Log:Mynocks In A Barrel

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Mynocks In A Barrel

OOC Date: June 15, 2018
Location: Bothan System
Participants: Gren Delede, Ektor-Xer Apollyon, Jessika Pava, Dawn Antilles, Jaya Kassis, David Ironside, The Resistance

Both is a system that has plenty of traffic, though the current deployment of the Resistance fleet is well away from the civilian shipping lanes. The mission objective, as the pilots and naval officers have been briefed, is simple enough. A number of satellites situated around the Both system have been identified as potential spy satellites that could alert the First Order to the Resistance presence. The Renegade and her task force will be destroying these satellites. The trio of Renegade, Sacrifice, and the carrier Flurry make up an arrowhead that burns through the void toward the first target. It is small freighter sized electronic device, quite close, but not visible to the naked eye. A collection of laser and turbolaser mines scattered about it provide immediate fire support, if required.

Snug in the cockpit of Renegade Leader, Gren's starfighter is first in the chute to launch, once the assault begins. The Admiral has apparently decided to join this potential combat, rather more directly. <<Renegade, I've got time to engagement at turbolaser range at 30 seconds. Launch strike fighters in 5. Strike package pilots, check in. Sacrifice, Flurry prepare to open fire.>> He tightens his left hand on the control stick, and tenses for the incoming jolt of launch, as responses begin to crackle over his comm. Away the E-wing goes, burning out of Renegade at its rather high top speed.

---

As ever, Green 2 is among the first fighters to launch. The Y-wing needs as much of a headstart as it can get, after all. <<Green Two, in the black and on approach,>> Ektor drawls lazily, checking his targeting computer fore the range to target. The soothing whisper of the ion engines a counterpoint to the looming conflict.

---

Waiting for the slower ships to launch, one of Red Squadron's X-Wings launches shortly after in a seat-bracing lurch from the quad thrusters that engage. In cruising mode, it takes nothing to catch up to the other two ahead of her, but rather than take the lead with her speed, Jessika adjusts it to maintain a parallel vector that's on the outer flank, ready to play intercept in the event that enemy fighters are dispatched to try and stop them from reaching the orbital platforms they need to get rid of if they want to stay hidden in system for longer. How much time this is going to buy, Jessika doesn't know, but she's focused and ready, nestled as she is into the cocoon of harnesses and the cockpit of her snubfighter. <<Red Two is in position for intercept and attack.>>

---

Situated in the bridge of the Sacrifice in her dark uniform is Lt. Dawn Antilles in what amounts to be her first command. The finer points of the briefing have been memorized by her, forwards and backwards, and before their launch, she has reviewed her strike plan for the dozenth time. She knows it like the back of her hand at this rate, though she is bracing herself for complications - there is only /one/ constant with every plan, no matter how thorough it is and it is the first lesson every tactician learns upon her first engagement.

This is hardly her first sortie in a ship like the Sacrifice, but it feels like it. There is an exhilarating familiarity being on a bridge, her fingers absently brushing over the switches in the control console in front of her.

"All ahead full," she says, taking a few steps to the front; she can hardly sit in a moment like this. Her hands are tucked in the pockets of her uniform jacket, the uniform cap replaced by a beret of like colors - she had something similar back in her time with the New Republic's navy, and it felt wrong not to have it now. "I want periodic updates on how our squadrons are doing and an environs report in five minutes. In ten, I want firing solutions on the second satellite we have to target."

The crew on the Sacrifice bellow their affirmation in one voice, before bodies start scrambling again.

---

As the fleet nears the satellites, the automated defensive laser minefield open fire on the approaching capital ships. Six of the many mines appear to be warhead launchers, while the majority are lighter laser cannons, more suitable to fighting starfighters. It is a sheet of green fire that erupts from the darkness of space. Renegade's shields are weakened, and her hull scorched by incoming, and exploding warheads. On her bridge, orders are shouted, and the turbolasers and laser cannons begin to fire. The first volley goes wide, but a moment later, her gunners have corrected. Heavy turbolasers slam into the spy satellite, ripping into it's shields. The generators are particularly strong, and while the defensive bubbles fails, there is plenty of hull to go around.

Renegade Leader's engines burn brightly, and the E-wing's pilot is surprised as an early laser blasts punches through his shields, and scores a long burn down the side of his not oft-used snubfighter. <<Focus on the missile mines, before they hole Renegade, pilots.>> He follows suit, settling his crosshairs over the nearest, and pressing down on the firing stud. A triple burst of heavy laser cannon fire sheds the target, and with a quick stomp on the port rudder, Gren is able to slew his fast, but damaged fighter around to pump another burst into a second launcher, causing it to go poof with its small power plant lighting up the vacuum.

---

Ektor guides Green 2 on approach, noting lightly aloud, "Tenner, shields double front until we pass the first line, yeah? Coming into range..... now." He opens up with the forward cannons annihilating one warhead mine, and nearly junking a second, before juking the light bomber in a short spiral intended to weave between AI firing solutions. "Easy as you-" his shields take a hard hit, rocking the craft. "Drek, this is a new pattern." <<One warhead spitter down, second still has some teeth.>>

---

Like pinpricks of starlight, the fire from the incoming defenses looks like a whole new nebula before turning into bright green lances streaking past. The Rear Admiral calls out tactical targets and a simple flick of the switch on Jessika's controls split her s-foils into an attack position, leaving the quad Taim & Bak KX9 laser cannons ready to go to work. Rolling to port, Jessika sweeps her snubfighter into a lower position beneath the Z axis of Renegade Leader and Green Two, allowing her targeting reticle to line up with incoming missile mines at an angle that leaves their own fighters out of her targeting computer's firing solution. Gloved hand on the yolk, Jessika guides her X-Wing with veteran precision to line up her shots. She squeezes rather than yanks.

The superheated tibanna gas spitting from the cannons bisects two of the missile mines and light flashes dimmed naturally by the visor of her Tierfon Yellow Aces helmet keeps it from impacting her vision. Jessika adjusts the angle so she doesn't rise up into the Renegade's line of sight and adjusts her vector to set up another run on the ordinance threatening the lives of the Resistance frigates crew members. Silent as she works, Jessika's head is on the swivel to ensure that her instruments are not the only thing keeping an eye out for any dangers relevant to their operation.

---

"Firing solutions ready, Lieutenant!"

"Confirmed!" Dawn says, her heart leaping against her ribcage. "FIRE!"

The gunnery stations go active. Officers acquire the target and send several blasts towards the satellite's direction. Light cuts through the darkness as those eyes follow, waiting for the telltale signs of impact from a distance.

"Direct hit, Lieutenant!"

"Secondary solutions confirmed!" the younger Antilles commands. "FIRE!"

More streaks of light fill her screen, the black outside awash in color. Battles in space, in her experience, have been equal parts beautiful and terrifying. And at the second barrage of battery fire, the first satellite explodes, debris scattering in the dead of space amidst the triumphant cries of those on the bridge with her. It is inevitably cut short by dire news from those on the comm.

"The Renegade is in trouble, Lieutenant!" reports one of the bridge officers aboard the Sacrifice.

She turns back to the rest of her crew. "Pilots, let's start moving the Sacrifice to these coordinates." She marks them on the map. "We need to be in the position to assist the Renegade as necessary, even if we need to use our own shields to do it. If we can help it, we can't lose a single ship."

The Sacrifice starts to move, if not but to fulfill the destiny it has been christened with. The length of the ship angles towards the firing path of the warhead launchers, the sight of which sets her teeth on edge.

"Watch those shields," she calls out. "And brace for impact!"

---

The Z-95 Headhunter carrying Red 5 was the last from the chute and bringing up tail end charlie. Jaya, sitting firmly back against her seat, was working the appropriate controls to match the speed of her team and remain in the proper formation, just like she'd been training. Just for situational awareness, she checked in as ordered, <<This is Red 5, standing by.>> A firm jerk of her head sends the visor down, locking it in position just as her targeting analysis begins to display with all its appropriate tracking read outs. When given the order to begin intercepting the missle mines, she adjusts her position in the formation to angle higher above the others for a clear trajectory of fire with more liberal lateral limits. With some elbow room now, Jaya flexes her hand a bit before placing her finger above the firing stud just before engaging! The brief engagements from her ordnance illuminate her in the cockpit, but nothing quite as bright as the last mine she took out in the initial pass. She adjusts course, her head on a swivel and looking for additional targets.

---

Renegade's shields begin to strengthen, but the Assault Frigate took a surprisingly hard hit from that first warhead volley, and they are not returned to full strength. Flurry takes up position in the rear of the formation.

"Help me out with these shields, Bait." Gren's gloved right hand flies over his console, as he begins moving power around in tandem with his droid, using his left to guide the snubfighter through the mess of incoming laser fire from the remaining AI mines protecting a slagged spy satellite. <<All vessels, move to engage the Beta target, maintain current formati-->> His voice cuts off, as messages are transmitted to all the vessels from Renegade's sensor officer. There are two clusters of starfighter sized blips approaching at high speed from one of the moons of Both. It is unlikely that they are friendly. <<Capitals, continue on course. Starfighters, form up. We're intercepting our new friends. Flank speed. Renegade launch remaining alert fighters.>> In a few moments, the remains of Red Squadron, and the two A-wings of Blue Squadron will be launching in sequence. The E-wing's pilot is pressed into his seat as he pushes the throttle to max, and banks toward the incoming starfighters.

---

Ektor weaves the old warhorse through cannon fire thick enough that Green 2 seems destined to take another hit before shields can be restored. But a combination of luck, skill, and a capable but long-suffering R2-T10 restore the shields and see the light bomber almost inexplicably emerge unscathed. << I hear you, Renegade Leader, Green Two on your wing, and I promise, this is as fast as she gets.>> As they vector away from the short range minefield, Ektor's gunner takes a long range potshot at the fading mines and manages to tag one with a blue crackle of ionization. Ektor mutters, "Yanno, it's depressing, but that already makes you my third best gunner."

---

<<Red Five, Red Two. Form up on my wing.>> Jessika's hand reaches out to close her s-foils, giving her snubfighter a more slim profile to try and make it harder for the incoming fire from the laser mines. It's a technique that works, because as she veers off to line up on the incoming defense fighters, none of the fire peppering the black of space find her. <<Stay frosty, Five.>> It'll take the rest of Red Squadron a moment to catch up with them, which means they're in the vanguard formation that'll hit the enemy first. <<Remember to keep an eye out for Green Two if he takes too much heat.>> She keeps their communications limited to their squadron channel, leaving important intel and tactical callouts from the wider network uninterrupted by the minute chatter.

---

"Roger, sir," Dawn's confirmation filters through the speakers of Gren's communications array.

The Sacrifice continues to move in formation with the other capital ships, moving on that same charted course to plant itself in the best position to defend the injured Renegade if necessary. Taking the breather while she can while they jump targets, Dawn patches into engineering. "Status on the shields?"

"We're going to need a few more minutes, Lieutenant!"

"ASAP, sergeant. I'll try to buy you the time, but our defenses need to be up before we engage the next target."

"Aye, aye, Lieutenant!"

---

Red 5 returns to her original position, completing the formation as ordered. Trailing back just a bit, Jaya ensures she has the room to drop or rise when they've intercepted the fighters quickly closing in on them. However, the plan changed as her squadron XO spoke up, telling her to take a position on her wing. <<Roger Red 2, on your wing now.>> Jaya had adjusted course accordingly and was now focused on the fight to come.

---

Blue Squadron's A-wings do not the join the starfighter interception mission. They have been tasked with intercepting missiles targeting the fleet, and putting down the warhead launchers. Captains Wexley and Nunb fail in this endeavor.

---

The incoming hostile Bothan fighters are not state of the art. They aren't even military surplus. They're civilian grade R41s and Preybirds. There are 24 of them, though. They outnumber the intercepting Resistance starfighters heavily, and their firepower fills the void, reaching out to try and touch the assorted insurgent ships. They are clearly on course for an attack run on the Renegade Battle Group, but they've got to make it through the fighter screen first.

<<Tally-ho, pilots.>> Gren's voice is calm over the distorted comm, and the E-wing twists and rolls, avoiding the fire heading toward the spear that he happens to be at the tip of. His first burst of triple cannon fire streaks past the lead R41 at close range, but the second tears through the hull of his target, and sends its component parts shattering in various directions. And then he's tearing through the formation, avoiding slamming into the heavy Preybirds at the back.

Renegade herself, has opened fire on the second satellite. A collection of defensive mines much like the first return this fire and another volley of warheads slams into her shields, and punches into her armor plating. The damage does not appear to be serious, but there is the telltale signs of streaming atmosphere. She has a hull breach on the dorsal fore portion of her superstructure. Her own weapons bark out, returning fire. The waves of turbolaser fire impact the target, scraping away layers of shielding and punching holes of its own in the unmanned spy satellite. Flurry's much lesser volume of fire joins in, though with less effect.

---

"Well, I found where the rest of the R-41s in the galaxy are being kept," Ektor drawls sardonically, as the targeting computers register two full squadrons incoming. "We're pulling fire, so this is gonna get hot. All cannons live, let's clear the black a bit, yeah" Sure enough, the incoming torrent of laser fire rains down heavily on the Y-wing's forward shields, blasting through and scoring the oft-abused armor plating. "My turn," the Tionese pilot mutters, following Gren through the storm, and screaming straight at the formation of heavy Preybirds. The onslaught Green 2's cannons rip through the shields and cockpits of two heavy fighters in succession, both Preybirds detonating in his wake.

The gunner misses.

---

As soon as they get into range, Jessika's finger, which hovers over the switch for her s-foils, flicks the toggle and locks them into the open position. <<Red Two, focus on the weaker Starchasers first. Let's thin the crowd.>> This is a scrappy kind of fight, with a smaller force charging headlong into a bigger one. The differences in training are going to have to make up the difference, because they may have a technological edge, but it's small given the Resistance's own antiques. There's a split second when the two groups are within range of one another, and then space is a kaleidoscope of snubfighter fire. Jessika banks towards the R41 Starchasers rather than setting herself up in pursuit of the Preybirds. Better to play interceptor role against them at first.

Weaving through the chaos, Jessika angles to intercept an R41 that aids her by streaking by in pursuit of someone else. She slips in behind to begin the predator and prey game, making quick, instinctual adjustments with the fighter's yolk to line up the enemy in front of her with the computer dominating the center of her console. Impacts from other fighters on her six force her to break off, sending the paired fire from her cannons streaking off and hitting nothing in the process. "Get to work on those shields, Case." As usual, her shields pop at the slightest provocation, since the briefest touch of enemy fire seems to bring them down no matter the situation. It's a common enough occurrence that she's hardly rattled by it.

---

The Renegade doesn't look good, though her status doesn't appear critical. Status reports from all three capital ships in the formation flood her screens, and Dawn keeps a grim, steely eye on the data. Her ability to process information quickly serves her well, automatically jumping to the facts that she needs to make her decisions. Another crewmember reports that new firing solutions have been entered to target the second spy satellite.

"Ready, Lieutenant!"

"FIRE!"

The first barrage of heavy artillery fire streaks towards the second target satellite in a wash of iridescent blue light, joining the Renegade's cannons in the effort to destroy it. Smoldering metal is visible even from this distance, but it isn't destroyed. Not yet.

"Prepare third barrage. Status report on the Renegade?" the green-eyed brunette demands, turning to her bridge officer.

"She's wounded but she's not critical. The Flurry seems okay, we're still working on getting our shields up."

"It can't be helped," she breathes. "We're going to have to shift the formation. Send the following orders to the Flurry and input these coordinates in the Navcomp. We're going to try and ease her burden as much as we can."

"But we need time to-- "

"We're still moving," Dawn interjects. "Hopefully engineering will get us up by then. If not, things are going to be /much/ more exciting around here." Her eyes move back to the screens. "What about our squadrons?"

"They've engaged the enemy starfighter corps."

She quietly tugs on a lock of hair. "Have them adjust the Flurry's position, just in case they breach the line."

---

Just when Red 2 dove, Jaya paused just long enough to move after her. Blurs of motion all around them as laser blasts light up the small bit of space they occupy. Jaya watches as Red 2 dances from side to side, chasing her own target while trying to evade the ones on her tail. It's one of the R41's that Jaya chews apart with her blasts, but it seems to be a trade of karma as she's hit harshly, and left with scoring across her exterior hull. The impact shakes Jaya violently and her eyes widen when she sees the result. Adjusting course, she begins to try and evade. She's certain another hit like that might do her in. <<Red 2, this Red 5 I got shalacked good. I'm gonna try to hang in here to get that last one off your tail.>>

---

Renegade continues to take punishment from those warhead launchers. The usually talented pilot has not proven herself capable of maintaining excellence. The heavily hulled warship isn't likely to take critical damage from these concussion missiles, but it is playing hell with her gunners' targeting solutions. Engineering crews rush around, trying to seal hull breaches, and the like. The satellite continues to take fire from the capital ships, and another solid salvo is likely going to be enough to complete that portion of the mission. But, there's still a squadron and a half or so of Bothan starfighters tangled up in a massive furball, and four appear to be breaking off, and burning toward Renegade. A proper salvo of torpedoes -could- do serious damage to the flagship.

"I see them, Bait" Gren swings the E-wing around, and points its nose at the flight of hostile Bothan fighters making a run toward the Rebel Assault Frigate. <<We've got runners, headed for Rennie. Intercepting, let's clean them up.>> Distorted orders crackle from Renegade Leader's comm system, sent to the rest of the fighter wing. An R-41 drops in on his six, and while he slews his own interceptor in an effort to avoid fire, his shields still light up, and static fills his speakers, courtesy of a glancing it. It doesn't keep him off target, though. Triple laser bursts are walked along the fuselage of an R41 in the attack flight, tearing it apart. A second kill, at least. <<Antilles, kill that target. You have incoming strikers.>>

---

Ektor's brilliant and time tested strategy of roaring directly at the enemy continues to result in a spectacular display of the pilot's nerve and the Y-wing's ability to endure punishment. A light bomber isn't intended to get stuck into a squadron of heavy fighters, and an alarmed warble from Tenner signals significant hull damage, and damaged subsystems. The droid relays that he can't get the shields back online. "Then guess I gotta kill em all first, yeah?" Ektor snaps back, continuing his reckless charge, and blasting another pair off heavy Preybirds. One detonates in an angry fireball, the other pinwheels through space end over end, crippled.

---

From the Renegade a single fighter bursts from the hangar. <<Gold Leader, managed to untangle my fighter from the hangar. Anyone care to update me?>> David Ironside calls into his comm system, having finally maneuvered his fighter past the damaged hangar bay. The N-1 is immediately targeted, laser blasts flashing brightly on the shields as the pilot distances the craft from the cruiser. Pulling on the control stick, he blasts at one of the R-41s headed straight for the Renegade, every single bolt in the volley hitting its intended target. <<Renegade Leader, I'm heading to your wing. Point me at 'em.>> he calls, corkscrewing around the wounded Starchaser to find the E-Wing.

---

"Roger, sir. I put the Flurry on standby formation in case the strikers breach your line," comes Dawn's transmission through Gren's communications array. Patching into another transmissions line, she speaks with the officer in charge of the Renegade. "Start moving to the third target, I'll take it from here. Flurry and I will follow."

"Firing solutions acquired, Lieutenant!"

"FIRE!"

Blue lights cut through the darkness in an attempt to destroy the satellite completely, but fail to miss their mark. "Shavit," Dawn breathes, taking up the comm again and looking up at the damaged target. But before she can say anything else, the entire bridge /quakes/ as mines pepper the starboard side of the vessel, triggering sensors and washhing her screens with red.

"Multiple hull breaches detected!" her bridge officer cries.

"Get engineering on it!" she exclaims, taking a deep breath to quell her frustration. It would be another story, if she could clone herself and assist with the repair efforts also, but she can't. "Anything critical?"

"No, Lieutenant!"

"Give me live updates on the damage, we're going to have to move!" She looks back up at the satellite. "We can't tarry here, it's helping no one. All ahead full, we'll try to blow it up while we make a pass." After assessing the structure from where she sits, her eyes widen in realization. She turns back to her console.

"There's a way," she patches through all ships. "I'm marking the target, all capital ships concentrate your fire. This is our last shot on this, we have to get it done."

---

It's everything Jaya can do to stay with the younger Red 2. Adjusting her angle just as she catches a glimpse of the fighter ahead of Red 2, she anticipates Jess will pull away and it's the opportunity Jaya capitalizes on. Opening fire again, she catches two fighters in respective order, freeing Red 2 for the moment, but the battle isn't over. Jaya is struck with a devastating hit that leaves her dazed slightly. Sparks fly all around her and for a moment, she can't see for the blinding light. She cries out, shaking her head, and manages to just pull away from the fight a bit. Her vision begins to return, and she tries to make out how much damage was done. Alarms are blaring all around!

---

The last spy satellite falls prey to a pinpoint strike by a number of Renegade's heavy turbolaser batteries, turning the damaged piece of equipment into so much space junk. That's technically a mission accomplished, but both Sacrifice and Renegade have taken damage, and will need some time for field repairs. Blue Squadron finally does its job, and wipes out the warhead launching defensive mines, and the rest of the fighters, have atleast, taken out the small wing that detached to make a run on the fleet.

Gren's in the process of twisting his E-wing around to rejoin the furball at large. <<Hear you, Gold. Glad you could join us>> A pause, as a his droid makes a triumphant noise. Both of the targets were dead. Finally. Delede might've been on the verge of saying more. But, there's an explosion off his port wing, courtesy of an R41's concussion launcher. The E-wing is thrown hard off-course, and there's now a large hole in the snubfighter's undercarriage. And smoke and shrapnel have filled the cockpit. Blood pours from a wound in the Admiral's arm. And the engines are dead. "Damn it, Bait! What's broken??" There's a low trill, and then a frantic BLAT from the R2. The fighter's power signature is nill, and its course is ballistic, into the fight.

---

Tenner- though a marvelous effort of engineering that stands as a testament to droid-kind, stops a circuit cascade and brings the shields back online... just in time for Ektor to slam into a fresh volley that rips apart the armored fuselage, sending up a spray of sparks and a fresh curse from the interior. Almost maniacally, as ion turret and laser cannons combine to detonate another Preybird, he crows, <<That's five of you shaggy mother-humpers!>> Despite the pilot's verve, Green Two is a flying wreck that looks ready to die at the next impact.

---

The fighter behind her refuses to be shaken off course, but he's not the only one pursuing the X-Wing that's weaving and banking through the fray. With the deflector shield down, the starfighter fire from the overwhelming amount of other enemies is leaving her own covered in scorch marks. Rather than panicking, Jessika continues to fly. One of the hostile fighters passes in front of her crosshairs and pays dearly for it, as a pair of bolts from opposing and alternating cannons lance through it and turn it into a twist of metal spiraling off from the fray before it erupts. There are warning lights cascading across her control panels, but there's little choice to do anything but grit her teeth and keep shooting the enemy down. "Case, focus all your attention on the deflector shield." The fighters in the Resistance vanguard are being heavily damaged.

---

Mission accomplished, but they're not out of the water yet.

There's no time to sink on her knees in relief when the Renegade takes her advisement and concentrates fire on the structural weaknesses she has managed to pinpoint on the satellite, but the hard truth is that she is going to have to rely on their squadrons to keep up the fight for just a few moments longer. "Sir, I'm going to concentrate my efforts on analyzing the damage reports to see if we can get us out of here faster," she says, already scrolling through the updates that she has received in the last few minutes. Engineering is working overtime on all ships, and she makes the decision to ignore the Flurry's status for now once she's assured that it can move.

Fingers fly over her switches, and right where she stands, she formulates a repair plan based on the damage reports that she has received, prioritized from the most crucial (shields and any damage to the hyperdrives) to the least. She sends both to the engineering crews of both the Sacrifice and the Renegade.

It isn't long until good news reaches her line.

"Shields restored, Lieutenant," her harried-looking bridge officer reports.

"Good," Dawn replies. "Let's get to the rest."

---

<<Coming up behind you, Renegade Leader>> David reports when he does so. Just then, the cockpit is lit up with the blast that takes out the E-Wing's engines. "That's no good.." David mutters to himself, earning a softly beeped reply from the astromech droid behind him. "Later, Ones." David answers the apparent question. "First we gotta make sure the Admiral gets out of this one alive." David breaks out of his turn as he talks, headed to cut off the Starchaser targeting Renegade Leader. "Targeting.." David whispers mostly to himself, or entirely to himself, as the beeps turn to a monotone he lets loose a volley that forces the R-41 to break off. <<Renegade Leader, what's your status?>> David asks as he flies by the E-Wing, slowing down for a visual check.

---

Breaking away from her flight leader for the first time during this fight, Jaya desperately tries to bring her shields back online. She works the console over, adjusting power, and making the appropriate adjustments all the while the R41 tailing her continues to fire. She increases her speed, moving back into the fray just as her system indicates the shields have returned. Jaya has nothing to say for the occasion, aside from just coughing and trying to find the lunatic flying behind her. Growling through a grueling turn, she kills her speed and folds in, giving the pilot behind her a choice to collide or avoid. The R41 shoots past her, and Jaya slams the throttle down and immediately opens fire at his stern, ripping the fuselage apart and reducing the craft to debris. <<This is Red 5>> She sounded distressed. <<Where am I needed?>>

---

The Resistance's fleets gunners open up, sweeping the minefield as best they can, as they manuever toward where the fighting is the heaviest. Shields are strenghtening, wounds are being licked. It's cleanup time.

The Bothan pilots...the surviving Bothan pilot...they break off. Their mission has failed, and they won't see their pay if they die here, fighting the Resistance fleet. They've lost a squadron of starfighters, and the rest are damaged. There's nothing to gain but empty glory by dying here.

As David flies past Gren's cockpit, the senior officer is punching at his console, trying to get comms, or -something- running. When he spots the Naboo fighter, he gives the pilot a single thumbs up. He's alive and well. He points toward the fighters that Bait have told him are breaking free, and holds a palm up, and shakes his head. Trying to tell the other pilot to break pursuit. Ignore the blood on his flightsuit, please. And he's clearly got no comms.

---

"HAAA," Ektor hollers at the sight of the remaining enemy fighters breaking away from the dogfight. "Tenner, get me more power to engines, they're getting away!" A fierce grin on his face beneath the singed visor of his flight helmet, the Tionese glowers at the response. "Whaddya mean auxiliary systems are offline? Get them back up quick, yeah?" If the Y-wing doesn't lose pieces landing, it will be a minor miracle.

---

Jessika knows that if another concentrated strafe of fire hits her, that could be the end of the line. Instead, the expected impacts never arrive. Case relays that the enemy fighters are breaking off, and Jessika lets out a breath she never realized she was holding. Evening out, Jessika closes her s-foils and speeds towards the Renegade to provide a screen formation if necessary. It doesn't look like this is a tactic by the enemy so much as a full retreat now that their defense targets have been eliminated by the injured Resistance fleet. The Resistance squadrons aren't doing too much better. <<Good flying, Red Five. Get ready for a long night of work after this. I get the feelings the mechanics are gonna need some help.>>

---

David squints, circling around Renegade Leader. "He's gesturing.. but there's too much smoke." he tells Ones. Flipping a few switches, David turns to the Renegade or the Sacrifice for orders. <<Command, this is Gold Leader. Renegade Leader is dead in the water. So to speak. Do we break pursuit or take out the fleeing fighters?>> The pilot continues his protective flight around the E-Wing, scanning the skies for incoming threats, though none are doing so.

---

It's only when those manning the radar confirms that the Bothan forces are in retreat that Dawn finally sinks into her chair, loosening her collar and taking several deep breaths. Her bridge officer looks on in concern, when pain visibly grips the green-eyed officer's face.

"Lieutenant...?"

Dawn waves a hand, fumbling for the inner lining of her jacket for her medication dispenser. "Continue giving me live updates on the repairs," she instructs quietly. "And start putting together lists of the wounded and casualties with basic descriptions of their injuries, if any. Send them to our medical teams so they can triage in advance of the officers' arrivals."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"How are our pilots?"

"They're good, ma'am. Blue Squadron managed to hold off the missile barrage. The rest are-- "

David's familiar voice slips through her comms. The bridge officer falls quiet when Dawn turns away. "Gold Leader, this is the Sacrifice," she transmits. "Hold your pursuit, both the Renegade and the Sacrifice are still vulnerable. Do what you can to extract Renegade Leader and get him out of there ASAP."

---

Jaya ensures her ship is still flyable, then looks for her flight leader before following Pava in to land what's left of their crafts. <<This is Red 5, bringing up the tail end.>>