Our's to Do or Die So make it Count

ShadowWalker

The Wierdo over there
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Destro pulled the Wolf Fang out of hyperspace, and looked out to the station with a surprised look on his face. Alarm klaxons sounded throughout the cockpit as he looked onto the sight before him. Shit. Before him were three, not one, not two, but three Interceptor IV frigates. He cursed loudly as Phiro and John ran forward to see what was up. They were there only a second as they scrambled to the guns. Then his master alarm spiked as he was targeted. Destro yelled over the comms.

"GO EVASIVE NOW, GO GO GO. THOMAS, COVER US WE NEED TO-"

A large explosion cut him off as a pirate fighter craft bounced off of his shields, thank the force he'd upgraded them, and slammed into a piece of debris.

"ALL FRIEGHTERS, GET YOUR CARGO IN THAT HANGAR NOW!"

The Fang went evasive as he spun, barrel rolling to try shake a couple fighters that had tried to engage him. They were too close. He knew they had an Imperial Star Destroyer backing them up, but against three frigates, and those he knew the in's and out's of. Those concussion missile launchers would ignore that destroyer's shields, and probably tear it to pieces. An X-Wing banked hard right in front of him, two fighters on it's tail. Phiro's turret twisted around, the cannons already spraying laser fire everywhere. Where the hell did all this hardware come from? Surely that many people hadn't been brought here in six years? What was on the inside waiting for them? This already was going to hell. Thomas's X-Wing pulled up behind Destro, and fired, destroying his tails as he spoke on the comms.

"Destro, there's too many of them, we need to pull back and get support!" His voice sounded with something he'd never heard from Thomas. Fear. Were they really in over their heads this time? They were about to find out. Destro spoke back, anger clearly showing through. It had to end now.

"To hell with that, we need to end this. It's now or never Thom,"

Destro banked the freighter on a hard right, trying to use the junk for cover. The Hangar was in sight, but he still needed to cover for everyone else to get inside. Making a sharp turn, he rocketed across the station, and noted that the defenses that were offline six years ago, were now online. His readings show'd full two full fledged Turbo Laser Batteries, and several smaller Laser Cannon batteries. What all had changed in six years?
 

Sisk_Renelo

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With a groan of metal, the Mandalorian Gunship dropped into realspace, far enough back that Sisk would take in the tactical situation and issue orders before they dropped into the crossfire. His screen lit up with contacts, almost all of them red. The station was lit up with power reports, showing him that the reports he had been given had been completely wrong. Enemy fleet strength, station defenses, gun positioning was all wrong. Someone had messed up, and as soon as Sisk figured out who, his hands would crush their neck. Their mistake was going to cost Mandalorian lives, and that was something Sisk would hold a grudge about.

"Shield's at full strength! All guns full power! Attack pattern Renelo Aurek Solus!" His hands danced across the controls, and his eyes darted to the blueprints. With a sharp jab, his finger stabbed down, and a hangar highlighted on the screen. "Set an endpoint for hangar 13, 187 mark 234!" His screen was alight with confirmations, and his sense of gravity shifted slightly as Caleb dialed down the gravitic compensator to .5, giving him a better sense of the gunship's position in space as he sent in into a tight spiral, along one of the prepared attack vectors that every Renelo pilot knew. The warriors still gathered in the command center were jostled slightly, but none of them lost their footing or seats, and the steady thumps of the now exposed guns was a constant thrum throughout the ship, pairing nicely with the high pitched whine of the engines as they pushed the ship at an ever increasing velocity through the complicated field.

The shield readings were flickering as the gunship took fire, and Sisk was engaged in a battle to keep them functioning while balancing power to the rest of the ship's systems, diverting power from system to system as the needs demanded. While the station grew ever closer, a glowing red mass on the edge of the sensors, seemingly ready to swallow the small attack force. //Where the hell are the Imps?//

//No idea. Nothing on sensors or comms.// Sisk shook his head. Of course the Imps couldn't be trusted. But if he had to do this with nothing but him and his crew, he would. He would not allow a Force Scion to ravage the galaxy. //About to pass their firing arcs. Smooth sailing in 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.// And just like that, the ship smoothed out, and the gunship cruised along the surface of the station, growing ever closer to their destination, doing everything it could to stay below the turbolaser towers.

//Target's coming up, hold on! This is not going to be soft!// Caleb was not lying, and Sisk's stomach dropped low in his gut as the gunship went into a sharp loop, Caleb bleeding off a large portion of their momentum by using the station's own gravitational field against them, and the Mandalorian-built vessel slipped through the field that held the atmosphere in place, and Caleb dropped the ship onto the skids that were still expanding from the bottom, and the gunship bounced several times before grinding to a halt on the floor of the bay.

Sisk pushed himself up from where he had been thrown, and called for injuries or casualties. Groans met his calls, but not a single warrior said they couldn't go or reported the loss of a brother. It was a grim satisfaction, because Sisk was feeling something he hadn't felt since Coruscant, when Andraste had descended. His head was starting to hurt, that low dull pounding in the back of his brain, although it was a much lower intensity than last time. With a shake of his head, he pushed it away."Delmon, gather your team, Caleb, organize the defense. Ramp drops in thirty seconds. Lets make sure we bring everyone home."
 
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