disastrous simulator performance.

His left eye begins twitching, and his now helmetless face begins to break out into a psychotic grin.

<<"HA HA! DEATH TO HUMAN SCUM!">>

Battle concentration has taken over, Fiver and Lintra are in the zone. <We are going to burn some tail, Black Leader.> Stepping on the throttle, she pulls back the flight yoke to take them high over the battle and then swoop down on Zeta 3. <Black 5, we have a splash on Zeta 3>

Merek keeps shooting up with the turrets, though he doesn't manage anything while he begins to check the weapon, and nods a bit back to Ektor, his attention back on the fight, "Alright, it looks like we're winning."

Jammer struggles with the shield generator. Fixing one of these things without accidentally flipping polarization can get tricky, and he's barely avoided doing just that.

Up front, Nova latches onto the tail of a fighter that's throwing sparks from its main drive, fire several shots... and for a wonder, they aren't dodged! The resulting explosion is somewhat gratifying. <Eleven, splash one... which was barely holding together, anyway,> she coms, staying realistic.

Maybe these Hydians will finally start reading the writing on the wall. Maybe.

Now that the Jedi Ace has the attention of the pilot he had just fired upon, the craft seemed to wake up with movement as Elrych closed distance. The song playing in his cockpit has changed and it's a tense one, practically rflecting the dogfight he's currently having. He lets loose a linked canon blast but it misses by a narrow magine and it isn't long before he himself has to peel off his target and avoid some incoming fire. He makes microadjustments to the engines with each maneuver, spinning the craft and doing some generally wild maneuvers.

Zandra evades any shots her way, some debris from one of the earlier hits, maybe, and then she flies her A wing on an attack vector at the next slimy z wing fighter. << Z10 now has shields damaged, coming around for one more try, >> she calls, her voice calm, keeping herself aware of what's going on. She guides her fighter through the thick of things, and then turns back to aim at z10 again, assuming it's still there to shoot at.

Though he may have missed the last shot, Callax plays the reaper once more whilst dancing effortlessly through new streams of laser fire the movements seem to sharpen his senses all the more as he comes round to target another of the fighters toward the rear of the enemy formations. "No, darling," he murmurs as he looses a fresh salvo of heavy bolts through the night, outright obliterating the hapless vessel. "You don't get to get away. Nobody's getting away tonight, not from me."

At least Babo has the grace to mutter a scold.

Ektor is grinning fiercely as he guides the old Wishbone in a wide, banking pursuit of the more nimble Zeta-51. Correctly anticipating the enemy pilot's next move, his cannons follow up on Zandra's, completing the destruction. To Merek, he drawls, "Of course we're winning, come on! Have you SEEN Black squad, before- oh no. Oh no no no, drek-" Switching comms open, he grouses, <<Zonker, you had BETTER not be trying to ram that thing. No lie, I will rekking kill you if you crater, yeah? Will somebody tell Zonk not to ram the thing?>>

The battle turned away from the Hydian ships sharply and suddenly. In minutes, half the fighter wing was gone, and the remainder are concerned more with escape than vengeance.

As the fighters and Corvette begin to peel away, Poe slows his craft and closes his S-foils. <<"Hydian League ship. Should you return and need another reminder; we'll be waiting. Commander Dameron out.">> Poe chuckles, punching in the coordinates for Naboo to his nav computer. <<"Give them your parting rounds, Black. We're heading back now that our friends have things in order.">>

<<"Oh I'm gonna give 'em a partin' round! I'm gonna give it to 'em right in the aft section, Houk Style!">>

As the ships prepare to flee, Zonk's left eye, the homicidal one, begins twitching so hard that it basically looks like he's winking at the ship in some sort of bastardized code. He presses the buttons with his pudgy purple fingers, and let's fly One Last Torpedo!

"BRAHAHAHAHAHAHA! DEATH TO HUMAN SCUM!"

And this time... it hits. But... doesn't do much.

"WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!!!???? WHAT KINDA CRUMMY BOMBS THEY USIN' IN THIS RINKY DINK OUTFIT! I SHOULDA NEVER LEFT NAR SHADDAA!!!!!!"

The onboard holoprojection gives an entirely different view than from the beginning of the fight. The swarm of Zetas turn tail, "Look at them go, Fiver." Most of Black Squadron has had the sense to pull back and let them go. One tenacious pilot, the newest on the squad and by far the most colorful sends them a goodbye message in the form of a torpedo. Tallie facepalms, her gloved hand making a small thud on her visor.

<Black Leader, this Black 5 forming on your starboard.>

Merek takes another clean shot, but the enemy maneuvers away from it. All the same he does begin to lean back from the targeting computer while he nods to Ektor.

<Maybe next time, you'll take good advice when you get it!> Nova calls after the Hydians, breaking off to form up with Poe and Tallie. <It sure beats taking back a report that you got your tail kicked up between your shoulders, doesn't it?>

A few beeps and boops come from eggsy behind Elrych in the droid socket of Black 12. The Jedi Ace glances down to his targeting computer and notices that they fighters are indeed breaking off. "Yup... looks like they're running away." The Corellian then closes his S-foils and slows down to a more appropriate cruising speed typical of defensive patrols while escourting fleets and convoys. He turns his head to watch Red's torpeado impact against the shields of the Marauder. A sly smirk forms on Elrych's lips, a chucke escaping him. <<"You showed 'em Zonk... About Twenty more of those and they're done for. Keep at it.">> Turning, he forms up with the rest of Black Squadron.

Zan comes around to find the remains of z10, and that brings a laugh to the young pilot. <<Black 10 forming up,>> she says, the good humour obvious in her tone. << Also, I think I need a droid. Just a small one so I don't have to talk to myself. >> That said, the A wing slips into formation, odd those it is, and Zan prepares to take the jump to hyper.

For a moment, Callax almost squeezes the triggers on the yoke as he sights up the last wounded straggler among the departing fighters - almost. Babo's chiding has its effect, though, and rolling his eyes like a grumpy teenager the pilot slips his fingers clear. "Yes, yes," he says to the droid over the local link, "I know, and you're right. Thank you. No murders today, I promise."

He banks the ship, then, and keys comms. << Black Leader, this is Nine. Returning to formation and prepared to depart at your command. >>

<<Sounds like a plan, Pretty Boy,>> Ektor affirms over the comms. In the next breath, after wincing at Zonk's broadcast, he adds to Black Leader, <<And I think I might owe you a drink, no lie.>> R2-G13 continues working on the Y-wing's diminished shields, but it is slow going. Veering back around toward the bulk freighters- who have only just begun to restore function after the damage done by a volley of ion bombs- he cackles at the parting quips offered to the departing *Restoration*. <<Moonbeam, you are savage and it’s great.>>

Signals of gratitude from Celchu 1 are sent to the Resistance flight. This is one system the Resistance remains quite welcome.