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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:01:38 GMT
08-20-2010, 12:28 AM
Romon
OOC: open to all Rogues and recruit Dosz. There are some key points that already have most of the post written for so I will fill you in when certain things take place. I think you all will like this alot and I can't wait to see how you all play it out!
Romon, leaning against the open hanger door drew in a lungful of early morning air. It was cold and had a bit of a bite to it, but it would warm up as the day when by. His ice blue eyes looked out over the scene around him. Outside the big hanger door was a large open dura creet area. Around it's parameter were other hangers and support buildings. Further out were other building on the base, then the small town. After that one could fee a few farms out in the distance. Morning was new and the sun was just coming up. Checking his wrist crono Romon noted that it was 0645, almost time for his surprise. Taking another look back outside, Romon saw that it looked like everyone was still asleep. No one moved on the duramac and the other hangers were devoid of life. There were no sounds coming from the city and the animals were still laying still on the hill sides in the distance. Romon smiled to himself. Yep, every one was going to hate him in the next twenty minuets.
Taking a last breath of the fresh air he turned and headed back into the hanger. He was dressed in full combat flight gear. He wore his new red and black flight suit was with all of the rank, name, and squadron patches removed from their Velcro attachments as was standard practice for combat missions. He had on his black fight gear, his blaster pistol strapped to his right thigh and a virbo blade strapped to his left calf. He carried his black helmet with the red skulls and his call sign "Ghost" painted in red across the visor. He wondered past the lines of fighters, now all brightly lit by the hanger's over head lights.
This hanger was alive and kicking. A few utility droids were running around, making sure all the birds were topped off and the pre flight checks were done. He noticed Rogue squadron's new mechanic, Arianna Talien, working on one of the birds and wondered over to chat for a moment. So was doing a top notch jobs. The birds were looking better than when he and Laina had been doing most of the work on the fighters. Approaching her from the side so as not to startle her with a rather large hydro spanner in her hand he said "Hey there, how they looking? All preflighted and read to go?"
***
08-20-2010, 12:35 AM
Romon
Arianna smiled as she glanced at Romon. She had taken to early morning mechanic work because no officers were around to bug her that such and such 'had' to be done, or this and that had been done wrong. Or worse, that something didn't work only to find out the pilot just didn't know what he was doing. She had been to a couple other hangers during her internship and introduction and discovered Rogue was the best command.
Romon kept his men in shape, and no one complained seriously about anything unless it truly was serious. She nodded as she looked up from the last of her work and waved off the R2 that had been helping her. "I settled that issue you brought up. Seems a bolt had worked its way loose just enough to vibrate in flight under stress, but not in turn over on the deck. No worries though, it's all set and that vibration your R2 keeps whining about should be gone now." She slid sideways and kicked her heels up rested her arms on her bent knees and smiled. Shaking her head her loose tendrils of hair wafted about her face almost like spiderwebs. "You sure you want to do this? You do realize how many people will not like you by the time lunch rolls around." She laughed and nodded over her shoulder to the barracks and hanger. "At least the fighters are ready. Would love to hear the whining from a few others when they think their birds aren't ready for flight. Speaking of which, that one there," she nodded across the bay, "needs to learn to turn everything off when he gets out. Half a dozen systems were left on. He would have fried most of them firing up for the mission this morning." She laughed and brushed stray hair from her face.
Seeing him charged this morning like he was made her realize that the last week at other hangers was like being away from home. This hanger, this command, this squadron, were home to her now. She absently glanced at his "Ghost" tag and hoped (nervously) that one day she would have a nickname. She only dreaded it coming from a mistake or mishap.
Ari
***
08-20-2010, 12:53 AM
Romon
OOC: OK, this is one of those points lol. Please post up arriving at the hanger, get your bird ready to go, but please don't take off yet, I got something planned
"Hmmm, I didn't notice a vibration, but Vamp just likes to complain and have someone listen to him. Bit I am glad you found a potential problem, thanks. And yes, I want to do this. The Imps might show at any time and we have to be ready to roll. Plus, it will be fun!" As the two were standing around talking, Vamp, Romon's rather impatient R2 unit, had enlisted the help of one of the utility droids to get him hooked up to the magnetic boom that would raise the little droid up into the fighter. After he had gotten himself locked into his socked, Vamp whistled and beeped a string of noises telling Romon that the pilot was now waisting the little droids time and they had air to catch. The little guy was as excited as Romon was about getting some flight time in.
Smiling at Ari, Romon headed over to his black and red X-wing. Half way there he turns back to her and says, "I am gonna get you a name patch made that says Tink, because you are always tinkering on something." Half jumped up the boarding ladder and after the service droid had removed the ladder and Romon settled him self into the ejection seat, Romon spoke to the R2 unit. "Easy boy, I gotta send everyone the wake up call."
Pulling out his dada pad he punched in a message to Darksun, telling him that the mission was about to be underway and he was welcome to join them. The second message Romon typed up brought a slime to his face. This one went to all the Rouges, it read: "This is a condition Red scramble. We have inbound bogies vectored at the base, they will be here in 10 minuets, so that means we need to be in the air in 5. Get your butts in combat flight gear and get to the hanger stat.. This is for real people, move your feet!" He then sent another message to Dozs to tell her that he had a bird and droid ready to go for her. After hitting the send button Romon called out to Vamp, "OK buddy, hit it." The droid was tapped into the bases security system and was now activating every flashing read light and alarm klaxon signaling a scramble, between the hanger and the Rogue's pilots quarters. Fortunately, the two were close, meaning most of the base would not be disturbed by the alarms, all the better for the wake up call. "OK Vamp, they have to be here in 5, I am going to have engines turning in 3. I want them to think this is the real deal and they are running late." As Romon strapped into the ejection seat and pulled on his helmet, he smiled. He was becoming one with a good friend.
Instead of climbing into a righter, Romon strapped one onto his back. It became an extension of him. His hands moved out of routine, flipping switches and pressing buttons that brought this bird to life. The power generators started to hum. The cockpit lights and gage's started to light up, telling Romon how the old girl was feeling. Other systems started to come on line and at the 2 minuet to launch mark, Romon keyed the mike. "OK Vamp, I am going to light them off, let me know if I miss anyone coming in." He said as he knew the droid was keeping a watchful eye out. Vamp had caught many TIEs trying to sneak onto Romon's six.
Romon started to flip the switches that would start the four powerful sub light engines. One by one the compressors began to turn, filling the hanger with an eire shrill. As the turbines came up to speed the fuel jets started flowing and the ignighters lit. The engines snarled to life, puffing smoke clouds as the leaned out and spun up. The hanger became a furry or noise as all four jets reved up. Romon, felt at home. The straps holding him securely into place, the tinted visor over his eyes, the vibrations of the engines through the air frame, the smell of unburnt jet fuel from the engines as they started, the snarling scream of the engines now idling smoothly. This fighter was part of him and he part of it, they moved as one. Putting his feet on the electric rudder pedals, his left hand on the throttles and his right on the control stick he assumed the position most natural to him. His head on a swivel, as it had to be in combat, swept through its range of motion, his eyes processing info as he saw it. A glance over his shoulder showed Vamp, looking around, His eyes swept the gages. 4 lit and running at 100%, shields 100%, weapons, unarmed but set at 25% for the training exercise. This way they could "tag" each other and register hits with out causing any real damage except maybe some scuffed paint.
The black and red bird of prey was alive and well, and ready to fly. Romon left the canopy open so he could see as the other pilots showed up, and if need be fuss at them for being late. The first part of mission: "Wake Up Call" was sprang, the second would be sprung soon. If all went well, today should be a good day. Yes it was early, and yes they were being given a very real scare, but they were getting flight time! The birds were prepped and ready, all they need to do was load their droids and start them up. They would head out of here and go investigate these bogies. It should be interesting.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:02:44 GMT
08-20-2010, 12:59 AM
Arianna
Ari laughed as the R2 unit got indignant with Romon. “Tink, huh? I guess I can live with that. Just know I will TINKER where I need to to keep you all in flight.” She laughed and moved away. Had he been listening to her thoughts? She glanced back over her shoulder and wondered for a brief second if Romon was part Jedi.
Shaking her head she continued to move out of the way. Watching him get in and start his preflight, she laughed as the klaxon began ringing. Sliding off the low end of the wing she was perched on, she flipped the spano around her wrist over and over as if it was merely a scribe stick and not a wrench weighing a couple pounds. Walking over to the side of the hanger, she leaned on the door to watch everything from the shadows.
Sure enough, in less than 4 minutes, people started swarming into the hanger. She laughed as some found their droids questioning them how certain things had gotten done and prepped. One pilot was even arguing that if 'he' hadn't fixed the problem and the 'droid' hadn't fixed the problem, then how did it get fixed? She finally whistled hard and got his attention. "I fixed it! Now get your *** moving!" She laughed and shook her head at the man before leaning back on the hanger door out of the way of the coming blasts that would wash back thru as they took off.
Ari
"Tink"
Rogue Squadron technician
***
08-20-2010, 11:21 AM
Dack Seder
The two pilots had failed to notice something (or someone) as they were preparing for the mission. Dack Seder had been up most of last night painting nose art on his fighter. A nexu over the words "Bad Kitty" in aurabesh. As Dack was finishing up painting his X-wing he fell asleep, write there. So at 6:50 in the morning the alarms ALL go off, *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* "Huh what?" Dack jumped up, his helmet falling to the ground. He bent down and picked it up, then put it on covering his right eye. He then jumped in the cockpit of his fighter with his flight suit half on half off revealing an old paint splaterd dark blue T-shirt.
"Wait I almost forgot Squeaky!" Dack said refering to his excitable green and white R2 unit. When Dack turned around to look for him (still not noticing his helmets odd position) he saw him already in the droid socket.
"How did you get in there?"
"Beep beep whirrr? Ooop eem!"
Dack looked down, "oh, my uniform."
He zipped up his uniform and stuffed his patches into a pocket. Then he turned his helmet around.
"Squeaky beginn take-off preperations."
***
08-20-2010, 12:16 PM
Mazen Darksun
Mazen gave a smug grin, stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and walked back into the hangar. The CO of Rogue Squadron strolled up to his X-Wing casually, running his gloved fingers over the blue and silver hull. He offered a mock salute to Wheezer - his R2 unit - and loped up the ladder into the cockpit.
Strapping in without any thought, Mazen's gaze drifted from the holopic of Adum and Cela to the pic of Alexandra. He grinned at both, then slid the helmet onto his head, tipping the visor back to avoid the world with an orange hue for the moment.
"We good, Wheezer?"
The droid chirped happily that all systems were a-go. He sounded much happier to be back in the squadron too! A tech on the ground removed his ladder and Mazen lowered the cockpit into place. On the private comm frequency between CO and XO, Mazen simply gave Romon a double-click.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:04:14 GMT
08-20-2010, 04:34 PM
Jason
Jason jumped out of the bed and quickly put on his flight suit then woke up his astromech droid. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he raced out of the door and to the hangar. Had he not been so tired he would of noticed some of his fellow sqaudmates were already there. He snug his droid into it's socket and quickly hopped into his ship. Flicking switches and pressing buttons the A-Wing came to life. He began preforming take-off procedures and in a few moments he'd be ready to roll.
***
08-20-2010, 09:13 PM
Vaeryn Dosz
Vaeryn, who had earlier been made aware she'd be flying with the Rogues today, quickly finished dressing, the alarm buzzing irritatingly throughout the woman's barracks. She zipped up her flightsuit, yawning as she did so. She was used to the life of a smuggler, and waking up this early was not part of it. But she did as she was ordered, hastily slipping on her boots as she exited the barracks, the chilled morning air surprising her. Letting out a shiver, she began sprinting towards the hangar, eager to get behind the controls of a ship again. She had flown just the other day with the Wraiths, but no matter her history with a 'Y', it was not exactly her favorite ship.
The short run towards the hangar allowed Vaeryn to clear her mind, and wake her up. Her muscles sourly, but surely loosened, and the chilling wind smacking her in the face cleared her mind, preparing for the flight ahead of her. By the time she reached the hangar, her hair was whipped by the wind, and her cheeks felt slightly raw from the wind. She gradually slowed her run, skidding to a halt in front of Romon, the man who had greeted her into the Navy. She snapped a crisp salute, standing with as correct of posture as she could muster, her loosened muscles cramping up. She unlocked her knees, slowly lowering her salute. Placing her hands behind her back, she relaxed.
"What is it I'll be flying today?" Vaeryn asked, breathing in and out slowly.
***
08-20-2010, 10:25 PM
Romon
OOC: Dosz, in my last post I was already in the cockpit with the engines turning, ready for take off lol. I kinda forgot to write it in there so I will write it here. There is an X-wing all set and ready with and R4 named Bantha (he makes noises like a Bantha when he whistles). There will be a ground crew men there to show you which one is yours. It is had been preflighted but you are free to do one if you want. Climb on up, get her running and post a take off thread after I make my next post. Sorry for the mix up but just think of it as you got the above info in your message letting you know you would be flying with us today. Again, sorry for not having that in my last post.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:04:44 GMT
08-21-2010, 12:08 AM
Romon
OCC: Ok, here is another one of those turning points I was talking about. Please post up until the point that you join me information. From there I will set the stage for the next point of the mission. Keep it up, when this is done it will read just like a chapter out of one of the X-wing novels!
The noise in the hanger bay grew to a deafening roar as more and more fighters lit off their engines. If you were not wearing hearing protection would you would be hard of hearing for weeks. Even Romon's helmet, failed to do and adequate job of blocking out the ever growing thunder. Flipping the switch that lowered his canopy Romon dead a quick head count. The canopy closed and slid forward into position, locking itself. He was now sealed inside this armored bath tub that was called a canopy. The canopy kept air in and everything else out. Once he got into space, he took his own atmosphere with him.
Most of the pilots were loaded up and had their engines spinning. They had filed in, one by and in groups of two, in various stages of being in uniform. Some were pulling on boots and flight gear while they ran. Dack had been asleep near his X-wing. His bird had a fresh tattoo to go with her new paint job.
All of the Rogues had taken part of Mission:Makeover a few days ago inwich, armed with paint guns and brushes they had given their birds custom paint jobs. Romon had re did his red and black color scheme to incorporate Rogue squadrons red stripes and red wing markings. He had added a few of his own touches. Apparently Dack had had a last minuet idea and had fallen asleep while painting it. Ari was gonna poo a brick when she saw the mess his repulsor lifts sent the open paint cans flying. Oh well, too late now.
As his squadron mate's birds lit up as blue marks on his targeting display one by one as they came online. Once most were up and running Romon reached down to his knee board and hit play on the data corder held there with Velcro. A hard rock song filled his head phones. It would shut off when he gave or received a transmission, but the music helped him to focus. He also turned of his internal compensator, a device that compensates for the G forces pilots experienced dunning flight maneuvers. Turned all the way up, the pilot wouldn't feel a thing, turned off, the pilot was at the mercy of the force of gravity. Romon usually left his set at about 50%. But he turned it off now, he wanted to feel this. He got his bird in motion.
Goosing the repulsor lifts the red and black bird of prey jumped up into the air. Romon flicked the switch that raised his landing skids then got the bird into forward momentum. His feet on the rudder pedals, his right hand on the stick and his left on the throttles her kept the repulsor lifts running full tilt and kicked the left rudder pedal. Since his fighter was parked right next to the take off and landing path at a 90 degree and angle this slewed his fighter around and got the nose pointed straight out of the hanger doors. As the repulsor lifts continued to whine, his feet danced on the rudder pedals, keeping the nose pointed straight out the door. The X-wing quickly picked up speed and it was only a matter of seconds until he was through the massive hanger door.
The mooring sun light, coming over the mountain ridge hit his bird. The shiny new paint job dazzled in the beams of light. Rogue squadron was one of the best squadrons in the Navy and they were to be the focal point of the spear. The Wraiths acted more in the shadows. With each bird painted to reflect the pilot inside, there would be no doubt it would be the Rogues knocking on your door when 12 brightly, individually, painted X-wings jumped in system then attacked with military precision.
After his snubfighter was about fifty yards outside of the hanger Romon firewalled the throttles. Since his compensator was off, Romon was slammed back into his seat by the G forces. He kept the fighter only a meeter or so above the duramack as it quickly approached the speed of sound. Once he reached the middle of the duramack pad, he pulled the stick back into his lap and rolled the fighter on its side about a quarter turn. This sent the X-wing skyward at a 45 degree angel off to the left away from the base. He straighted out the stick and continued the climb, power on. His eyes swept his gages, he was already over the speed of sound. "Opps, they ain't gonna like that." He thought as grinned, knowing the sonic boom was playing hell on the sleepy town below. Ah the sound of freedom.
To anyone that had looked in the direction of the sudden scream of raw power, they would have seen a black and red X-wing shrieking out of hanger, hugging the ground, trailing 15 foot trails of red fire from his howling engines. As the fighter pitched skyward, the flames gouged trenches into the duramac and wingtip vortexes caused water vapor to roll off of his S-foils, making contrails off his wingtips. The gouges left in the duramac joined many others from other take offs like his own. To those on the ground the fighter was a black and red monster, shrieking skyward like a demon out of hell, trailing fire and smoke off of its laser canons.
Then the sonic boom hit. The fighter had breeched the sound barrier right after it had began its climb. The sudden explosion of noise shook windows, sent holo pics falling off of shelfs, started the alarms of ever land speeder within at 10 mile radius, and sent the cattle in the fields running for cover.
Romon keyed the mike, on the open channel to the squadron.
"OK boys and girls, what you just saw was a maximum performance, combat intercept take off. You are free to try one but don't get yourselves killed. I am gonna hang back and give you all a chance to catch up. Form up on me." Romon pulled his throttles back and let gravity slow him down. Turning the compensator back on Romon switched to the com chancel with Mazen. "Well, the locals are gonna have all kinds of nice things to say about us at the next public relations meeting, but hey, we are here for there protection, right?" Romon smiled as he savored the sensations of flight.
Looking back over his shoulder he saw buildings that just a few seconds ago were hangers large enough to house 3 squadrons of fighters now were tiny grey rectangles in the mosaic of the county side. This was one of the moments he loved most about flight. Leave planet side and heading into space, watching the planet fall away from him. Reentry was also exciting. It you were in a hurry a planet could grow from a ball the size of credit, back to full size structures in under 15 minuets.
After allowing himself a brief minuet of bliss, he turned his attention back inside the cockpit. All systems were still green. This old bird, battle worn and tired as she was, was still doing what she was meant to do. Intercept and destroy enemy targets in a rapid response-maximum firepower type of fashion. To the both of them, it was a good day to be alive. His eyes scanned his radar, the blue dots were closing rapidly, his pilots obviously choosing to copy his take off. As he waited for them to form up on him he marveled at the ruckus that was going on on the ground as the fighters poured out of hanger one by one.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:06:12 GMT
08-23-2010, 12:11 AM
Arianna
"For the love of Jawas!" She growled as paint cans blew across the hanger. "YOU ARE CLEANING THAT UP WHEN YOU GET BACK!" She yelled at the pilot (Dack) though she knew he would never hear her. She did know he would hear her well and good when he returned though.
Shaking her head, she nodded to the CO as he walked to his bird. She doubted he saw her, but at least if he did he wouldn't claim she had snubbed him. She was about to turn back to watch Romon when the whine of his engines made her slam her hands on her ears. Despite the helmet with double hearing protection, the whine bit into her brain like a knife. And as she grinned when he exited the hanger, his backblast and sonic wave knocked her on her backside and left her sitting, sprawled like a child, laughing herself to tears as one by one the others departed. So this was life with Rogue. She rubbed her hip and shook her head mumbling, "I'm gonna need padded britches." Shaking her head as she looked at the burn his departure had left, she shook her head and yelled to his departing, ever shrinking, aircraft, "You DO realize that's not good for her!!"
She remained where she was knowing if any of the others decided to copy their illustrious leader, she would be back on the ground anyway. Better to lean back on her arms, to brace herself, and just watch.
Ari
"Tink"
Rogue Squadron Mech
***
08-23-2010, 02:35 PM
Dack
After finishing the pre-flight checks, Dack had one last thing to say before meeting the sky. "Pardon our noise, it's the sound of freedom!" He yelled over the roar of the engines.
After he closed his cockpit he saw Arianna run over and start yelling something about, climbing up. Dack shrugged and motioned for her to move out of the way so she wouldn't get hurt by his four engines. Then he began moving down the run-way. Slowly at first then faster and faster until his X-wing was off the ground and forming up on Romon.
"Uh.... hey Ghost," Dack called over his comm, "This might not be the right time to ask but I still don't have a call-sign or a number. Got any ideas?"
***
08-23-2010, 05:16 PM
Mazen
Blatant waste of fuel, noise hazard... gods above!
Mazen could feel a headache threatening to bubble up in his skull already. He sat back in his seat. Dack had already made his exit, and by the looks of it, he'd managed to aggravate their new mechanic. Mazen rubbed his jaw, sighing at the sight.
That'll be another incident to deal with later, he predicted.
Almost like watching a wreck, Darksun held back, waiting for the other pilots to make their departure. He'd take the final slot in this party just to see how the others' fared in their leave-taking.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:07:26 GMT
08-24-2010, 12:41 AM
Kyle Curren
Not exactly late to the game, Kyle Curran staggered, sleep-drunk, into the hangar, his hair a nerf-licked mess from the firm pillow he had been buried in not five minutes prior. He didn't bother running a handful of water through it to fix the muss. Once his helmet was on, it didn't matter.
Moments later, with the hangar bay a familiar shade of orange, Kyle scanned the noisy chamber for his fighter. The new XO had issued orders to customize their X-Wings, which Kyle had jumped on like a katarn rider on deathsticks. When the details of the paint-job were read moments later, however, his plans were dashed. His years along the Rim had led to an innate ability to hodgepodge even the most inconspicuous of landspeeders into a sonic-booming harbinger of doom. But he had always fragged out in art courses in primary school.
And so, Kyle's snub was hardly a thing of beauty, having settled for a matte-black finish. He did have an idea for a bit of creativity, however, and had put in a request for a canister of white acrylic as well. His intention was to paint an as-yet-unknown emblem on his fighter for every kill he achieved. Hopefully, in a few years' time, he would be flying a completely-blanched fighter instead.
Smiling inwardly at such a concept, Kyle ran through his preflight checks. His R2 unit, designated R2-B7, drummed up the diagnostics for him to view. He hadn't named the droid yet, and truly had little interaction with "him" up to this point. Soon, though, Kyle would think of a name for the droid, and hopefully the two would mesh a bit more, making his presence in Rogue Squadron that much more effective. For now, however, the droid was content with taxiing his fighter in order behind the XO and the other pilots.
Before the canopy slid into place, Kyle was treated to the closed-chamber acoustics of quad-engines roaring to life, and he made quick note of the fighter. Frowning, he muttered, "I'm sure that'll help our reputation..." Glancing down at the familiar all-capitals text of the droid's communication module, he had to grin at the response only an artificial intelligence could conjure.
SQUADRON DESIGNATE: ROGUE IS CURRENTLY AT AN APPROVAL RATING OF 47.6%, ACCORDING TO THE LATEST REPUBLIC POLLS.
"Remind me to send you into the techs for a personality installation, Arby." Arby...I like it. The electronic equivalent of a grunt resounded through his in-cockpit sound enhancers, and Kyle's grin grew to a chuckle. "And we need to clean up your data mining. I think you have some information jumbled there."
A melodic chirp indicated all systems were go, and with one final, bellowing yawn, Cadet Curran waited for the green light. There were a few ahead of him, and Kyle was dreading missing his morning caf. Anything aside from an upright, standing position this soon after waking up was always dangerous to his consciousness. Fortunately, the verbal equivalent to stimulants was given as the XO's commands were relayed over the squadron frequency.
He'd not so much seen as he'd heard and felt his superior's takeoff vector, and glanced at the local-time chrono. Chinning his comm, Kyle quipped, "Complementary wake-up call, courtesy of Rogue Squadron...great." There was no attempt to take the sleepy sarcasm out of his voice, and ticked off the fighters in his head as he allowed Arby to angle his fighter out of the hangar bay doors.
Shaking his head once, he took a deep breath. Dialing down the inertial compensator to 97 percent - he rather liked his eyeballs at their current socket depth - Kyle said, "Here we go..." The throttle screeched to life, a quartet of fusial thrust engines screaming in protest to their early-morning runs, and Kyle tightened his toes' grip against the bottom of his boots, hoping that it would lend a bit of strength to the snubfighter's fuselage integrity.
Knuckles creaking against the leather in his gloves, Kyle reached a reasonable altitude before slewing to port, the long expanse of green below, blue above, was rotated roughly 75 degrees. Checking his sensors, he picked up a growing number of blue blips, and leveled out before depressing the rudder, angling his fighter back to his squadron. "Rogue X standing by, all systems green, and I don't think anything fell off after that takeoff. You still back there, Arby?" A hesitant whistle sounded over the comm, and Kyle read the droid's response:
ALL SYSTEMS AND COMPONENTS ACCOUNTED FOR. RUNNING SECONDARY DIAGNOSTIC.
***
08-27-2010, 05:58 PM
Jason
OOC: Gotta apologize for not posting sooner school just started so i'm still getting used to everything. Oh and Jason's call sign can be his last name I suppose I like the sound of Echo.
Jason let out a bundle of courses (with his comlink off of course) when the other rogues took off and made earsplitting noises. Knowing that if he didn't follow what they did they would think they had on up on him. With a flick of a few switches the ship was lifted off the ground and heading out at an 45 degree like the previous. "Well here goes nothing was all" he said to himself before flipping a final switch and causing his engines to splurt out an extra burst of speed.
It shoved him back into his seat and shook the sleep from his eyes. Finally making it to the others he formed up on his fellow sqaudmates wing.
***
08-27-2010, 08:58 PM
Mazen
Wheezer tootled a query that displayed on Mazen's screen. He could've guessed its contents without looking though:
When are we going to go?
Mazen shrugged in his seat. "Depends on when these slow-pokes get moving!"
With that in mind, he flipped the comm back on between himself and Darksands. He cleared his throat, putting the most annoyance into his voice as he could.
"Are we, or are we not, having an exercise here? The clock's ticking, Romon. Where's the grand display of Rogue Squdron might?"
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:08:02 GMT
08-28-2010, 02:28 AM
Laina Reynolds
"Laina Reynolds," said the doctor. "I hear you're looking for a prosthetic for your finger..."
"Not quite sir," she started. "I just wanted to explore my optio-"
"Sure, sure! You'll come around in time," he interrupted jovially. Somehow she knew that this was going to be a bad visit. "We have unpowered digits for those scrapped on cash, open mechanical and synthiflesh coated mechanicals. currently, we're looking into cloning, but that's a whole 'nother branch of the company. We only deal with- "
Laina's comlink shouted a shrill alarm to get her attention: something guarenteed to wake her from the deepest of sleeps. She jumped up and snatched the device from her belt. That alarm was saved for emergency alerts designated by runt, her R7. She looked at the message scrolling across the small readout and cursed. "Frack! Gotta go!" she said, bursting out of the office and sprinting through the lobby, ignoring the shouts of the secretary demanding a co-pay of 10 credits. The young pilot burst into the street and immediately spotted an incoming municipal speeder, coming down to park. She sprinted across.
"Officer!" she shouted as the off duty man stepped out. He whipped his head around and reached for his weapon: a normal reaction for the brutes who enforced the laws. She pulled out her ID card, listing her as a pilot of the New Republic's navy, and threw it to him. "I'm a member of Rogue squadron and we've just been scrambled. I need your vehicle." He squinted at it and shrugged.
"I've got an extra half hour. I'll give you a lift, pilot. Though I don't think your in Ro- HEY!" Laina had jumped into the pilot's seat and punched the started. Since the man's keys were close enough, in his pocket, the vehicle roared to life. Not trusting her to wait, he jumped into the back seat. "Look, you don't have to prove an-UGH!" Laina punched it in reverse, sending him into the front seat. Luckily for him, the containment field between the seats hadn't been activated. Still, he got up only to be thrown back in the seat as she punched it.
The woman flipped the siren and lights on as she roared down the skylane, her hair flying in the jet-stream that rushed over the top of the cruiser as she merged into the empty emergency lane and accelerated. Then the in car radio chirruped. The officer grabbed it. "Cruiser 11-38 what is your status?" came a nasal voice. "We have reports of activated siren, emergency lane usage, and excess of speed limitation! Over!" Laina activated the containment shield to stop the wind from drowning out all attempted conversation and decided to hear what he had to say rather than angering him more.
"I've got a navy pilot playing Rogue claiming scramble orders. OveEEEEEer," he said as she whipped the speeder on it's side and into an alleyway. "I'm inclined to believe her right now..." After a few moments of silence, discounting the roar of the straining engine, another call came through.
"Put her on officer." Laina grabbed the small, black microphone with her left hand, shifting with her right and steering around a floating sign with her knee. The man screamed. Wuss, she thought before realizing the cap on his hot caf had finally dislodged itself and the burning liquid had started to eat away at his inner thigh and surrounding skin.
"That stuff's bad for you ya know," she said as nonchalantly as she could, pressing the plunger on the mic. "Cadet Laina Reynolds: serial number 83156492 under scramble from... Lieutenant Darksands?" she said, just now seeing his rank. That was new. Vader's black bones: that was on air. "Er...over," she said, hoping they didn't care about her odd tone of voice. In the time they replied, she had rocketed down to the gate outside the compound: she didn't want to get arrested for penetrating the no fly zone. She waved her pass over the terminal as the radio chirped up.
"Reynolds we've confirmed your status. Please drive safely."
"A little late on that one," she said to the now silent and red faced man beside her as the gate rose up. "Wilco, over and out." She rocketed into the hanger as the last X-wing roared away from the building and spun the speeder 180. She threw the engines to full and roared to a stop, hearing something crack in the machine beneath her. She shut off the field and jumped over the man in the seat, sprinting towards her whining bird of prey. She jumped onto the nose of the craft and ran up the freshly painted surface, hoping the paint was dry enough the the Drayberian hawk that decorated both sides of the light blue craft would be fine. She had spent too much time on that to loose it.
She jumped over the canopy and landed in her seat, almost twisting her ankle on the helmet that lay there. She jammed it on her head and knee-ed the repulsors up as she fastened the clip. "Thanks for the pre-flight and jumpstart Runt," she told her R7, now painted silver with blue trim to match her now moving forward craft. She dialed the inertial compensator down to 96 and waved to the mechanic. I'll have to get some lessons from her later on, as she saw the officer get out of his now smoking speeder, clamp his ears, and wince towards the mechanic. The young woman felt sorry for the man.
Laina finally allowed herself to relax slightly and she pushed the throttles up, burning away from the atmosphere and cracking mach two a scant second after the first. She still had thirty seconds before the contacts came into range. Her astromech beeped and she checked the readout. "Training run? What do you mean training run?" Another bleep. "Romon?! He is SO working out the paperwork and frack from Republic Security!" Soon enough her ship came close to the formation and she told Runt to send him a private text only message about her disapproval. "And no messing with my meaning," she growled, knowing that the quirky droid "liked" to play a good humored prank.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:08:31 GMT
08-28-2010, 07:34 PM
Romon
Romon was having one of those moments in flight, where you actually took the time to enjoy the flight. He had the X-wing pointed straight sapceward, riding his engines instead of flying through the atmosphere. He watched the sky turn from bight blue, to pale blue, and as it started faiding to black the radio started to cackle with life as his pilots announced they were air born and forming up.. A check of the sensor board showed all 6, no wait, there were seven blue blips merging on his fighter. He looked over both shoulders, that showed him Dack, Jason, and Kyle tucked in on him in a diamond formation already. That left three blips incoming. He knew it was the Co and the guest recruit they had flying with them today. He then switched on his IFF, and saw that it was Laina. She must have gotten back from her personal leave. A smile crossed his face as now he would finally get a chance to fly with her on his wing.
His com gear beeped, telling him he had a message incoming on a secured channel from the boss. "Boss, from where I am sitting we have all the birds in the air, most in formation and still two minuets to spare. Hell, Cadet Reynolds made it and she is not supposed to back from leave yet. For our first scramble as a squadron, I don't think it went half bad."
After he had switched back to the squadron channel, he got a text message from Laina, telling him that he was acting childish and was a terrible example for the rest of the squadron. He laughed as he new her R2 unit liked to start trouble. "Vamp, send one back, I want it to say, "Didn't you get the memo about this being military appreciation week? I am just giving them something to appreciate."
After getting his personal business straight he did one last visual check of the gages and then looked to see that all the fighters had formed up. He trigged the squad wide channel and began talking. "Not to bad boys and girls. This has been a test of the New Republic emergency response system. Had this been an actual emergency you would have been woken up by flashing red lights and very annoying alarms."
He let that sink in for a second as he chuckled, he new some of the pilots were now awake thanks to the adrenaline shot of a full alert takeoff. "Since we are all up dressed up real nice like, I figured I would find us a play date. I was going to see if the Wraiths were up for it but they declined, for one reason or another. So second best, we have a ground of the Academy's finest. These guys are grade A, Academy trained that have finished their training and are now awaiting squadron assignments. They wanted to play with the best the fleet had to offer, so I took them up on the deal. I told them to bring some friends and that we would take it easy on them. They agreed to bring back up, but they wanted to see what a real dog fight is like, so we are gonna fight like we always do, no mercy. Everyones lasers have been dialed down to 25%, that way we won't be tearing any birds up, but you will know when you get hit. They will show on your scopes as Grey flight."
Again, giving just a minuet to let that sink in, he adjusted the squadrons course to port and headed to the engagement zone."For right now Darksun and Curran will be a wing pair, Jason, you and Dack work together. I will put our guest on your wing along with Kyle Boss, that way she can learn from the best." Romon didn't have to say anything to Laina, she knew they would be flying together.
As the 12 red blips of the "bogies" appeared on his sensor screen, Romon went to work. "Lock and load, break by pairs, and give them hell!" He said as he flipped the switch locking his S-foils in attack position. He pulled back on the stick and rolled to the right putting the fighter into a climbing right turn. He then snap rolled left and drooped the nose, bringing his sights back around on the Greys, which were now performing evasive maneuvers. He looked over his right shoulder and saw Laina's X-wing glued right where it should be. "That girl can fly a fighter." He thought to himself. Now it was just a matter of time until the X-wings entered into maximum firing range. He had now doubt that the newbies would lash out with a barrage of laser fire as they closed head to head. Hell that is what he was gonna do. He cycled shields full forward, set lasers to single fire, and waited.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:09:45 GMT
08-29-2010, 09:42 PM
Kyle
"Oh...this should be interesting..." Kyle muttered, and heard an inquisitive twitter from Arby:
SHALL I TRANSMIT THE MOST RECENT COMM TO SQUADRON DESIGNATION: ROGUE?
"No, Arby, not all comments need to be documented for posterity." Kyle added a bit of nuanced personality to his attitude thrusters, his shields intermittently overlapping in the current formation he and the other three pilots were in. He couldn't help but let a smile creep across his features as he heard his wing designation, and keyed the CO's comm channel. "Just like Virtual Endor, eh, Boss?"
Then the red dots appeared, and Kyle's smile disappeared. Twelve? he thought. It gets more interesting by the minute. Nonchalantly, Kyle shifted his S-foils into attack position and, while waiting for his wingmate to pair up, sought visual contact on the bogeys. On open-channel, Kyle said, "I'll try to save some for you guys."
Comm off, Kyle vocalized a few macro commands to Arby, and watched as the R2 unit indicated programming process on his screen. It was much easier to remember mono-syllabic terms for some of his favorite tricks, rather than to waste a precious second or two issuing the full command.
The bogeys were beginning to break, and he saw a black-and-red fighter dancing in and out of their evasive activities. The sounds of reduced laserfire *blatt*ed over his cockpit's aural enhancers, growing steadily as he, at 2/3 speed, continued towards the melee, while allowing the CO time to catch up.
Game on.
***
08-30-2010, 12:24 AM
Arianna
Tink watched everyone leave, most with the same brash take offs as Romon. As she stood up and brushed herself off a vehicle slid to a stop by the hanger and a woman came in in a blur. She furrowed her brows as the woman slid easily up into a fighter and took off with more grace, though jsut as much noise and speed, and joined the others. "Hope she doesn't miss the fun and Romon goes easy on her for being last." She laughed softly then saw the officer getting out of the passenger's side of his vehicle looking like a man who had just taken his teenage daughter on her first ride.
"All of them Rogues like that?" The man chuckled uneasily as he stretched and shutt the door heading for the driver's side as Ari walked towards him.
"No," she laughed back, "Most are worse. Care for something calming to drink before heading back?" She nodded towards the hanger and smiled. The poor guy looked like he had been run over rather than ridden around.
When he declined, they said farewells and Ari headed back to the hanger. Hollering at the few bots who hovered around, she got the hanger cleared up in no time and moved to get to work on a couple broke down fighters in the far corner. There would always be new recruits and some wouldn't have fighters. Till they earned enough to get their own, these half dozen were 'loaners'. She looked at the loaners an sighed. At least 4 were in good shape and battle ready. The last two were causeing problems. One lost inertial dampening fields once they left atmosphere, and the other one had comm troubles past the speed of sound.
Setting to work she let the time fly by till the squadron returned and thought of a logo she could paint on their fighters. Absently she comments to the droid closest to her, "Perhaps stretchers... ya know... the number of times they laid out their enemies." Then laughing she shook her head. "Na... with take off like that, the ones that land on their tookuses (backsides) may be mistakenly counted." She laughed and slid the spano from her pocket and set back to work.
Ari
Tink
Romon's Pest
***
08-31-2010, 11:20 AM
Mazen
Looks like we're ready to go, Mazen thought.
He exited the hangar at a far more leisurely pace than the speed-demons who'd previously vacated for the higher atmosphere. He wasn't doing it to be a jerk exactly; Mazen was just more moderate about how he used his power resources. He thought for the long-haul.
"Copy. S-Foils in attack position, kids. Curran, Vaeryn, let's go play," Mazen said into the comm.
As he spoke, he eyed his controls, ensuring that Wheezer had indeed adjusted the strength of his laser cannons. Mazen offered a half-smile.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:12:07 GMT
08-31-2010, 04:57 PM
Jason
"Oh this should be fun" he said as the red circles appeared on his scanner. Jason charged up his laser cannons and set his shields forwards. Then he began pressing forward to get in better range with the fighters. He waited for his wing mate to join up with him as the enemy fighters scrambled all around.
***
09-01-2010, 11:36 AM
Romon
OOC: I guess there doesn't need to be a specific posting order right now as we are all just forming up and getting ready. So if you have a good post in mind go a head and do it and I will just wait till everyone post. This way we can keep the thread moving. BTW, I am loving how the thread is going so far!
***
09-02-2010, 01:06 PM
Dack
"I'm formin' up on you Echo. Squeaky set shields to 90 in front 10 in back. Don't want to be unprepared if they get behind us." Dack moved his fighter in on Jason's right. "Setting S-foils in attack position." The Grays were coming closer, almost in attack range. 3...2...1! The "enemy" fighter fired plowing right by Dack, straight forward and then turned around. Dack did the same.
This continued for about a minute, then the Gray pilot made the mistake of pulling-up while Dack was still firing at him. Dack's lasers "shredded" the Grays underside, just enough to send the his X-wing out of control for a few seconds.
1 "down"
OOC: Not sure what Dack's call sign'll be so call him Rouge 9 or 10 for now, depending on which Jason is.
***
09-03-2010, 07:06 PM
Romon
OOC Dack, for now will have Jason be Rogue 6 and you 7. That way you two will fly with Lainia and I when we brake into flights. After this exercise, the CO and I will re-evaluate wing men and who goes where. We have a new pilot that will be flying a B-wing.
***
09-03-2010, 07:09 PM
Dack
OOC: Got it! I figured Silat would be flying one.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:14:00 GMT
09-04-2010, 05:52 PM
Kyle
Kyle saw a blue blip coming up rapid on his six, and didn't need his IFF to know it was his CO. With a mischievous streak larger than the chip on his shoulder, he couldn't resist pouring all power into reverse thrusters, and snapping "back" into position on the Commander's wing. With a bleating protest from Arby, Kyle readjusted his fusials, and set about creating the invisible tether to his wingmate until otherwise notified. S-foils flexed, Kyle squeezed his laser cannons' trigger, and saw the trajectory his quad-linked blasts took.
"Arby, set cannons to stutter-fire, and fashion an algorithm to randomize their firing pattern." Arby tweeted an acknowledgement, and Kyle looked through his canopy's side viewport at his CO. Chinning his comm, he said, "Just like Endor, huh, Boss?"
Any reply was cut off by the sound, sight, and smell of low-power laserfire oxidizing against his shields. "Who-a-a!" he yelped, eyes set forward once again, Kyle banked hard to starboard, flattening the right rudder as he did. Bringing his fighter around in a tight loop, he chided himself on committing a sin of arrogance in a live-fire training exercise.
We only screw up once, one way or another...he thought, and leveled out behind his attacker. Pouring a volley of bolts into the Grey's engine embankment - deterring any quick return for another strafing run - Kyle eased himself back onto Darksun's four. His comm clicked as he set his jaw, and for a moment, the Rogues' channel was hijacked with a snort of frustration.
But it only took a moment for Kyle's cooler head to prevail, and the exercise was back on track.
***
09-04-2010, 11:23 PM
Ewan Isaacs
Guest
Originally Posted by Romon Darksands
OOC Dack, for now will have Jason be Rogue 6 and you 7. That way you two will fly with Lainia and I when we brake into flights. After this exercise, the CO and I will re-evaluate wing men and who goes where. We have a new pilot that will be flying a B-wing.
Check your PMs please
***
09-05-2010, 12:44 AM
Romon
OCC: I did and we have it worked out
***
09-05-2010, 04:43 PM
Laina
"Didn't you get the memo about this being military appreciation week? I am just giving them something to appreciate."
"I'm sure the kind officer appreciates a burnt crotch," she said to herself sarcastically, unsure if Runt would send it or not. She really hoped not, it was coming up on time to work. Romon soon called out instructions over his squad channel and, when the enemy fighters grew from being invisible to being a speck in the sky, kicked off. Laina matched his moves in her E-wing, but in the opposite direction, breaking left and then rolling right, hoping to confuse the bogeys.
She slipped back behind her XO and shunted power from her engines to her shields, shifting the majority of the shield to the front of her craft. She linked up the bottom two laser cannons to fire simultaneously and gave control of the third to Runt. He'd get those once in a lifetime shots down pat. The flights closed and Laina, seeing Romon's decision, started firing a moment before she should've, causing her and Romon's shots to appear almost at the same time as they tore towards the oncoming fighters. Laina's first few bursts missed cleanly, but the next two struck home: playing across the enemy fighter's shields. Laina split right as it tore in between the two Rogues and Laina started her arc, dialing up her compensator for just a moment before cursing herself silently. She wished she had used the bathroom.
That was when kill calls started to come in over the comm suite. Laina brought herself around and redistributed her shields - now at a simulated 87% - returning the borrowed power to her engines and surging ahead. She pulled back on the throttle and fell in behind Romon again. He seemed to be doing just as well as she was: he was still here.
***
09-05-2010, 07:29 PM
Mazen
No response from Vaeryn, but Mazen wasn't going to immediately worry about that. Some were greener than others and didn't know how to manage the comm and fly simultaneously; Mazen didn't even mean that in a mean way. It was just the... truth.
"Nice one, Curran," he said with a chuckle.
While he could've been tearing up the sky too, for the time being, Mazen was more in favor of looking at the big picture while he could. Sure, the cams would pick up everything and he and Romon would study them until their eyes got gritty. But, for now, nothing could replace watching things unfold live.
Wheezer squealed in a way that needed no translation, which led Darksun to look back at his personal situation closer. He sighed and rolled hard to port.
"C'mon, Curran. Let's go vape someone else."
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:15:15 GMT
09-06-2010, 12:49 AM
Kyle
Kyle double-clicked his comm, acknowledging his CO's orders. Gaining a new respect for hernias, he followed the Commander's lead, and heard a sharp trill from Arby as he rolled hard. "Whoop!" he yelped, ignoring the constant streaming of protests flowing across his screen. Apparently, droids had some knowledge - or fear - of atmospheric hot-shotting, and the astromech was expressing his immediate displeasure with the possibility of a long trip to the surface. "Relax, Arby. At least you'd have enough time to backup your files to the NRI server." The electronic equivalent of a raspberry blurted through his cockpit, and Kyle couldn't hold back the laugh.
Glancing down at his target display, he saw a shield-trio of bogeys coming in. "Boss, three incoming, vector one-zero-three-seven." Naturally, right up my starboard engine nacelles. Oh, well, round two, here we go. Kyle eyed the blips as they grew near, and went through his laundry list of measured responses - as well as a few un-measured ones - narrowing it down to a few select options, relative to the Greys' behavior on approach.
***
09-06-2010, 02:27 PM
Romon
Romon watched as Laina fired, but held his own, as one of the Greys shot between the wing pair he stood his fighter up on its port S-foils as he saw Laina brake off into a snap roll. As quick as she was gone, she was right back on his wing and the Grey that had blown by them was headed off to mix it up with another set of Rogues.
A quick check of the gages showed a pair of Greys coming up on thiers 5 o'clock position. A quick glance to the side showed Laina still hanging in perfect formation. A smile played across his face as he snap rolled to the right and slammed the stick back into his chest. Moves like this were hard on airframes and pilots in atmosphere, but in the vacuum of space you could make a star fighter do things that seemed to defy the laws of physics.
As soon as his nose came around on the bogeys, his hud turned green and he let loose with a series of linked laser fire that tracked true. Crimson laser energy started eating away at the front shields of the lead X wing. The green pilot froze and instead of pulling up to get out of Romon's line of fire he did nothing. Romon's laser ate through his shields and as they gave way the dialed down laser bolts started playing up the nose of the Grey, some hitting the cockpit directly. The red blip representing his target disappeared off the radar scope, signaling a kill.
Romon almost felt bad, that had been too easy. "Lain, the wingman is yours." Romon called out as he pulled back on the sick slightly, cut his throttles and rolled up and over Laina's E-wing, taking up high guard position on her starboard rear flank. She would get the bandit, it was his job now to make sure no one got her.
***
09-07-2010, 11:21 AM
Mazen
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL!
Mazen yelped, shouted, and swore, wrenching his helmet off against protocol. He was careful to control his loop so he didn't descend too much, glaring at the helmet in his lap. Blinking back tears of pain as his ear drums felt like they'd been popped and wounded all over again, Mazen pushed his X-Wing out of the combat zone.
"Wheezer, message Romon and Kyle to let them know I'm out. Something's wrong with my helmet or the comm unit," Mazen said.
While he'd intended to sound strong despite the pain in his ears and head, he realized he almost sounded like he was whimpering. It was that severe. Grateful the astromech could handle that, he knew that Kyle could be reassigned with Romon's quick thinking. Meanwhile, he'd head back to the hangar...
****
Rogue Leader's X-Wing landed back in its customary spot after Wheezer handled comm. traffic with the other Rogues about the emergency as well as with flight control to let them know he was inbound early.
Canopy popped open, Mazen dashed the tears in his eyes and sat in the cockpit without moving for several seconds. He wasn't sure if his balance would be affected like it had been after the initial accident that had damaged his hearing. Mazen didn't want to find out by falling down the ladder that had been rushed to him.
From behind the cockpit, Wheezer started blatting instructions on his pilot's behalf to anyone who could translate the R2 unit's language. Mazen needed medical assistance stat, as well as someone needed to explore why the squeal happened.
***
09-10-2010, 12:23 AM
Kyle
There was a strange rustling noise inside his helmet, and Kyle's concentration broke for a nanosecond, trying to determine the source. Glancing over at his wingman, he saw that, in fact, it was the CO who was the source. Boggling at the breach of protocol, Kyle snapped his eyes back forward, changing tactics on the fly. It was hard giving up the sure kill to provide cover fire. But in a combat situation, how many you take out is only as important as how many you bring back.
The CO broke off from engagement, and Kyle was feeling the creeping brush of sim-death approaching rapidly. Fortunately, he now had roughly 270 degrees of navigable trajectories with which to work, and as he heard the first blats of laserfire on his rear shields, began to ease to starboard. Then, abruptly cutting his engines to 1/3, Kyle banked hard to port, going end-over-end as he took a few more shots on his back to completely throw their aim off. Coming out of the roll and trying to remind himself that blue was up and green was down, he let the full-speed bogeys tear past, and then kicked up his speed to match theirs.
Naturally, the centermost of the trio remained on an even flight path, its two wingmen angling outward in the setup of a pincer move. Still blinking away the spots, Kyle sighed. "Come on, guys...it's like your astros are transmitting your coordinates to me!"
Dappling his target's shields with laser fire until the system indicated a "kill", Kyle expanded his peripherals, years of time dealing with vectors, angles, and velocities setting a mental timer. Kyle thumbed the landing gear down, drawing a confused chirp from the droid behind him. "Arby, on Chev, fire the landing repulsors, okay?" An affirmative scrolled across his screen, and Kyle waited, the timer ticking away in his head.
"...Chev!" His stomach relocated to his heels, and Kyle went vertical, hearing the metal of his fighter screech and pop in protest to the sudden denial of gravity. The two remaining Greys assigned to him ricocheted off of each others' shields, and were sent on vectors assigned by static-shocked droids, only adding to the tumbling physical reaction their fighters were experiencing.
"Whoo-" Kyle had to choke back the rest of his celebratory cry, his stomach's displeasure at the sudden uprooting rising in the back of his throat. The other two Greys were out of the fight temporarily, but were not considered confirmed kills.
It was then that the CO's droid transmitted a direct message to him. "Arby, transmit an acknowledgment of message to Wheezer, and prepare for a hailing comm from Lieutenant Darksands." COs don't ditch a mission - training or not - unless something's wrong...he thought, not liking any of the outcomes of that line of reasoning. Unable to shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss, Kyle checked his targeting computer for the nearest cluster of blue blips, and vectored off in their direction.
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Post by Admin on Feb 12, 2015 1:17:01 GMT
09-14-2010, 12:42 AM
Romon
SOMETHING IS WRONG! The thought shot through Romons head like a laser bolt. Years of combat experience kicked in a quick glance out the cockpit showed the Laina was closing on the last of their targets and that she had no immediate danger. I quick head snap back showed that his tail was clear. Vamp was very good at keeping an eye on their six, but he couldn't catch them all. His eyes tell to his targeting display. The ratio of red to blue blips was becoming more in their favor, but they were still out gunned. He noticed something interesting though. It looked like a group of friendless and bogies were headed planet side.
Looking up again and seeing Laina finishing off her target he called out. "6, on me." He stood his fighter on its port s-foil and brought his nose around to get a better view of the situation unfolding. Looking between the targeting display to see who was who and out of the canopy, Romon begin to piece the scene together. Darksands was screaming for the deck. He R2 was squawking a panic code, and then transmitted something about a static pop, an injury, and an emergency landing. His bird wasn't on fire and he seemed to be in control, so for the moment his attention was drawn else ware.
He saw Kyle bag one of the Greys, then through a very impressive display of flying that earned him MUCH respect from the Rogues XO, he eluded 2 other Greys. As Kyle regained forward momentum and headed towards Romon and Laina, Romon firewalled his throttles and brought his guns to bare on one of the Greys that had regained control and was truing to engage Romon's squadron mate. He clicked his lasers over to single fire and tightened his finger on the trigger. A steady stream of red light sprayed out at the academy pilot.
Due to the long range and the sloppy aiming, Romon doubted if he had even nicked the other pilots shields, but the green pilot had turned away and grabbed air, trying like hell to get out of the line of fire. Who could blame him, an X-wing (a black and red bird of prey at that) coming staring at you spitting laser fire is pretty intimidating.
"Kyle, we copy you inbound, welcome to two flight. Any idea on what happened to the Boss?" He kept his tone light and even, not portraying any of the adrenaline pumping through his body. Even though this was training, it was still real and it had gotten bad. The CO had to make an emergency ditch. It appeared he was goundside in one piece, but something had gone very wrong. The fight was still at hand and as Kyle joined on Romon's left wing and Laina on his right, Romon headed the flight back into the furball that the training exercise had become.
***
09-15-2010, 01:04 AM
Kyle
When the L-T's red lancets came his direction, Kyle's eyes boggled, and a barrel-rolling dive took him out of the trajectory. His recovering pursuer, however, was not so lucky, and took a few nicks on his shields before disengaging. Re-ingesting his spleen after the dive, Kyle formed up on his XO's port foils.
"I-I dunno," he said, allowing his thoughts to loosen up momentarily, shaking out the broken bits to clear some space. It was all-too familiar...his wingman dropping out of the sky all of a sudden, and Kyle following shortly thereafter. The treeline overtaking the horizon, coming up to meet him, introduce him to its verdant family...
"I...uh, I think he had some sort of malfunction." Had to be...he's touched down, not crashed, and you turned a SNAFU into a success...it's not the same. He'll be back. You didn't just lose another...
Kyle visibly shook his head, jostling the lay of his crash helmet, his starboard periphery suddenly decreased by a few centimeters. Readjusting the view via his chinstrap, Kyle commed the XO. "Orders, L.T.?" Please just say mop-up duty...I don't want to be up here anymore. Not right now. It was the first time since Barkhesh Kyle had hated being in a cockpit. And this time, there wasn't even the fear of impending incineration to guide his thoughts along that line.
***
09-19-2010, 01:43 PM
Romon
Romon thought for a moment as he brought the flight of three outside of the fur ball. He was concerned about Darksun and he did not want one incident to cause another if pilots were not giving the fight 100% of their attention. He switched his comm unit over to the channel for all friendlies in the area. "This is Lt. Romon Darksands, XO of Rogues squadron and acting CO of this exercise. I am gonna go a head and call a cease fire and return to base. One of my pilots had an in flight emergency. He is on the ground and in one piece, but not knowing what happened and in the interest of safety we will call this exercise a draw. There are birds in the air on both sides. Thanks for the dance Greys, I look forward to serving with you in the fleet."
Romon set his course planet side. He brought his bird in on a leisurely approach angle. Cutting the throttles and letting the increasing gravity of the planet pull his bird plentside. A quick check over his shoulders showed the Rogues formed up on him. They would come in nice and quite, their take off from earlier probably still resounding in some people ears.
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