Log:Courkrus: Yo Ho Ho

A blockade at Courkrus is run, to get past a pirate picket

OOC Date: May 4, 2023
Location: Courkrus
Participants: Amaia Dara, Siywa Tralos, Zena tane, Terek Rosol, Orin, Evie Kora, Narsai Ordo, Cassia Veris and Hadrix Kora as GM

<<"This is Invidious, Courkrus airspace is under Invids control, turn back now or power down and present your gift and oath of fealty to the captain.">>

The message was broadcast from the old, but no less formidable Imperial Class II Star Destroyer hanging in space over the planet of Courkrus, flanked by the CR-90 Backstab and the Carrack Light Cruiser Red Nova. Courkrus had been under the, effective, dominion of the Invids for almost three weeks and the smaller pirate factions that had made their homes wherever they could land, or hide, nearby had been crushed or absorbed into their fold. A bloated confederation of pirate captains under their new king. If they could remain coherent enough they might even stand to become a recognizable Outer Rim Power.

Fighters were already being routed, and a somewhat impressive collection. Two full squadrons, one of Belbullab short range fighters and one of cloakshapes banking out of BARCAP flights to begin approach on the multitude of craft dropping out of hyperspace. Behind them a half squadron of old Civil War era A-Wings.

<<"Mythoosaur in subspace">> one of those non-pirate craft dropping from lightspeed chimes in over secured comms for those craft moving to break the blockade, <<"Comm-Check. Be ready to hit and run... that Carrack is a squadron killer. We're going to have to bypass the starport city and make for clear ground we can land and hide in concealment.">> the old model Firespray-31 pushing forward, moving to join flight formation with others.

The Helix Interceptor that dropped out of hyper in the wake of the Mythosaur was not unknown, nor its pilot, though they were not immediately visible, being, well, encased in ship armor. But the voice was familiar, as they formed up with the incoming fighters, the tone crisp and clear across the shared ship's comms, <<"This is the Solar Flare, moving to dagger formation.">> No better way to break a line, yes? Mai Dara settled into position, as she saw the force they were up again. It would be fine, surely.

The Darkspace falls out of hyper pretty quickly after the Mythosaur, the Muurian Transport blocky and weird, but speedy enough and full of guns. And torpedoes! <<"Darkspace is present Mythosaur,">> the far too cheery voice of Zena goes over the secure line. <<"Ready to blast some pirates into tiny little pieces!">>

She switches to the intercom of her ship, addressing her bare bones hired crew. "Get to the guns. Be ready to unleash kriffing hell when I say so!" Part of her wants to be down there shooting the guns, but she's the pilot and this is her ship. She grins, green eyes glittering in the dim cockpit as her hands flit over switches, tweak knobs and push some levers before she grabs the control stick and wheels the (frankly) weird looking ship into formation.

Those last few seconds before the ship drops out of hyperspace into what will be a hot zone are always tense. Terek takes a moment to glance over towards the second seat where R2-Z3 has taken up position to act as the Krayt's co-pilot.

The cathar Mandalorian turns his head back around to the cockpit window as the stars suddenly come back into focus and everything comes into view.

<"Dragonslayer checking in."> Comes Terek's voice over comms, as he pushes the throttle forward and sends the gunship forward. On his private comms with his R2, he chimes in, <"Zee get those ion cannons ready. We'll see if we can't disable some of those Carrack's guns as we blast past.">

The droid chirps and beeps in response, going through and prepping the weapon systems for Terek. Zee still thinks they should have gone in the bigger ship.

Soaring out of hyperspace, Orin was flicking on the channel. <<Cold Blooded, checking in. Guns prepped and shields up.>> The Dunelizard-model medium-class fighter was soaring through stardust, warming up the guns as he sat deep in his seat, hands on the controls.

Unlike other ships, he takes a flanking position, ready to turn and burn and soar into the fight. There's a whole lot of pirates out there.

<<Keep count of the kills. Worst score buys drinks.>>

Inside the gyro-stabilized cockpit of the Royal Edict, the Empress sits upon her thrown. Helmet firmly in place as she listens to the message from the pirates. Frowning to herself.

"Evie, have you really been out of the battlefield so long that they think a /King/ outranks an /Empress?/"

The question's rhetorical, and just a snippet of the kinds of things one would normally hear in the cockpit of the B-Wing, if there were anyone else around to listen. Fortunately(?) for them, there is not, just the blue-armored Kuati, her thoughts, and as she flicks the appropriate switch? The music that starts pumping through the internal speakers. They're about to dance. She needs to make sure she knows the tune.

<<"Empress in position... I brought the guns, you paint the target. Ektor, I hope you're out there watching.">>

There's a lot of her former friends that Evie, frankly, doesn't know the status of after the incident at Chandrila and the massacres that followed. She's been pretty much a recluse for a lot of it. Working on her Top Secret Project away from prying eyes of corporate -- or military -- competitors.

The next shape to come out of the black in the surge of hyperspace activated cut a unique profile. The Thunderheart had fought plenty of battles and indeed ran more blockades than one could count since the woman who sat at the controls had got it skyward bound when she was but a teenager.

The craft dancing through the void into formation there was a quick flick of her comlink. "Tayli, Kar, be ready on those turrets, you're covering our rear while we push through." She instructs her eldest and one of the twin girls before looking to the other beside her. "Tep, follow my lead and watch the sensors. We got this."

With that offered there's a flick of her commlink. <<"Thunderheart here, thought we'd stretch our legs a little. Ready to get this done.">>

All stark white hair and white skin, Dr. Cassia Veris's rushing into the cockpit of the /FRT Down and Out/, icy blue eyes locked on the ship's controls -- the flashing hyperspace proximity alert, the orange-skinned Togruta's hand going for the lever to revert them to real space. She managed to reach out and grab one of the hand-holds on the boldhead just before the ship lurched, a tightly closed fist meaning she only took a half-step forward.

"You /do/ understand that I'm a doctor, not a DJ, don't you?"

With the distant stars pinpricks of light instead of streaks, Cassia slipped the rest of the way into the co-pilot's seat and threw the seatbelts over her shoulders.

"I'm /also/ not a fighter pilot. What in the five realms are we /doing/? I swear, I take /one/ nap..."

Of course, that didn't stop her from leaning over once she was strapped in and queuing up the intercom-wide music.

<<"We're just punching a hole, the real prize is on the surface, Empress.">> Hadrix's rumbling growl on comms as the Mythosaur slips into dagger formation with the Solar Flare, gimble mounted cannons flipping into position near the pointed base of the ship, a quintet of cannons all rotating to center their firing lines.

The pirate cruisers hang back, the CR-90 maneuvering beneath, an effective shield for the Star Destroyer's launch bay and the Carrack begins to push towards the nose of the dagger shaped cruiser.

<<"You've had your warning, prepare to be scrapped.">> the voice on broadband sneers and the fighters forming up begin goosing their engines to full speed, barreling towards the blockade runners with a series of hoots and cat-calls over broadbands mixing with the jeering phrases in a variety of languages.

The Belbullabs pull ahead, with the A-Wings starting to gain behind them, three-barrel blaster cannons beginning to spin up and sensors giving a multitude of warnings of combat tracking systems trying to get laser lock.

<<"Advancing to engage the fighters.">> The Solar Flame's pilot did not bother trying to send back a quippy reply. That was not her way. Not when she was in the cockpit at least. On the ground, certainly, be prepared for her to question why she was on the ground, but not here. Here, this was where the Daras had been born and bred, and the ship advanced, trusting to its shields as its heavy cannons fired, streaks of light flaring as they passed over and through the incoming ships. A warning shot across the bow or just bad luck, who could say? Mai, certainly, but she didn't have her suit comms on.

"I know, dear." Siywa is falling into position in the dagger formation, without glancing back at the doctor seated in the copilot seat behind her. "I would absolutely turn on the music myself, but..." There's a squadron of Belbullabs headed towards them and the Down and Out is breaking to follow Amaia in towards their lead, <<"I'm with you Solar Flare.">> Following with a twist of her control yolk, her left hand dips over to grab the firing controls of her linked laser-ion cannons. A short targetting beep and she lets loose a short clip of peppering beams across the leader fighters shields. The blue aura flahses, <<"Shields are nearly out on Pirate Bulb.">> Her crystal blue eyes flick across readings on her holo-vid feeding tactical data.

Turning end over to fall in with Mai. "Remind me to hire some crew when we're on Nar Shaddaa next?" She adds more things to her extensive list of to-dos. "It'd be nice if those big guns weren't purely decorative, like silent letters."

The Littlest Mando is grinning like a maniac as she runs her hands across controls and manages the flight stick. "Suck on some of this, you pirate bastard!"

Of course, her being her, she tries to get a little showy with it. She wheels the Darkspace up, spinning it in a stationary roll in formation, making her upside down in relative space to the rest of the blockade runners. She hammers on the trigger for the laser cannons, crimson blaster bolts ripping out through the sea of stars.

And ripping.

And ripping.

Into infinity.

"Son of a Nerf Herder!"

The M-22 sails forward, pulling into the dagger formation and getting the lasers online, <"This is gonna get bumpy, Zee. Better hold on tight."> Terek grips the stick, and lines up a shot as he watches the Bulb take a shot, firing at the lead pirate ship.

The heavy lasers lance out and fire off into the darkness of space, <"Drek."> Terek mutters under his breath, shifting the ship back into formation and preparing to get evasive.

<<Engaging!>>

The Dunelizard designated 'Cold Blooded' sails forward with all the hatred of a dying star. Red bolts of energy fire off from the tip of Orin's fightercraft towards the head ace, though he fails to strike it.

"Little shit..."

Orin's cursing does nothing to assist him, but he's quickly attempting to maneuver. <<Check that six!>>

<<"Taking away all my fun, Mythosaur.">> Evie chides playfully from within the B-Wing. Was she crazy enough to go up against a Star Destroyer in a B-Wing? No, of course not.

Would she let a challenge go unmet, though? /Also/ of course not. That's just not Evie's way. So when the enemy pilots call out determined to bring an end to her merry band of misfits? Of course she's going to return fire. It's a good shot. A shot that would've nailed a lot of foes.

Just not this time, as the fighter dodgers out of the way.

<<"Not bad, kid. If you survive this encounter, there might be a job waiting for you.">>

These aren't the prize, though. There's a bigger fish to fry, and she's got to start getting her target lock ready for that one.

Into the fight they go! The Thunderheart dancing through the sky at the hands of Narsai who grinned as the craft made the charge at the call of punching a hole. "Alright, lets help clear the path..." she speaks, mostly to herself before the bright flares of the laser cannons atop and below the craft come to life, hammering a target.

Cassia sighs, throwing those belts off of her shoulders. "I'm on it!" she shouts, already getting back to her feet again and running back to the middle of the ship. It takes only a couple of moments for her to cross the distance and climb the ladder, swinging herself into the turret gunner's seat.

"For the record," she says into the intercom, "/if/ I hit anything, this doesn't break any oaths because I'm doing it to save your life!"

She swivels in the chair with a sudden squeak of surprise, and the quad cannon shoots into the blackness of space.

The opening volley of the head-to-head is chaos. Cannon fire in viridian, ruby and searing azure fill space between the groups in a firestorm of coherent light and focused plasma. The sleek, some might say classic, shapes of the Old Republic fighters bobbing as though on water and then heeling over when their triple cannons begin lancing fire.

They're quite clearly trained fighter pilots, or experienced at the very least. Most pirate groups barely have decent shields - so like the TIE pilots of old, the ones who were around for more than three engagements were arguably gifted, natural, talents. The big ships continue to hang back, letting things play out and a chorus of angry calls go out on comms. Mythosaur burns through the explosion that used to be Number-3 in the Belullab formation, all five cannons spitting in seemingly random sequence to try successfully box the target in.

<<"Don't get bogged down, keep pushing, there's a...">> Hadrix's voice stops, and there are grunts as from someone hearing others bicker, <<"Stormclouds over the southern continent, we can slip sensors...">> one of the chasing fighters opening fire to stitch laser tracks across the Firespray's shields.

The A-Wings begin to near, overpowered, oversized, engines throwing out enough jetwash that they give off significant heat registers even in the ice of space.

Mai Dara understood that combat in space was not always a race. She also understood that they were in a race...to get to the surface. So, those two understandings warred in her thoughts as she continued in formation, keeping a fix on the lead fighter, ignoring, for the moment, the A-wings coming up behind those. This time, she did not miss, though there was less damage than she would have liked, <<"Hit on fighter lead. Shields appear down.">> Inside the helix, the LE droid did not need to be told what to do. Someone had damaged his ship. He got to work fixing it.

"That'a girl." Siywa says, hearing Cassia hoist out to head for one of the pair of turrets. She flips to open internal comms, "Not for nothing, but so long as you're palling around with me, it's more a hypothetical oath." She teases. The fighter ace, however, thinks he wants a slice. "Okay big guy, you want some?" One hand on her controls, she throttles the sublights back, hits the forward thrusters, and flips the YT over on its axis, flipping it out of the way of the incoming beams lancing across the black towards her.

End over end, the Down and Out rolls. She tucks her head down and tilts to peer out of the dommed canopy as the two ships pass, winking down at him. Maybe he saw it, maybe not? Seriously, she's just playing with her food.

"Hold onto your lunch, I'm about to do something stupid." Which is different from every other time she's ever done anything, how? Sublights kick back on with a twist, while aft and starboard thrusters burst to drop her into a pocket behind the old Republic era fighters flashing past in her wash.

She reaches out and flips a switch on her weapons display, keys up chaff launchers and releases a whole screen of flashing targeting scramblers, <<"Chaff field on my signal, ride up ahead of me and I'll screen you while you handle repairs.">>

Zena is having a Very Bad Time. She can't hit the side of an ISD, and to top that off, the damn pirates are chewing up her ship! It's where she lives! It's how she makes money! Those jerks! The string of swears that burn through her mouth are virulent, violent and just plain not nice.

Luckily for her, the Down and Out blasts out a chaff field. "Oh, thank the Force," she mutters to herself. <<"Coming in, they hit me really good,">> she says over the secure channel, alarms blaring in the background.

She rolls the wounded transport into the chaff field, leaping out of her seat and grabbing her toolkit. "Kriffing pirates. Ugh." She sets to work, hotswapping wires and rerouting power back to the shields. She still sticks in the chaff as she slips back into her seat, buckling in.

The Krayt gets rocked hard by a blast, the whole ship shuddering as the shields drop. The Dragonslayer maneuvers in order to avoid taking too much more damage, spotting the lead ship again and angling his ship.

The gunship rattles off with all of its ion cannons first, striking the ship and sending it into a lazy spin as it shuts down. Terek attempts to hit it with the big guns, but the spin is just fast enough that he misses.

<"Zee lock that shield down, we can't afford to take too many more hits like that."> The droid blips, and starts working on getting the shields back up and running as Terek maneuvers back into formation.

Lifting on the wheel and pushing the throttle forward, Orin burns stardust as the Cold Blooded soars through the dark heavens, firing off those laser cannons and pinging off one of the support fighter's shields. <<Warm or cold, you pick.>> He growls.

He notices the Krayt is taking some hits and he moves to cover the flank. <<Krayt, Cold Blooded checking in. I have your flank. Keep rattling those ion cannons!>>

The speeding and sweeping shape that was the Thunderheart gave chase, pushing to the objective behind the Mythosaur's command with the vigor for combat that one might expect from a vessel captained by an Alor of the Ordo clan. As the two teens manning the turrets blast the pirate vessel that had engaged them to dust the woman gave a little smile of quiet pride before she spins the vessel towards the besieged Zena. She'd help out how she can, but...a little less defensively than the brilliant chaff screening.

<<Hold on, we've got your back. Come shoot at the shiny ship you->> she begins, the close of the comlink self-censoring her.

<<"Hang in there, Darkspace,">> comes the Empress' Kuati drawl over the comms, <<"I'll see what I can do to keep these boys off of you while you make some repairs. Not leaving anyone behind tonight.">>

While her combat training suggests, you know, go in for the kill on the wounded targets, eliminate some of the OpFor...

Her combat /teachings/ say the opposite. Keep their side as alive as possible. The more guns are shooting, the more shots are landing, so everyone counts. Which is why rather than firing more shots, she's weaving the Royal Edict around the Down And Out in hopes of making it harder to hit the other ship, her movements on the yoke automatic while her other hand attends to fixing some of the damage to her shields.

The RZA Interceptors joining the mix only serve to complicate things, more lightly armed but distinctly harder to hit as they start to harry the invading fighters. The orb of Courkrus looming larger and the Carrack class shifting its angle, trying to prepare for a quite literal firewall as the rag-tag collection of fighters and freighters near.

<<"Good work, Down and Out. Flight, be ready to push to full speed. Angle on this signal.">> Controls tapped and HUD info blink-selected from his helmet to send coordinates to the rest of the invaders. <<"We need at least four to keep firing, play rear guard and keep our gap open. Doesn't mean it has to only be four of this.">> Hadrix's hands are moving like crazy over his controls, only switching to the flight stick when a trio of fighters take after him, spinning the heavily modified pursuit fighter into a corkscrew. Below, mag-locked into his droid cubicle Heiyuu is screaming at the suspended pilot and Gripper is being shaken from where her CMD interface has her connected to the ship... saying unkind things in galactic basic.

<<"This is your last warning. Power down. If you get past, we'll hunt you and see how much you're worth once we catch you.">>

Invidious sends out another transmission, the massive Destroyer hanging confidently without a worry for the forces trying to move past the fighter screen. The Red Nova though, its turrets begin to swivel and sensors give a fire warning. The Belbullabs and A-Wings continue to come about, trying to overwhelm the invaders and the cloakshapes are starting to near as well.

There were days when one could forget that there had been a time when Arakyd had been banned from the production of the helix interceptors. An 'armed freighter' which could sub in for a fighter had not boded well for the old empire. This was not one of those days, as Mai Dara blazed into battle, ignoring the calls to cease and desist. They were nearly to the entry point, but they were not there yet. <<"I'll stay behind to clear the way. Proceed to the rendezvous point.">> The Helix winged away, falling back to play chicken with two of the incoming bulb fighters. <<"Splash One.">>, she called, as one of the fighters exploded, raining debris down on the hull of her ship. Something which LE liberally berated her for, <<"Another down shields.">>

The Chaff screen was a great idea and it's paying off, that much is quite obvious by the sheer volume of lancing beams cutting through the black of flickering, sensor disrupting, space and not hitting any of the blockade runners. "Okay, I honest to God didn't think that was gonna work." She laments with a grin, really rather proud of herself.

Now, however, there was the business of not getting her own ship powerwashed by a bucket load of linked beams cutting through space towards her with laser precision. It was, legitimately, an amazing shot. By all rights she should have taken every single one of them across the bow.

If she were a lesser pilot.

"Oh, look't you cutie patooties." The DnO barrels forward out of the chaff field, control twisting as the ship arcs to starboard and fires thrusters to spin further. Cutting around in the void of space like a frisbie until she reengagings the thrusters.

Suddenly A-Wings, "Eeeeee..." She hisses through clenched teeth. The freighter was not designed for dog-fighting. Someone should probably tell Siywa that though because she's definitely out here clowning these pilots. Alternating power between her burst firing landing thrusters and sublights in a way that the ship just wasn't designed for. Yet here she is doing it. Leave it to a Corellian... in a Corellian ship... to defy everything anyone expects from a space faring battle-tank, amirite?

<<"Darkspace, you've got torpedos on that boat, right? Because I have a brilliant idea that cannot possibly go wrong at all.">> Says the Corellian accented smuggler, <<"I used it a few years ago when a particularly aggressive sector security defense fleet got all uppity about a few days expired transportation papers. What I want you to do is, set one of those boat bombs on a timed fuse and launch it blind behind us, right into my chaff field.. they'll fly through chasing us towards those storm clouds.. I can give you a play by play of what happens next, but the point is they wont even see the gorram thing until it's blowing their nacelles through their o-ring.">> 

<<"I call it a Dirty Danoba and a Happy Ending.">>

The Togruta triggers ship broad comms, <<"Hey pal, adults are talking over here, huh? You mind keeping it down while we paddle your fighters like irrate children?">>

<<"Can you believe the cheek on these guys?">>

Anyways, <<"Alright, Darkspace, launch on my mark then follow me in tight as you can.">>

Chaff launches from the back of the DnO woop woop woop as Siywa full shifts powers from weapons to her engines and takes off like a rampaging bantha towards the rolling storm front.

Repairing mid fight is not a fantastic idea. Sometimes necessary, but it's never good. "If you stay in one piece, I promise not to say bad things about your boxy ass anymore," she mutters to her ship, reacclimating to the controls and dropping her spanner to the floor. Fingers flicker over angry controls. Her hull is wrecked, her shields are flickering, but she's still in one piece. Evie and the chaff saved her butt. <<"Thanks for the backup, Empress,">> she says, still following in the chaff field.

Her smile returns at Siywa's idea. Big and gleeful. <<"That is a great kriffing idea, Down and Out. On it.">> She lags behind just a touch, fingers dancing on the console as she pulls up the torpedo controls and sets a timer. With another button push, she just ejects the projectile, not even firing it out into the void. The armed and live torpedo floats in the chaff as the Mando flares her engines and emerges from the cloud. For once, she hopes someone is dumb enough to follow her.

Actually, she always hopes someone is dumb enough to follow her.

When the call goes out for volunteers to play rear guard, Terek immediately grins under his helmet, <"This is Dragonslayer, pulling back to rear guard."> He calls over comms, pulling back on the stick and turning his ship around.

Bringing the nose around, he spots an A-Wing, <"Zee is that the guy that shot us earlier?"> He asks the droid, who beeps in confirmation. Terek grunts faintly, <"I hate leaving business unfinished."> He squeezes trigger for the ion cannons, and when the shots strike and he watches the A-Wing drift, he can see from the range that the Nikto pilot is rapidly trying to get his ship back online.

<"Zee get a lock on him with the launcher."> The droid is able to lock onto the ionized A-Wing easily enough, as Terek pulls the ship around and releases the missile which fails to ignite and starts to drift lazily in space.

<"Dank ferrik!"> Terek starts bringing the ship back around to try to get a shot with his cannons when out of the view window the missile ignites and rockets towards the A-Wing.

In the cockpit of the interceptor, the Nikto pilot has finally gotten the ship back online, cheering out in success before he looks upwards, spotting the missile streaking towards him for approximately half a second before the high explosive warhead slams directly into the cockpit and detonates.

Well, they wanted attention! The shots rock against the Thunderheart's shields, bringing flares of light and energy as Narsai wasn't quite able to avoid all the fire in the melee of it all.

"Mom," Tep speaks, the twin not currently blasting away at the turrets and instead occupying the co-pilot seat beside her. "Shields took a hit, but holding above 50% for now," she offers, earning a nod from Narsai who gestures to the console.

"Divert power, keep us solid and we'll bring them close," the redhead woman offers before turning her attention to her the Mandalorian teens unleashing some pain from the laser turrets. "Kar, Tayli. We've got their attention, I need you to-!" she begins to yell only for the explosion of the hostile who hit them and the audible whoop of joy from her other daughter to cut her off with a laugh. Once she'd been the young hotshot Mandopilot. Now, she was having 'proud parent' day instead!

<<"Right. Empress falling back; I told you I brought the guns, no sense in not shooting them.">>

Evie takes a breath, and starts the 'blades' of her craft into a wild spin. The variety of weapons that are attached to the craft moving in concert as the pilot works furiously to try and get a target lock and unleash a true maelstrom of firepower on the opposing forces... but they're too good. Too nimble.

It's frustrating.

So Evie closes her eyes. She closes her eyes and pulls the trigger. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Shot after shot of ions flying wildly through the void in an effort to shut down as many of the enemy fighters as she can...

...the pilot's version of the Force, however, is not with her in the ways that it usually was. Maybe because she's been hanging around with Jedis who use the /real/ Force, so /her/ Force is not pleased with her. She forces a scattering, but not with the level of foe-removing as she'd hoped for.

<<I've got you in my sights.>>

That Dunelizard fighter comes down in a sweeping arc around the Krayt as his thumb pushes onto the triggers, letting those bolts rap against an A-wing's shield and badly damaging it, but somehow that craft is spaceworthy! 

<<That little...Coming around!>> And he sweeps back around, weapons pewing!

<<"That's my girl.">> rumbled over comms when the sight of the Heart's turret tracking and ripping apart one of the fighters. The combined effort of those who hung back to strike punching the hole widen enough for those pulling ahead to become the focus of the Carrack Red Nova, whose job was 'close the door.'

Speed and shield power on their side, the old anti-fighter cruiser hammers away, the sheer volume of turret fire illuminating many hulls emerald event at a distance. The weight of fire enough that while the strikes won't reach the ground they still cause enough heat in the upper atmosphere that the storm clouds begin to swirl. Electricity crackles across the stormy surface and the first of the blockade runners break atmosphere, shields glowing and some wavering as they repel the entry friction.

Aboard the Star Destroyer bridge, a brutish Dashade slams his fist against an arm rest of a very non-standard captain's chair at the head of the command walk. "GET AFTER THEM! SCRAMBLE THE FIGHTERS AND CHASE THEM DOWN!" standing up and snarling at bridge crew who begin shouting orders into comm systems

The Red Nova's attention having been drawing away from the rear-guard, its turret crews are slow to swing their weapons around and the rear fighters pass through the maelstrom, the pursuing fighters forced to pull back and away, less they risk being eradicated by their own friendly cruiser.

Past the atmosphere and on the way to the surface, with pirate dropships scrambling to launch. To try and catch them.

Siywa glances up and back, brow creasing up against her forehead plate. Her montrels wrap around the front of her chest, with the back tail curling into the gap in beneath the headrest because drek bout to get real as the DnO breaks out of the minefield of chaff/torpedoes to break towards the planets surface. "Well, like my dad always says.. if you can't do something smart, do something right."

Altruism never paid the bills

So even she's surprised when she angles her ship towards the Carrack looming large and dangerous... with all those gorram guns.. A long, whistling, sigh precedes, "Whatchu got, big guy?" Reaching out to fully shift power from her weapons systems directly into the engine cores. A whine as the thrusters charge with and send her leaping forward with a flash of power bleeding out of the rear ports. The DnO rockets forward through a hail of point defense weapons errupting from the side of the Carrack.

It draws fire onto the faster moving blockade runners breaking atmosphere, letting the rear guard follow them almost entirely unmolested. Once safely in the boiling stormclouds, she grins to herself and runs a hand along the front console. "Okay... now we just need to get back off world without dying. Love it, happy to be here."

The Darkspace bursts out of the chaff, a good whack on the console plus some more violent swearing, this time in Shyriiwook somehow makes her shields go from 'Well, they're on' to 'Pretty good!' The tiniest Mando grins, checking her sensors as she blasts forward, keeping pace with the Down and Out. <<"Here's hoping this works!">>

Behind her, the torpedoes tick down, the timed detonations counting away for a handful of seconds. Wait for it.

Wait for it.

The explosion of the makeshift mines is terrible, brutal in its silence in space. Chaff and debris is hurled in a wide area, disrupting pursuit of the rag-tag bunch of freighters and fighters as they now punch into the atmosphere.

Well, after a pit stop by Turbolasers, anyway. Zena grabs the control stick and hurls the Darkspace into a sharp roll, spiraling past two furious blasts from the big ship. She rights the transport, and wrenches on the stick, flicking switches with her other hand and making it twist midflight, swinging the back end out wide and using the landing thrusters to .... drift.

The transport drifts sideways past another raging burst of fire only for the pilot to swing the back end back straight. Zena moves to wheel the Darkspace again when she takes a hit, nearly dropping her shields to nothing. Swearing some more, she cranks her speed to full, blasting through space towards atmo, twitching a little to her left as yet another blast skims by her by a meter.

"This better be worth it!"