Progflaw99
Well-Known Member
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUrSQNSN6_c
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Faction: First Order
Fleet Command: [member="Natasi Fortan"]
Allies:
[Fleets]
[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="William Kerkov"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[Starfighters]
[member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"]
Enemies:
Rogue Sith Fighter Craft
[member="Omega"]
[member="Omega"]
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Nils had seen to it personally that each of his squadrons fighters was in tip top shape, going so far as to inspect their maintenance records. It was one of his flaws if you could call it that, he'd always said the devil's in the details. Knowing there was combat ahead had pushed him into overdrive, making sure he did everything he could to leave the outcome of the coming battle to the gods of war rather than in the hands of lazy mechanics, faulty equipment, or outdated parts. It had taken him every waking moment of his free time but now, with the heat on, he was glad he had done it. Now as they headed towards the enemy front he could see the excessive volume of fire both incoming and outgoing. This was one bad fur ball if he ever saw one. Flashes never seemed to stop, the bright lights and lasers streaking across his visible line of sight. The constant hum of the turbo-laser batteries firing around would have filled his ears had he not been more focused on the reports coming in. All lead craft, intercept course 90.3.20 on galactic plane. Harassment & Interdiction fire on retreating destroyers. Seek fast movers.
Bravo Squadron had been performing a close run of the dorsal hull plating of The Concordia when the command came through, Charlie Squadron in tow. Their leashes had been released by command and they were at the disposal of the Squadron Leads. Nils took a deep breath. Here it was, the edge of the precipice and now? Now they were in the free fall that was the moment before first contact. :: Bravo Squadron on me, you heard the man. ::
Gripping the controls tightly Nils adjusted his heading. "Nine Zero point Three point Two Zero. Ada, get me a battle grid." The young pilot addressed the BB-10 droid sharing a fighter with him. The TIE/sf's had given up the gunner's position to a droid, enabling a limited number of hyperspace jump locations as well as aid in managing the ship's power and targeting systems, Nils' he had affectionately named Ada. An alarm chimed as they streaked towards their objective, the Star Destroyer Apocalypse. Currently his ship's systems were balanced meaning an equal amount of power allocated towards the shields, weapons, and other systems. Despite that, the TIE's were nimble, covering much of the space between their start point and their objective. Glancing down at his readouts Nils saw a flurry of blips pop up on his short range sensors. As if to cement what he was seeing on his sensors he heard another chime from his systems. They'd been painted, something out there had pinged them and was now starting to get a lock. Quickly he keyed up a channel to the other squadrons in the 100th. :: Bravo Leader, Bogeys incoming. Weapons Free but keep those firing solutions clear, I don't want any friendly fire. Good Hunting. ::
With an audible click he disengaged the wing wide transmission. He had words, so many words he wanted to express to his fellow flyers but he knew more would just clutter the comms. A wave of clarity washed over him, calm and reassuring. It had seemingly come out of nowhere but he knew it had nothing to do with his own ability to focus on the mission, he wondered if the others felt it too. Weapons were free yet no one fired. It was as if they were all linked, waiting patiently for the same range before opening fire. As if suspended by strings the fighters, both Sith and First Order streaked towards each other like puppets, had Nils seen it from afar he might have wondered if they were all just puppets in some god's giant game. As it was however, he was instead busy locking onto the lead craft at the head of the enemy formation. As the two squadrons of fighters crossed an invisible line they all began firing at once, the high pitched whine of TIE engines merging with the rapid discharge of laser cannons. As if rehearsed each fighter fired a rapid burst at the enemy before peeling off, some upwards and some downwards as they came about trying to get a bead on their targets. Nils had fired an extra long burst, peeling off at the last possible moment. Had he remained on course he would have collided with the enemy's debris, even so, his ship was peppered with shrapnel as he felt the explosion of the enemy craft. He let loose a low growl as he performed a 'Split S' maneuver and slid in behind another enemy fighter. Alarms sounded but the less important ones, or at least the ones that didn't _really_ need to be addressed were muted by Ada, if something truly required Nils' undivided attention aside from piloting and shooting the BB unit would notify him.
Hoping his wingman, [member="Collin Calhoun"] was still on him as was customary, he keyed up on the private channel between the two.
:: Bravo 2, I've got this one padlocked, break off and engage at will! ::
The excitement in his voice was hard to mask. Here in the thick of it Nils truly felt alive, not just breathing and going through the day to day but utterly and completely alive. A grin hidden behind the mask of his helmet the ace let loose a feral howl as he depressed the dual triggers on his control sticks, releasing a hail of blaster fire directly into the rear of the fighter in his sights. He watched, enthralled as the blasters tore through the shielding and into the hull, one engine erupting and sending the craft spiraling out of control. Nils pulled hard back on the sticks as he once more began searching for a target. As he brought his craft to bear, a loud squeal came from Ada, a simultaneous alarm blaring in the pilot's ear followed by an automated voice.
Enemy Missile Lock Detected
The alarm sent a cold chill down the pilot's spine, his veins icing over. It was one of the last things many a pilot heard before they were either blown into oblivion or their ship was rendered inoperable, forcing the pilot to eject. Neither of those were exactly something a pilot wanted. Some even preferred the former as exposure and the sheer vulnerability of being outside of your cockpit could be more painful than a quick death in an immediate explosion. Slamming the controls to his right he pushed in, diving and cutting out to the right. If he was quick enough he just might be able to break the lock, giving him enough time to locate the fighter on his tail. Frantically he checked his targeting computer, unable to get a bead on the fighter.. and there it was. It came screeching a mere meter past his viewport. If he'd been made of lesser stuff, Nils might have needed a new flightsuit but as it was, Nils liked things nice and close. Quickly disengaging his engines, spinning the craft around, and firing off his engines at full power he was able to streak forward towards the fighter that had almost had him dead to rights.
He tracked the fighter, matching every turn and maneuver. Like two birds fighting after a worm the two spun, climbed, dove, and turned, the Sith pilot frantically trying to shake the TIE/sf. It was no use, Nils was right in the sweet spot, flying so close he could have almost reached out and touched the ship in front of him. The Sith had slowed drastically in an attempt to make Nils overshoot him but he'd been too quick for that old trick to work. Instead Nils was still on him, toying with him with a stray blaster bolt or two before finally committing and unleashing a torrent of blaster fire into the cockpit of the Sith fighter. The Sith had pulled up, trying to get out of the TIE's firing arc but had failed, the nimble TIE coming up and shattering the enemy cockpit with a pair of solid hits.
"Take that!" He exclaimed.
Once more free of the melee for a moment he glanced at his controls and the squadron readouts. Soon enough it would update, letting him know how many of his squadron he'd lost. No time for that now, he thought to himself. Another chime sounded, the voice somewhat less chilling. Enemy Missile Lock Detected
He reached down to his controls, flipping a switch on one of his panels. With a whir of energy the ventral turret came to life, the targeting computer humming as it began searching for the culprit. Pulling back on the controls and flipping a 180 he shot forward, lasers still flashing as the combat around him took place. He felt the energy drain slightly as the ventral cannon fired, a short staccato burst loosing from its barrels. Hopefully that would dissuade the fighter from holding the lock. As if to crush any hope he'd had, the alarm increased in intensity, they were close now. He keyed up as he tried his best to keep the fighter from feeling comfortable enough to fire. :: Bravo Two, I could use some help! ::
Summary of Action
Bravo Squadron (TIE/sf) (Lead by Nils Brenner) Status: 16/16
Location: Hex 10.19 to 5.17
Action: Engaging Sith Fighters en route to Sith SD "Apocalypse"
Location: Hex 10.19 to 5.17
Action: Engaging Sith Fighters en route to Sith SD "Apocalypse"
