Traumatized Carrier-Loving Mess
{Location: ANV Pegasus}
{3rd Expeditionary Squadron - Commodore Kathause in Command}
{Objective 2 - Providing back-up for Alliance strike teams}
{Panic Level: YES}
{Direct Relevancy: Marlon Sularen , Kathryn Foster , The Mongrel , And errm...someone}
{3rd Expeditionary Squadron - Commodore Kathause in Command}
{Objective 2 - Providing back-up for Alliance strike teams}
{Panic Level: YES}
{Direct Relevancy: Marlon Sularen , Kathryn Foster , The Mongrel , And errm...someone}
{ANV Pegasus - Situation Room - Half an Hour Till Attack}
"-earlier Ferret sweeps revealed nothing in the way of defenses at first. But when we were in effective range of gravitic scanning, we picked up the mass signatures of a massive cloaked vessel.. Approximately 2.5 kilometers in length. Pertaining to any further information, we're still in the dark." She felt the air in the room take a sharp dive into worry while she began pinpointing another spot on the holographic display, "Huntress and Dreamer will jump in here...bordering off of the enemy's predicted turbolaser range, and fire off several salvos of ion missiles, targeted for the problematic vessel-- switch to dumb-fire once a course is set. We don't need precise targeting."
"As soon as possible, both ships are to engage hyperdrives and rendezvous with the rest of the squadron. But, in case of enemy interdiction, We'll hopefully have the advantage of speed on our side."
"Simultaneously," Her aide spoke, "The rest of the fleet will jump in around here. Eight kilometers from the refinery, and well out of weapons range. Fighters are to launch immediately, and stand by to approach the target, but such plans may be complicated depending on enemy response."
"If we do have that opportunity, Shiver, Searchlight, and Regal squadrons, alongside our other fleet-wide X-wing squadrons will close in and split up. Colonel Foster, I'm entrusting command of both groups to you. Keep a safe distance, we have close to no clue as to the strength of the Brotherhood's stationed air wing. But, if all goes well, their battlecruiser should decloak, and we'll be able to get an idea as to their overall capabilities."
"Remember, you have no reason to stay in their weapons range, Alliance strike teams have already been dispatched to infiltrate the refinery themselves. So don't take any unnecessary risks, and don't try to be a hero."
Liedran let the final sentence settle in as she glanced around the situation room, and at the gathered personnel. Two seconds later, she took a dignified deep breath, and put on her best reassuring smile.
"I'll be with you every step of the way, remember that." The commodore pushed herself from the table's edge, and came to a collected stand, "Good hunting to you all."
{Pegasus - C.I.C - Five Minutes Before Till Attack}
It wasn't too late to turn back.
The final preparations-- weapons checks, fighter checks, more-- came to a close. And with a single order, Liedran could send the entire 3rd Expeditionary Squadron plummeting toward the event horizon of a more or less indescribable threat. They had no other choice, she had told herself as soon as she finished the first mission briefings. All personnel under her command had signed up for, and knowingly accepted the dangers of the occupation, she had reminded herself soon afterwards. But neither statement seemed to satisfy her growing anxiety.
Nothing ever did.
Five minutes before then, Ferret patrols had confirmed the infiltration of the Brotherhood-held refinery by Allied strike teams, though failed to shed light on the problematic cloaked vessels-- or much else--, meaning that they would be entering the battlefield nearly blind to whatever else the enemy had in store. Planning would only help so much, and their situation briefings would likely be rendered near-irrelevant with enough Brotherhood resistance.
Liedran's eyes came to a close, and she took in what would likely be her last peaceful breath before the coming siege. Gently, and equally as collected, she provided a nod to her bridge crew.
And with a sharp flash of motion, the squadron disappeared into hyperspace.
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